True Love’s Fire – Scott Walker’s story
Thunderbird – Equalizers – Kyle’s story
Welcome to My World – Bowie Travis’s story
How to Rope a McCoy – Heath’s story
Hell Yeah! Sweeter Version – same great stories – just a little less graphic language in the sex scenes
Cowboy Heat-Sweeter
Hot on Her Trail – Sweeter
Her Magic Touch – Sweeter
A Brown Eyed Handsome Man – Sweeter
Badass – Sweeter
Burning Love, Cajun Style – Sweeter
Forget Me Never, Cajun Style – Sweeter
I’ll See You In My Dreams – Sweeter
Finding Dandi – Sweeter
Other Books by Sable Hunter
Texas Heat
T-R-O-U-B-L-E
My Aliyah – Heart In Chains
Hill Country Heart
Unchained Melody
Scarlet Fever
Bobby Does Dallas
Love’s Magic Spell
El Camino Real Series
Breath of Heaven
Wolf Call in HAUNTING Collection
Come With Me: Dixie Dreaming I
Green With Envy (with Ryan O’Leary)
For A Hero (with Jess Hunter)
Cowboys Never Fold
A Poker Flat Novel
Lexi Post
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Copyright © 2014 by Lexi Post
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
For information contact Lexi Post at www.lexipostbooks.com
Cover design by Paige Wood and Bella Media Management
Cover photo: copyright 2014 ROB LANG/ Roblangimages.com
Acknowledgments
To Bob Fabich, my very own cowboy. Thank you for your support and knowledge.
Many people were invaluable resources for this book. Paige Wood who isn’t shy about telling me what needs to be fixed and provided a great cover design. I’m so glad you’re my sister. Brian Wood who helped me find the right word more times than I can count, including the title. Claire Ashgrove who set me straight on horses and riding naked; lesson well learned. Joanne Mayer for teaching me about poker; the casino lessons were particularly fascinating. Any incorrect information in this story is completely the fault of the author.
I couldn’t have produced this book without my critique partner, Marie Patrick and her keen eye and patience. I also want to thank Merritt Crowder for her willingness to read my work and help me make it better.
What wonderful family and friends I have!
Author’s Note
Cowboys Never Fold was inspired by Bret Harte’s short story, The Outcasts of Poker Flat, first published in 1869. In Harte’s story, four members of Poker Flat society—a gambler, a prostitute, a madam, and a drunk—are banned from the western settlement when a sudden urge to be virtuous overtakes the citizens. On their way to the next settlement, the outcasts stop to rest at the base of the high mountains they will need to cross, but as it is November, it is quite cold. An innocent couple, a young man and his fiancée (a tavern waitress), descends from the mountain tops and rests with them. The young man idolizes the poker player and tells him they are going to Poker Flat to marry. The outcasts recognize the goodness of the two young people and adjust their behavior so as not to taint them. As the odd group converse, a blizzard buries them in snow. In the end, none, outcast nor innocent, survive.
But what if the poker player was a woman and the young man a full grown cowboy? Could an outcast and an innocent find a love that could survive both outside forces and their own differences?
Chapter One
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WADE JOHNSON SLOWED his Chevy Silverado and stared at the wooden sign with burnt-in letters hanging above the dirt road: POKER FLAT NUDIST RESORT.
It swung between two weathered posts, the sign’s newness jolting the senses against the Old West background.
Stopping his pickup, he hesitated to make the left turn. His best friend had called in a big favor. Nine years ago, Wade had been blinded by love and almost made the worst mistake of his life. If it hadn’t been for Dale’s instincts and a paternity test, Wade would have been shackled to a selfish sorority girl and left with another man’s kid. Shit, he could have been a country song.
He owed Dale and he’d never back out on a friend, even if it meant working at a nudist resort for three months. “I am doing this.” The sound of his voice gave him the boost he needed. With his commitment firmly in place despite a dozen misgivings, he turned the truck down the dirt road.
