Spotlight & Giveaway: Forbidden to the Texas Soldier by Julie Benson

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Julie Benson’s new release: Forbidden to the Texas Soldier

A soldier’s promise. A stubborn cowgirl unwilling to admit she needs help. An immediate and sizzling attraction they’re both determined to fight.

A bombing injury derails widower and former bull rider Dash Lange’s army career, forcing him home to rebuild his life again. When a friend asks him to check on his younger sister as well as his father and struggling ranch, Dash agrees, happy to have a purpose. But when he meets the sister, it all goes sideways, starting with the bro code.

Lainey Gallagher counts only on herself. Her family is fractured—by abandonment, addiction, and a brother deployed overseas. She’s holding her bookstore together through sheer will and hopes adding a coffee café will boost business. But her father’s horse ranch is a money suck, and when his newly trained rodeo stock horses are stolen, Lainey steps in to save the ranch, find the thief, and keep her dad sober.

A take-charge cowboy riding to the rescue is the last thing she wants. Or is it?

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Forbidden to the Texas Soldier 

Ten months ago, Dash Lange returned to Wichita Falls, Texas, to recover from ankle surgery, go through rehab, and figure out what the hell to do with his life. He’d achieved the first two goals, but as he sat in a financial planning meeting on his parents’ ranch, he wasn’t one step closer to moving on with his life.

When his phone rang, he grabbed it off the dining room table, silenced the ringer, and glanced at the screen. “I’ve got to take this call. It’s my buddy Cade calling from Afghanistan,” he said to his parents and brothers. Then without waiting for permission, Dash limped through the house he grew up in and headed outside. “Hey Cade. What’s up?”

“Are you crazy? Seriously man. I saw the Insta photos you posted yesterday. You got steel cajónes to jump out of a plane after all the work the doctors did piecing together your ankle.”

“You called me from Afghanistan to give me shit about skydiving?”

“No, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” Cade paused. “Is the high really worth the risk?”

“It sure as hell is.” Other than fighting to stay on a bull for eight seconds when he’d competed as a bull rider, nothing but skydiving made him feel alive. Unable to face the rodeo life when he and Aspen had toured the circuit together competing, after her death he enlisted in the army hoping to outrun his grief.

His hand tightened around his phone. Damn suicide bomber robbed him of that life and of a friend.

Landon, you damn big-hearted goofball. Why didn’t you wait? Couldn’t you see I was working to get into position to tackle the bomber? You had a wife waiting for you. It should’ve been me. I had nothing to lose.

The thunder of the building collapsing rattled Dash’s body. A gray, acidic smoke burned his lungs and nose. He ran, but another deafening crash rolled over him. Something knocked him down. A slicing pain in his thigh tore through him. The ringing in his ears mixed with desperate, unearthly screams. Some of them his. He couldn’t breathe. Sweat poured down his face and chest.

The past clawed at Dash, threatening to devour him. Fight it. Name five things you see. His parents red barn, desperately in need of painting. The chipped white mailbox at the end of the driveway. His mother’s garden dotted with bits of green. The Johnsons’ two-story old farmhouse on the opposite side of the old highway. The grove of oak trees to his left.

“Dash, you still there?” Cade asked.

More in control, he said, “Yeah, sorry. My mind wandered.” Yup, all the way back to Afghanistan and one of the two worst days in his life. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were still going to Luke’s gallery opening tomorrow night.”

“Of course. No way I’d miss it. Why?”

“Would you check on my dad?”

“Is something wrong?” Dash started walking to nowhere in particular. Cows wandered, some munched on grass, others congregated under a nearby tree in the fields spread out in front of him. An occasional moo or leaves rustled by the spring breeze swirled around him. Unlike when he lived here as a kid, the peaceful setting failed to calm him since his return.

“I don’t know, but Dad sounds different when we’ve talked. He goes off on weird tangents and a couple times he’s slurred his words.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Dash massaged his temple, trying to keep his small headache from growing worse.

