Her Rebel Cowboy (Previously Released as The Touch of Sage)

Western Historical Romance

Click to Read Excerpt

Back Cover Teaser:

Following the death of her parents, Sage Willows had lovingly nurtured her younger sisters through childhood.  She loved her sisters.  She’d seen each one married, and was glad to see them settled and happy. Furthermore, she held no resentment at never having found a good man of her own to settle down with.  Yet, regret is different than resentment—and far more haunting.

Still, Sage found as much joy as was allowed a lonely young woman—in being proprietress of Willows’ Boardinghouse, and in the companionship of the four beloved widow-women boarding there.  Until, that is, the devilishly handsome Rebel Lee Mitchell appeared.  It seemed Reb Mitchel instantly and forever vanquished Sage’s feigned contentment.

Dark, mysterious and secretly wounded, Reb Mitchell utterly captured Sage’s lonely heart.  Nevertheless, to Sage Williows, the powerfully attractive cowboy—admired and coveted by every female in his path—seemed entirely unobtainable.  How could a weathered, boardinghouse-proprietress resigned to spinsterhood, ever hope to hold the attention of such a man?  And knowing she couldn’t—would Sage Willows simply sink deeper into the bleak loneliness she’d secreted for so long?

Book Excerpt:

Sage’s hands trembled as she held her cards.  One card—that’s all she needed.  Just one more three to finish her set and she would win!  Reb had won the first hand they’d played—Sage the second.  Now Sage was holding everything she needed to beat him—save one silly three.

...Sage sat, mouth gaping open in astonishment.  She had lost!  She had actually lost!  

Reb looked at her…“Well, Sage,” he began, “I’ll drop in Saturday and collect my winnin’s.”

“N-now, Reb,” Sage stammered, a nervous smile and pleading expression washing over her face.  “Why…why don’t I just fix you up a nice supper on Saturday…some of my special sage gravy…”

“Oh, I like the flavor of sage, all right,” Reb interrupted, smiling at her as he smoothed his mustache with the side of an index finger…“Yes, ma’am!  I do love to savor the taste of sage!  And I plan on gettin’ my fill of it Saturday night…but supper won’t be necessary, Sage.”

Sage felt her cheeks run vermilion as the other ladies in the room giggled… 

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