At least the pay was outstanding, and he could choose his own horseflesh and set up the stables as he felt they should be run. Just the thought of starting a new operation had him stepping on the gas a bit harder, his truck throwing up a cloud of dust that could probably be seen in Wickenburg.
After a good mile of nothing but desert, a wooden barrier declared the end of the road. To the right was an overly large garage with only three sides. He brought the truck to a stop underneath the shelter. It could clearly house a couple dozen cars and the massive metal structure was tall enough for RVs too. The roof had to be at least twenty feet high.
Exiting his vehicle, his boots hit concrete. Nice. If this is how the owner built the garage, he couldn’t wait to see the new stables. Dale’s voice in his head dampened his enthusiasm. I’ve sent three men out there to set up this woman’s stables and all three quit. This could kill my temp agency’s reputation. I need someone I can trust to find out what’s going on. If she is a cranky old bitch who expects miracles, I don’t need her as a client. But if it’s something else, I want to know. If her resort takes off, I plan to be the one filling her staffing needs.
Wade straightened his black Stetson and walked toward the old man sleeping on a chair in the relative coolness of the structure. It was August and days in the desert usually hit three digit degrees. The sound of his boots hitting the floor didn’t wake the man, so he shook him.
“What? What? I don’t knows nothin’.” The man’s eyes were a bit glazed and his chin showed a few days of beard growth.
Wade tipped his hat. “Afternoon. I’m Wade Johnson. Dale Osborn sent me to set up the stables here.”
The man stood and teetered before steadying himself with the folding chair. “I’m Billy.” The smell of alcohol was faint but definitely there. Billy thrust out his hand as if suddenly remembering his manners.
Wade shook, taking in the faded blue jeans, ripped sneakers and dirty t-shirt. He sincerely hoped Billy wouldn’t be the one greeting the guests. “Where would I find the owner?”
The short man stared at him for a few moments. “Right. Right. Come on. I’ll takes you down.”
Down? Wade followed Billy to a tan golf cart and got in. As they proceeded out of the garage, he looked everywhere for the supposed resort, but there was nothing but desert for miles, and no butte stood out to hide it.
Then they drove past the wooden barricade and after a few minutes he recognized the edges of what must have been a hundred-year-old ravine that had weathered away to create a small canyon. As they drew closer to the ledge, the resort came into view.
“Wow.” It was an ingenious design. One that had him rethinking a few of his own plans for a spread.
Billy smiled a toothy grin. “Yup. That be what everyone says.”
Wade shook his head in astonishment. Across the ravine, near the top was a natural shelf of land where a large building, pool and stables sat surrounded by green lawn and narrow pathways for walking. Below that shelf was another that was home to small cottages sporadically plac
ed among the natural desert landscape. There were more walking trails going farther into the small canyon. At the bottom was a creek with a strip of green growth on each side.
“How long did it take to build this place?”
Billy frowned. “If you counts the stonewallin’ from the county, two years. But when the permits was in place and legit, the construction took a year. The stables is the newest building.” He pointed to the white structure.
Wade’s stomach tensed with excitement. A new barn, corral and soon horses of his choosing without spending a dime of his own money was too enticing to pass up, not that he would. Dale’s company was new and he needed a good reputation if he was to succeed in Phoenix. Wade owed him and he would stay long enough to discover why the other stablemen left. That Wade would enjoy the job he was hired for was a bonus. He could already see possibilities for trails down to the creek. How far did it go?
“We could has opened sooner if we has reli…help we can depend on. I hope you plan to stay longer than the last horse man.” Billy spat over the side of the cart. “We needs someone we can count on out here.”
He looked at Billy and his excitement dimmed. “Was the stable manager quitting the only thing that held everything up?”
“Nah. We gots a nosey sheriff and stupid stuff breaks every day.” Billy slowed the cart as they drove around a switchback. After the cart rumbled across a well-made wooden bridge that spanned the creek, Billy pointed at the road. “This here path were designed for the wagon and stagecoach. Only the employees gets to drive those. The golf carts, them is for the guests.”