“He says he’s fine. That it’s nothing more than having a little trouble sleeping because he’s working too hard and worried about the business since thunderstorms wiped out the hay crop.”

“Ranching isn’t easy.” Funny how taking on those challenges never appealed to him, a man who loved pushing limits and craved an adrenaline rush the way an alcoholic did whiskey.

“Could be the stress is getting to him, but Dad’s an alcoholic. I’m worried he’s drinking again. Will you stop by the ranch? See what shape the place is in. Is Dad staying on top of what needs doing? The same with the house. Check out the stock to see if it’s in good shape. Then talk to Dad and tell me what you think.”

Dash stumbled on a rock. His ankle wobbled but didn’t give out. “Have you talked to your sister about this? What does she think about what’s going on with your dad?”

“LJ says he’s fine, but she’s been different with me during this deployment. She didn’t tell me about the hay getting wiped out. An old high school friend did. When I asked her, she said she didn’t say anything because it wasn’t a big deal. Then she said financially there was no reason to worry.”

“Are you saying that’s not like her?”

“LJ’s the family worrier, but on this deployment all she does is blow sunshine up my ass.”

A cardinal’s song floated through the air. The soft breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby pecan trees. But despite the tranquil setting, Dash couldn’t shake his edginess.

“You should talk to LJ.”

“I’ve tried.” Cade paused. “Since you’ll be in town for Luke’s opening, will you check things out with Dad for me?”

If not for Cade applying a tourniquet made from his shirt, Dash would’ve bled out in seconds after they removed the beam crushing his leg. There was nothing the right side of legal he wouldn’t do for his friend. “Sure, I’ll stop by your dad’s place on Saturday. Then I’ll either shoot you a text or an email.”

Dash’s thoughts shifted to his friend’s hometown. “Service really is different from other towns, isn’t it?”

Maybe there was something special about the town? What else could explain his fellow bombing survivors Owen and Tanner, and Luke, the first responder on the scene, all finding peace and healing there? What if Service could work its magic on him?

“The town has always worked miracles for soldiers. A lot of the credit goes to Horses for Heroes,” Cade said referring to the horse therapy program located in Service. “It’s amazing what horse therapy can do.”

“Yeah, Owen says the place helped him, but he says his wife did more to start his healing from the bombing than the therapy program did,” Dash said.

Cade chuckled. “If our three buddies could find women willing to put up with their sorry asses, maybe there’s hope for you.”

Dash doubted it, but sometimes late at night, with his defenses nonexistent, his heart and mind ached for a second chance to have a family of his own. For the anchor, permanence, and a future spent with someone.

“Right. I’ll find a woman I’m interested in when one hasn’t gotten a rise out of me in over five years.”

Cade laughed. “My dad says, ‘even a blind sow finds an acorn.’ Folks in Service, especially those raised there, understand better than most how serving in the military changes a person. So, you never know. Just don’t get any ideas about my sister,” his friend teased.

“Like I’d want anything to do with a woman who’s what, ten years younger?”

“I guess so. She’s twenty-four.”

Exactly ten years. “No thanks. The women I’ve met that age are more interested in social media than their future. The last thing I need when I’m trying to get my shit together is a woman who cares more about partying than where her life’s going.”

“My sister’s a caretaker on steroids with everyone. I worry about LJ.” Cade told him how his sister met a man who moved to Service to manage a distribution site for some big chain. “Three months later his wife showed up. Turned out she stayed behind to sell the house.”

“What an asshole.”

“So, if you meet her, no offense, pal, but don’t get any ideas. LJ needs a man who’s not fighting demons and can take care of her.”

“Hey, I’m the first one to admit how screwed up I am.” Dash focused on the field below the horizon. One cow alone, hell and gone from the rest of the herd, caught his attention. His chest tightened.

“I’m amazed with what you’ve been through you haven’t said to hell with it.”

