Cowboy For Hire

by Victoria James

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other books by Victoria James

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  Also by Victoria James

  Also in this series...

  The Trouble with Cowboys

  The Red River Series

  A Risk Worth Taking

  The Best Man’s Baby

  The Doctor’s Fake Fiancée

  The Rebel’s Return

  The Tall Pines Ranch Series

  Rescued By the Rancher

  The Rancher’s Second Chance

  The Still Harbor Series

  Falling for the P.I.

  Falling for Her Enemy

  The Shadow Creek, Montana Series

  Christmas with the Sheriff

  The Baby Bombshell

  The Doctor’s Redemption

  Baby on the Bad Boy’s Doorstep

  The Firefighter’s Pretend Fiancée

  A Christmas Miracle for the Doctor

  The A Billionaire for Christmas series

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Baby

  The Billionaire’s Christmas Proposal

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  Victoria

  James

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Victoria James. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Road

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Liz Pelletier and Heather Howland

  Cover design by Hang Le

  Cover art by Milan_Jovic/iStock, thekopmylife/iStock, Winston/Depositphotos, miflippo/Depositphotos

  Interior design by Heather Howland

  MMP ISBN 978-1-64063-821-1

  ebook ISBN 978-1-64063-822-8

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2020

  To Andrew…thank you for

  the most beautiful twenty years.

  There is a little bit of you in every hero I write.

  Chapter One

  “Stop! You can’t go out there!”

  Sarah Turner jolted back from the door, sending her coffee swishing over the rim of the mug as her housekeeper, Edna Casey, burst into the office. The older woman was panting, clutching a folded newspaper to her small frame, her eyes as wide as the antique wagon wheels leaning against the barn.

  Sarah glanced around, half expecting a herd of angry cattle to be barreling their way, but the area was clear of immediate danger. “What’s wrong?”

  Mrs. Casey shoved the newspaper at her. “There’s been a horrible mistake.”

  Frowning, Sarah took the paper. “Is there a problem with the ad I placed?”

  Mrs. Casey made a strangled noise and nodded, her eyes still wide.

  Dread pooled in Sarah’s stomach. She’d checked the online version of the ad, and it had been perfect. So perfect, she’d already received quite a few calls about the new ranch foreman position. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning, and she had a dozen interviews ahead of her. This time tomorrow, she’d be able to hire a new foreman and get the family ranch up and running again.

  She inhaled sharply as she read the only ad that boasted the ranch’s phone number. The ad that Edna must be referring to. The ad she never, ever, in a million years would have placed.

  A bead of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades, and she put her coffee mug down with a thud on the desk. Squeezing her eyes shut, she said a quick prayer that maybe when she opened them again, the ad would be correct. She opened one eye, and a wave of nausea hit. Nope. The “horrible mistake” was still there.

  Cowboy for Her: Experienced and skilled cowboy companion for lonely young woman. Duties include social engagements, long walks, and romantic evenings. Excellent compensation, full benefits, and paid time off. Call for interview.

  “No. No, no, no. It was supposed to say ‘foreman for hire,’ not…what even is this?” She clutched the newspaper. “Experienced and skilled…social engagements…romantic evenings… It sounds like I’m hiring an escort!”

  It was so bad, it was almost laughable. Except it wasn’t.

  Mrs. Casey was standing so straight, she could have been a sergeant. Her thin lips were pursed, hands on her narrow hips. “Your parents would be mortified!”

  Her parents were the least of her problems right now, especially since neither was alive. Sarah rubbed her temples, deciding not to respond. This was her first act as owner of the family ranch, and while Edna was like family, this was all on Sarah.

  She looked at the paper again and groaned as she read the ad for a foreman—her ad—below the disaster in question, noting that it listed the wrong number. “They must have mixed up my ad with someone else’s. Of all the stupid errors…”

  She marched across the room to her computer, brought up the page, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the correct version was still in place.

  Ranch Manager/Foreman: The ranch manager is responsible for all aspects of operating the ranch. Experience necessary, full benefits, immediate start date.

  Wait. So were the calls she’d been getting in response to the online ad or the print version? She glanced out the windows and swallowed hard. All those men out there had to be applying for the foreman position. Right?

  Sarah put her elbows on the desk and rubbed her temples. This was so bad. “How could they have printed this? I don’t even understand who would write an ad like this.”

  “They should be fired. All of them at that two-bit paper,” Mrs. Casey said, her outrage clinging to her words like honey on a spoon as her loyalty shifted back to Sarah. “Are you getting a migraine? You keep rubbing your temples.” She squared her shoulders and nodded once. “I’ll take over. This is too much stress for you.”

  Sarah stopped the temple rubbing. “No. I’m fine, and I know what I can handle. This is my ranch, and I’m going to find a way to run it.”

  “There is a reason your father never wanted you in the ranching business—it’s no way of life for a woman. Alongside all those men out there day in and day out…” Edna shook her head.

  If they kept this conversation going, Sarah would end up with a migraine. It wasn’t a new topic, but it was one that always ended in an argument. “You know that’s not true. There are plenty of women ranchers, despite this myth you and my parents kept clinging to. This is the twenty-first cen
tury, and even if it wasn’t, that kind of thinking is and has always been backward.”

  “It’s prudent, it’s wise, and it’s realistic.”

  “It’s a bunch of lies that even my father didn’t believe. Before Josh—” She rolled her shoulders and forced back the immediate pang of grief. “Before Josh died, Dad knew that we’d be the ones to take over this ranch when he was gone, and he had no objections. The whole ‘women shouldn’t be in the ranching business’ was a front. A cover-up for his fear that something might happen to me. I’m not living that way any longer.”