“Stagecoach?” Wade scanned the resort as they drove closer, expecting to see the oddity sitting on the verdant lawn.
Billy broke into a big grin, revealing a missing tooth on the left side. “You betcha. Prettiest darn thing I has ever seen. It’s a repro…copy of one of them Old West ones. You be in charge of it. Maybe you can give me a ride in it? Miss Kendra don’t lets me drive that one.”
Wade silently agreed with Miss Kendra’s decision. There were a lot of the woman’s decisions he agreed with, so why did she have such a hard time keeping staff when she hadn’t even opened? It couldn’t be because of the nude clientele. She didn’t have any yet. He would never have taken a job at a nudist resort if Dale hadn’t needed him. People walking around nude in public wasn’t his thing.
Oh shit. What if the resort was the owner’s retirement dream come true and she ran the place nude? Now that was a sight he wasn’t in a hurry to see.
“Here you be. Miss Kendra through that there pavilion. At least, that where I sees her last. She were bossing over the buildin’ of some water thingy by the pool. Whatever it are, I sure when she be done, it will look good.”
Wade stepped out and tipped his hat. “Thank you.” As Billy drove away, Wade shook his head. How could the old man obviously idolize the owner and yet others quit on her? He strolled in the direction Billy indicated. He appreciated the view the resort presented, but he mentally braced himself for encountering a naked old woman.
As he turned the corner at the end of the freestanding pavilion, he found the pool, its crystal-clear water actually making him thirsty. The large rectangle had a curvy pool coming off it that imitated a winding river. Every eight feet or so a concrete high-table broke the surface of the water. Talk about an enticement to drink. Whatever kind of personality this woman had, he would be the first to admit she was smart.
He approached a group of three men with Desert Pool Design emblazoned on their shirts. They rested in the shade, chowing down on sandwiches. “Good afternoon. Could you tell me where to find Miss Kendra Lowe?”
One of the men pointed, his mouth full.
“Thanks.”
Wade strode toward the bar. It was under another pavilion, but this one attached to the main building and its far side was supported by stone columns. The sleek wood bar top was at least three inches of ironwood. The rattling of glasses came from behind it but he couldn’t see anyone.
“Hello there. I’m looking for Miss Kendra Lowe?”
A young woman stood up from behind the bar, her disheveled dark brown hair caught in a clip behind her head. She wiped sweat from her brow with the back of a dirty hand. It seemed everything was clean but the workers. She gazed at him, no curiosity whatsoever in the deep blue of her eyes. “I’m Kendra Lowe.”
Wade couldn’t help staring in disbelief. Out of habit, he wiped his hand on his jeans although it was probably cleaner than hers. “Good afternoon, Ms. Lowe. I’m Wade Johnson. Your new stable manager.”
She studied him as she shook his hand, her expression revealing nothing.
He, on the other hand, didn’t expect the owner of such a pristine spread to be so young, maybe thirty or so, almost his age. Her mouth was wide with a straight nose above it. She had very high cheekbones, but her face held none of the lines of a woman used to manual work, which she appeared to be doing. Her arms were toned, almost muscular as revealed by the modest black tank she wore, though nothing could truly hide the substantial chest it covered. But she was too thin by half, as his grandmother would say.
She placed one dirty hand on her waist and jutted out her hip, giving it a curve that wasn’t there before. “So, Cowboy, it appears Dale was successful in finding me another stable manager. Good. I don’t have much time left before we open and the trails still need to be chosen, the horses need to be purchased and transported, feed needs to be ordered and a ton of other details I have no clue about. I must have someone who is going to stay at least three months. Can you commit to that, no matter what?”
A surge of adrenaline shot through his body again when she mentioned picking horses. He could pretty much stay however long she needed for a chance to do that. “Yes, Ms. Lowe, I can.”