Honestly, he thought about it more than once. If not for knowing what that would do to his parents, he might have. “Even if your sister wasn’t too young for me, I’ve seen dating a friend’s sister go wrong. I don’t want any part of that.”

“Me, too, and when it goes bad it gets ugly.”

“Yup, with a man losing both a girlfriend and a good friend.” Dash rubbed the back of his neck. “Even when it works, it’s a juggling act to make sure the friend doesn’t feel like he’s been cut out. Then there’s how often a man gets put in the middle of sibling fights and is expected to choose a side.”

“You forgot about how it’s just weird. I’m thinking about friends complaining about their girlfriends. She’s working too much and doesn’t have time for me. She’s riding my case about playing video games or going out with my buddies.”

“Or her mom’s staying for a week, and the woman drives me crazy,” Dash added. “That’s why I never date a friend’s sister. It’s as risky as navigating a mine field without a map.”

“Lainey, your dad’s here and he’s drunk.”

“That is so not funny,” Lainey Gallagher said to her friend Reese, who along with her husband, owned The True-Blue Bar and Grill and The True-Blue, Too.

After the microwaved dinged, she retrieved her leftovers from last night’s mac and cheese and carried them to her kitchen table, phone pressed to her ear.

“I wish I could say I was joking, but I’m not. He came in a couple hours ago with Harold Green.”

Lainey’s mind refused to accept what Reese said. No, her father wouldn’t do this. Couldn’t. Not after almost ten years of sobriety.

“Lainey? Are you there?”

“Yes. I’m just overwhelmed. I can’t believe Dad did this.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known he was here drinking, I would’ve cut him off, but the new bartender didn’t know Levi or that he’s an alcoholic. Then when Harold left a while ago, Levi stayed.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lainey said as she walked into the closet to get dressed. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

When she reached The True-Blue, Too, Reese and her husband Tanner’s separate revamped part of the restaurant featuring a more social restaurant/club, her friend unlocked the door to let her in. “I guess he and Harold were celebrating his retirement.”

“I don’t get it. He’s celebrated with friends before and never took a drink.”

“I talked to Harold before I called you. He had no idea what drove Levi back to the bottle. All he said was your dad kept saying how proud he was of you and Cade. Then he went on about how many mistakes he’s made over the years. Other than that, he talked about the rodeo. He kept saying if he’d drawn a different bull or he’d gone to another rodeo, how much better you and Cade’s lives would be.”

Hi Jinx. The bull who threw her father and stomped on him leaving him in a wheelchair when she was fourteen. Then a month later, unable to cope with her father’s appointments, care and the financial problems, her mom abandoned them. After that, her father crawled into the bottle until a CPS case worker arrived at their door.

For years, Lainey thought the same thing until she realized doing that was a waste of energy. After that, she’d toughened up, vowed no one would ever hurt her the way her mother had and moved on.

“I thought Dad had given up torturing himself wondering what if,” Lainey said as Reese pointed to her father who sat in his wheelchair, his arms folded on a table near the bar, his head resting on them.

“If you need help getting him into your truck, Beckett can help,” Reese said referring to the restaurant’s head bartender.

After Lainey nodded and thanked her friend, Reese left to finish closing. Refusing to give into pity, Lainey inhaled deeply and blinked to clear her vision. When she joined her father, she shook his shoulder. “Dad, it’s LJ. I’m here to take you home.”

It took two stronger shakes to rouse him. Then he gazed up at her with bloodshot, glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry, LJ. I let you down.”

“What happened? Why did you take a drink? No matter what it is, you can tell me, and I’ll help.”

“I don’t deserve a daughter like you. I never shoulda let you quit college when your grandma died.”

“It was my decision.”

In college when she inherited Page Ponderings after her Nana’s death, she intended to sell the business and the building, but she failed to find a buyer. To make the payments on the second mortgage Nana took out to make her dad’s house wheelchair accessible, Lainey kept the store open. Somehow then, instead of returning to school for the second semester, time and life got away from her. But no more. “No sense revisiting the past,” she said. “Let’s get you home, Dad.”

