“Is there a reason you’re giving me this metaphor?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of?”

She smiled secretively. “Well, Dr. Coltrain is sending me to see a specialist.”

He lost color. “What sort of specialist?”

“A woman who does obstetrics.”

All at once, he got it. “Dead rabbit, metaphor, obstetrician... You’re pregnant!” he exclaimed.

She grinned. “Yes!”

He picked her up and kissed her and kissed her, walking around the room, in an absolute fever of joy.

Tad came in the door from outside, where he’d been helping the foreman feed the bottle calves. He stopped and just stared at them.

They stopped and stared back.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Celebrating,” Colter said.

“Celebrating,” Clancey added.

“Celebrating what?”

“The coming occupation of our spare bedroom,” Clancey told him mischievously.

“We’re taking in renters?” Tad, obviously, didn’t get it.

“We’re putting in a bassinet and diapers...”

“We’re going to have a baby?” Tad burst out, radiant. “A real baby? Oh my gosh! That’s just great! I won’t be an only child anymore!”

He hugged Colter, who still had Clancey up in his arms, and they all laughed.

The following Christmas, besides the colorfully wrapped presents under the big tree, there was another present that capped the spirit of celebration and joy. Clancey and Colter brought home the newest member of their household. Their son, Jacob Dalton Colter Banks. He was, Clancey told her delighted husband, the nicest Christmas present she’d ever had in her life. Smiling, he bent and kissed her so sweetly that she felt tears brighten her eyes. She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. And she smiled back.

Don’t miss Diana Palmer’s next HQN: Wyoming Heart, available October 2019!

Lone Texas Ranger John Ruiz finds unexpected passion with Nurse Sunny Wesley, but will a looming threat destroy their chance at happiness?

Read on for a sneak preview of Unbridled, part of the Long, Tall Texans series from New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer.

Unbridled

by Diana Palmer

It was two weeks until Christmas. Suna Wesley, whom her coworkers called Sunny, was standing by herself at the edge of the makeshift dance floor in the boardroom at the San Antonio Hal Marshall Memorial Children’s Hospital, watching as her colleagues in the hospital laughed and performed to the music on the loudspeakers. A disc jockey from a local radio station, related to one of the nurses, had been persuaded to provide commentary. There was plenty of punch and refreshments. Doctors and nurses, orderlies and dieticians mingled around the buffet table. It was a holiday-themed party, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. One of the favorite staff doctors had taken a job back east, so it was mostly a going-away party.