“Good. I can’t be worrying about that side of the operation, so you just tell me what you need, Cowboy, and we’ll make it happen.” She turned toward the main building. “Lacey!”
Wade stared at his new boss. This was a dream job to any cowboy worthy of riding, which made it harder to understand why so many before him quit. Maybe she was really a micromanager and pretended not to be. Or maybe she was too hard to read. Her eyes, a nice royal blue, were anything but windows to her soul. There was no smile of welcome or satisfaction. Even her tone of voice didn’t give away anything.
A petite blonde woman came through the glass door of the building and smiled warmly as she approached. “Howdy, I’m Lacey.”
Now that was the kind of greeting he liked. He shook her hand, careful not to squeeze too hard.
Kendra leaned on the bar, her substantial chest supported by the dark wood. “Lacey will show you your living quarters. Then become familiar with the stables, corrals and your office. We can meet around nine tonight to discuss next steps.”
“Nine, yes Ms. Lowe.” He nodded, not sure what to make of the late hour, but she was the boss.
Lacey hooked her arm in his. “Right this way.”
“And Cowboy.” They’d only taken a couple steps, when Kendra stopped them. “Don’t call me Ms. Lowe. It makes me sound like a teacher or something. Kendra will do.”
He tipped his hat. “I can do that if you can call me Wade.”
Kendra’s face didn’t even twitch. He waited for a sign from her that she understood. Finally, she nodded once. “Fair enough. See you at nine, Wade.”
KENDRA WATCHED WADE leave, his tight butt impossible to ignore. Once he was through the glass door into the main building, she let herself slither back over the edge of the bar to sit on the floor. Damn, the man was hot. Why had Dale stopped sending her old codgers? The last thing she needed now was a distraction.
And Wade Johnson was definitely a distraction. His clean-shaven chin could serve as artwork. His brown eyes, which matched his short hair, reminded her of milk chocolate and his voice had her muscles wanting to melt. Thank God she’d been behind the bar because what really had her libido revving was his broad shoulders. Only a muscular ma
n could be that thin at the waist and have such broad shoulders. Dammit. She hadn’t had sex since she bought Poker Flat and she’d be damned if she’d have it now with some hunky cowboy employee. The odds were stacked against that working out well.
Refocusing, she pulled the small cooler back into place, assuring it would drain through the floor and not all over it. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about the cowboy being underfoot. He had his domain and she had hers. She just needed to make it through their meeting tonight. After wiping her hands on her work jeans, she picked up the glass washer and set it in the sink. The plumber would be in tomorrow morning to take care of installing the final pieces of the bar according to code. Luckily, she had the liquor license from the last owner of the Poker Flat Bar, which had been located where her garage now stood. That license was worth every penny she’d paid for the ramshackle building she tore down.
And having Adriana as the bartender of her new bar should keep the liquor sales high, if the woman kept her clothes on. Kendra wiped her hands on a bar towel and shook her head. She had quite the crew here, but she knew all of them and their weaknesses. All she had to do is discover Wade Johnson’s weakness and she could feel comfortable because right now he seemed too perfect and that would never work here. She threw the towel over the towel rack and stepped out from behind the bar.
Thankfully, she’d instituted the rule that all employees must be clothed while on shift. She’d found that tidbit in her research on nudist resorts. There was no way she’d be able to keep her hands off her new cowboy if he decided to get naked. And there was no way Adriana would be able to keep her legs closed with that man around. A former prostitute, Adriana still loved sex, but she also loved not having to do it for the money.
As if she’d known she was being thought of, Adriana pushed open the glass door to the outdoor/indoor bar. She held a tray of glasses filled with what appeared to be iced tea. Her skimpy jean shorts and red-checkered halter had her looking like a Mexican Daisy Duke. Kendra admired the woman on that level. Her comfort with her sexuality was impressive. As a teenager, Kendra’s own substantial chest had simply added to her aura of trailer trash so she kept it well covered most of the time.
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