When they reached the ranch and she got her dad inside, Lainey stared at the disaster in front of her. One eerily similar to what she discovered when she returned after Nana died.

Cardboard boxes from deliveries, dirty dishes, empty water bottles, takeout food containers, and plastic bags littered the living room. She bet if she checked his fridge, she’d discover it empty except for a block of moldy cheddar cheese and slimy deli ham. How could the house have gotten this bad since the last time she visited a couple weeks ago?

Since her dad couldn’t get himself into or out of the truck earlier, Lainey doubted he could maneuver from his chair to his bed. Once she wheeled him into the bedroom, she discovered that room worse than the main living area. Clothes covered the bed, except for a small rectangle where he slept. Plates, some with remnants of previous meals, and cups littered every flat surface, including the floor. She shuddered, thinking of what bugs inhabited the room with her father. Cobwebs abounded. With all the clutter, how could he maneuver his wheelchair through the room?

While mentally adding decluttering and sandblasting the house, or at least starting the project, to her ever-growing to-do list, she plowed a path to the bed. Then after she helped him into bed, she kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, Dad.”

His hand reached out from under the bedding and clasped hers. “You’re a one in a million daughter. Not many would take on what you have since my accident.”

Her mother certainly hadn’t. As she swiped the clothes off her father’s recliner, she realized how far she had come in the five years since Nana died. Fighting off the pressure building in her chest, she vowed her father’s issues wouldn’t consume her life again.

Tomorrow she would clean the house, search his old hiding places for booze, and discover what drove her father to drink again. Then they could develop a strategy to help him cope and remain sober. She would reassure him that she and Cade loved him no matter what, and then her life would be her own again.

The next morning when Lainey plated the huevos rancheros and placed them in the oven to keep warm, she glanced around the kitchen. Cupboards, appliances, a kitchen table and chairs, but without a single item to give it personality or warmth, and certainly no reminders of her mother.

Lainey opened the cupboard next to the stove, found the ibuprofen, shook two tablets out of the bottle, and replaced it. Then she retrieved a glass, filled it with water and placed both items at her father’s place at the kitchen table. How many times all those years ago had she performed this routine?

She bent over into a forward fold yoga pose to stretch out her back. Despite the recliner in her dad’s room being comfy as sleeping in chairs go, she only slept a couple hours because of nightmares of her dad throwing up and choking to death. Then she’d rush to his side to ensure he was still breathing. She groaned, realizing she’d have been better off staying awake all night.

When her father finally rolled into the kitchen and to his spot at the table, his hand shook as he picked up the medication and lifted the glass to his lips. “I’m sorry I let you down, LJ.”

“I don’t want to focus on that. You’ve been so proud of your sobriety. Please tell me what happened so I can help, Dad.”

She retrieved the huevos rancheros from the oven. Silverware pinged and dinged as she grabbed a fork. “Why would you take a drink?”

“I thought after all these years one wouldn’t hurt.”

She stared at him. How could he think he could handle even a drop of alcohol? “Why didn’t you call your AA sponsor?”

“Charlie moved to Austin over a year ago.”

“And you didn’t get a new one?”

He shrugged. Not good.

Her fists clenched, and her nails bit into her skin. “But you’ve been going to meetings, right?”

“Here and there.”

“Hearing you say that scares me, Pops.”

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry to worry you, but I’m doing fine. This was just a little slip. But if it’ll make you rest easier, I’ll go back to meetings every week and get a new sponsor.”

“You promise?”

“I won’t let you down again.”

She wanted to believe him, but his rapid foot tapping, the way he leaned away from her and avoided her gaze, worried her. But she ignored her concerns for fear doubting him would cause her father to give up or alienate him. Already she saw him shutting down, pulling away from her while he built a wall of male pride to hide behind.

His plate now empty, her father glanced at her and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Now git. You got things to do before opening the store.”

