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Can’t Hurry Love

A Rocky Valley Romance

Nadine Millard

Copyright © 2021 Nadine Millard

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

CAN’T HURRY LOVE

Copyright © 2021 NADINE MILLARD

ISBN-13: 978-1-946061-84-3

Cover Design by Jena Brignola

Editing by Paula Buckendorf

Formatting by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

Table of Contents

Front Matter

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Thanks for reading!

Also By Nadine Millard

To my wonderful readers.

What a couple of years we’re living through!

Thanks for sticking with me

This one’s for you.

Prologue

Hi, Beth,

It was great to meet you the other day. I’m going to be swamped with work for the next couple of months, but maybe I can give you a call the next time I’m in town?

Best,

Roger

Beth Carroway sighed and threw her phone on the padded seat beside her. “Another one bites the dust,” she muttered to herself. She wasn’t even disappointed, really. She’d known after about ten minutes that Roger wasn’t the one for her. There had been no spark. No fizzle.

And he’d eaten his hamburger with a knife and fork. A clear sign that he was a psychopath as far as she was concerned.

“Hey, Beth. You want anything else?”

Beth glanced up at her waitress and smiled, pushing a blond curl out of her face. “No, thanks Tara,” she said. “I’ll be heading out soon.”

“Hot date?” The pretty redhead smiled.

“In Rocky Valley?” Beth laughed. “Hardly. No, the boys have a big day ahead of them at the ranch tomorrow, so I’ll be cooking and baking up a storm so they don’t starve to death.”

“You’re a good sister.” Tara winked before heading in the direction of someone who’d called for coffee.

“Aren’t I just?” Beth whispered, dropping her chin into her hand.

The truth was that she felt pretty useless around the ranch. Ever since her mom died, Beth had taken over the cooking. She was a good cook, but it didn’t exactly excite her. She didn’t love it the way her mom had.

Because she’d trained her daughter in the traditional ways of a rancher woman, Fran Carroway’s death hadn’t caused a big change to the running of the ranch. But there’d been a seismic shift in their family.

As the youngest and the only girl, Beth and Fran had been as close as it was possible for a mother and daughter to be. In many ways, Fran had been Beth’s best friend.

But then, she’d gotten sick.

Beth had been fifteen when she died, and it hadn’t felt like she’d even begun to recover from that before her dad suffered a heart attack and joined his wife, even though it had been ten years later. A small consolation around Dad’s death was that he’d be with his beloved again. The only thing Tom Carroway had loved more than the ranch was his wife.

His kids came up even with the sprawling property that had been in the Carroway family for generations.

Taking over the cooking had come naturally to Beth when Fran had passed. And she didn’t mind. Not really. But it bored her stiff. The only joy she found in the kitchen was when she was baking. That she was passionate about.

When she was younger, she’d dreamed of going to culinary school to train as a pastry chef. But when her mom had gotten sick that dream had gone by the wayside. Beth hadn’t minded, of course. She did her duty to her family, and she did it without complaint.

But — it was hard. Being on the ranch. Being the only girl. Being stuck in a town as small as Rocky Valley and never meeting anyone new or exciting…

Beth sighed again.

Why had she let Roger’s brush-off send her into a funk? Why was she sitting in the middle of a diner feeling lonely and sorry for herself? Her life wasn’t so bad. It was actually pretty good, really.

But she wanted a boyfriend. There. She admitted it. She should want to be a strong, independent woman who “don’t need no man.” But she couldn’t help it.

It was coming into the spring. She’d spent fall and Christmas single. Fall was the time for a boyfriend. Someone to go pumpkin picking with. Someone to drink apple cider with and watch horror movies with and just — be with. And Christmas was… well, Christmas. Made for love. Made to share with someone.

Sadly, there was no one in Rocky Valley who fit the bill of a good boyfriend. The boys she’d dated in high school had grown into men she had no intention of dating again. And the ones she had sort of thought about dating saw her only as Grayson’s, Zach’s, or Seth’s little sister.

She wanted to date. She wanted to fall in love. Over-the-top, romantic comedy, made-for-TV, fall-and-Christmas-movie kind of love. That just didn’t seem like something that would happen here in Rocky Valley.

Deciding she’d wasted enough time bemoaning her lot in life, Beth stood up from the booth and hurried to the door, waving goodbye to Tara as she went.

Her phone pinged again, and she looked down to see an email from her childhood best friend, Zoe. Zoe had moved back to London ten years ago when Jack Beckford had broken her heart and sent her running. She hadn’t been back to Rocky Valley since, and Beth missed her. A lot. Zoe had been more like a sister to her than anyone else.

Opening the email and the door at the same time, Beth stepped outside — and

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