“I thought I’d clean up some before I left for work. I could even move back for a while to help out,” she said, praying he would agree. Being at the ranch would allow her to see the house, ensure he stayed alcohol free, that he followed through on his promises, and that she wouldn’t find a condemned notice on the front door the next time she arrived. But it would come at the price of her freedom.

At least temporarily.

She shivered thinking of the last time she’d said that.

“I don’t need babysitting.” Her father’s sharp, irate tone, along with his scowl indicated he considered the subject closed.

No big surprise, but who was it that said a person missed one hundred percent of the shots you never take? “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll pop in after work before I head to Luke’s gallery opening tonight, but if you need something before then, call me.”

“No need to stop by or worry about me. Have fun tonight. You don’t do that enough.”

No kidding. There had to be more to life than work and … yeah that was pretty much all she had, except for her father, brother, and a handful of close friends.

Lately she found herself craving excitement. Adventure. Passion, not necessarily with a person, though she wouldn’t slam the door in a man’s face should one who aroused those feelings show up. But mostly, she wanted to feel an emotion other than responsibility or concern. Hopefully at the gallery opening tonight she could make progress on that goal.

After a quick shower and throwing on a simple tiered denim dress with coral jewelry and cowboy boots, Lainey headed downstairs to the store. As she hauled an armful of the latest bestselling thriller into the store’s front window, she hoped the book would draw people in. At least those who hadn’t already purchased the novel online.

Lainey recalled how Page Ponderings looked when she was a child. Nana buzzed around the store, chatting with the many customers, discussing books, the latest gossip, recipes, and even occasionally sports. In those days, Maria worked for her grandmother helping to stock the shelves and run the register. Goodness how times changed. Every day eking out a living out of the store proved more difficult.

But what if adding the coffee café didn’t turn her business around?

Needing an attitude adjustment, she grabbed her cell phone off the counter and called Samantha. When her friend answered, Lainey said, “Do you have time to give me a pep talk?”

“I’ll make time. What’s up?”

“It’s my dad. He got drunk last night at The True-Blue, Too.”

“Why would he do that after being sober, what? Ten years?

“I don’t have a clue what caused the fall off the wagon because he refused to talk about it. In fact, he completely shut down on me. How do I help if I don’t know what the problem is?” Lainey said as she counted the morning cash and placed it in the cash register drawer.

“Have you talked to Cade? Maybe he knows what’s bothering your dad, or if he doesn’t, he could talk to him.”

“I can’t. Won’t. Not when there’s nothing he can do to help. After the bombing and Landon’s death, the reality of how dangerous being deployed can be really hit home.”

While in Afghanistan, Tanner, Owen, Dash, and Landon swept a building for intelligence. Somehow a suicide bomber snuck into the building. All Lainey knew other than that was Landon tackled the bomber, sacrificing himself to save the others. Samantha’s fiancé, Luke, who had been nearby, lost hearing in one ear.

“I understand, but he’d want to know about this,” Samantha said.

“Yesterday my ducks weren’t in a row, but they were at least nearby. I mean, my life isn’t perfect, and no one would call it anything but boring, but I was happy.” Okay. Maybe happy stretched it a bit, but she was content. “But today? My ducks have run off. I think they’ve flown south for the winter.”

“It’s spring.”

“I know. That’s how messed up they are.”

Excerpt. ©Julie Benson. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: An ebook copy of FORBIDDEN TO THE TEXAS SOLDIER + one additional Tule ebook of the winner’s choice

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Meet the Author:

An avid daydreamer, Julie Benson doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t creating stories. After graduating from the University of Texas at Dallas with a degree in Sociology, she worked as case manager for a social services agency before having her children. Three boys, and many years later, she started actively pursuing a writing career to challenge her mind and save her sanity. Now she writes full time in Dallas, where she lives with her husband, their three sons, two lovable black dogs, a mischievous brown one and a turtle. Julie says, while her house is never quiet or predictable, it is full of heroes.

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