  Mrs. Casey pursed her lips, coming at it from a different direction. “You know you could sell this place; it’s what your mother wanted. You could sell and afford to buy a house without all this land and live a comfortable life.” Her eyes ignited with hope.

  “No.”

  Mrs. Casey made a harrumph noise and squared her shoulders. “This is an argument for another day. For now, we must come up with a solution for the hooligans outside.”

  Sarah almost laughed at the hooligan remark, but it also reminded her of just how out of touch Mrs. Casey was with the modern-day world. The poor woman had been with Sarah’s family for more than two decades and was the epitome of straitlaced, black-and-white-movie era, sheltered, small-town elderly lady. This ranch had almost become a compound in the last decade, keeping them away from the neighbors and friends—and progress. While Sarah wasn’t exactly living a wild life out here in rural Montana, she considered herself worldlier than Edna Casey.

  By the end of this year, all that would change.

  “Okay, let me think. Those men out there…they must have read the online ad, right? I mean, who reads the paper these days anyway? And who in their right mind would even think that ad was real?”

  Mrs. Casey adjusted the blinds and peered outside. “No proper man would respond to an ad for an escort. I will address the men out there and whoever so dares to admit to being here for an escort position shall receive a blistering lecture from me.”

  Sarah resisted the urge to rub her temples again. “I will deal with the men outside. This is my ranch. I’m the one doing the interviews. I’m more than capable of handling a few cowboys, regardless of the position they’re here for.”

  Sarah joined Mrs. Casey at the window and took in the appearance of the men outside. There was nothing odd about them; they all looked like the typical cowboys she’d grown up around on the ranch with their well-worn cowboy hats and jeans, fit and strong bodies.

  “I’ll be fine,” she told Mrs. Casey. “You go back to the house. I’m optimistic that most of them are here to apply for the foreman position. They all look like real cowboys.” She slanted the blinds and peered out the window again, trying to convince herself as well as Edna.

  “Well, if not, they should all be ashamed of themselves, and I don’t mind telling them on my way back to the house.”

  Sarah placed her arm around Mrs. Casey’s thin shoulders and gently nudged her in the direction of the door. “I’ve got this. You go on about your day. I’ll be in for dinner.”

  Mrs. Casey gave Sarah one last look, as though she wondered if she’d ever see her again, before opening the door and walking out.

  “Everything will be just fine,” Sarah called after her, feeling like the biggest liar ever.

  …

  Hours later, Sarah slowly lowered her head to the desk, her hand on a bottle of Tylenol, ready to be done with the ranching business after one day. This was a disaster.

  She was a disaster.

  It appeared the small town of Wishing River had an exorbitant amount of cowboys who were ready to trade in their chaps for roses and wine. It also appeared the cowboys here did, in fact, still read the paper.

  This couldn’t be happening. Or happened. It was over. All of it. Her career as a rancher was done before it even had a chance to start, because there was no way word wouldn’t get out about this. But hey, at least Sarah knew that there were six cowboys willing to take her around town and romance her—if she paid them.

  She banged her head against the desk. So stupid. After her family’s long-standing foreman, Mike Ballinger, walked off the job last Friday without any notice, she’d been left hanging. Thankfully, the other cowboys knew their jobs and were capable of continuing, but the role of ranch manager was essential to an operation this size. She needed someone immediately.

  The knock on the door was the final straw. How many men were available for escort services in this town? She stomped across her late father’s office and whipped open the door to find…one of the most breathtaking men she’d ever seen in her entire twenty-six years.

  The sun was setting in the distance behind him. Typically the sight of it disappearing over the mountains would make her pause and take it in, except tonight it was him she was noticing. If she were part of the Montana tourism board, she’d be hiring him to stand there, just like that, with the mountains in the backdrop, the sun casting a glow over his perfect…everything.

  He must be an escort. Was that bad of her to assume? The bizarre thought that maybe she should rethink her whole position on hiring an escort crossed her mind for the briefest of moments.

  She forced herself to focus. He was in his late twenties or early thirties. His worn cowboy hat dipped low, but not low enough that she couldn’t admire the aqua-blue eyes that stood out against his tanned skin. Light stubble highlighted a strong jaw and lean features. His dark-blue-and-white-checked shirt was rolled up midway to his elbows and revealed strong, tanned forearms. His jeans were worn and clung to his lean but powerful-looking body. He was a man who could make her nervous just by standing there.

  He was probably very good at his escort position.

  “Good afternoon, Miss. I’m here for the advertised job. I’m sorry I’m late—I had an emergency situation I needed to deal with at my current position.”

  She had no idea escorts had emergency situations. Whatever. That was none of her business. She clutched the doorknob, prepared to close it on him and the rest of the terrible day. “That’s okay. There was a bit of a mix-up in the ad, so I’m afraid you came all the way out here for nothing. This is for a ranch manager position.”

  He gave her a nod. “Right. That’s what I’m here for. I saw the ad online last night.”

  Relief swept through her. Online. He’d seen the online version. She smiled and held out her hand. “Oh. Well, in that case, I’m Sarah Turner.”

  He grasped her hand firmly, and she tried to maintain eye contact, but this man had an entirely different effect on her than anyone had before. His large hand was warm, slightly rough…a working man’s hand, and his gaze was that of—

  “Cade Walker.”

  She pulled her hand back and opened the door wider. “Nice to meet you. Come on in and have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the worn oak desk. Since she’d had no use for her notes, they were all still neatly lined up on the wooden surface.

  Swallowing down the sudden slew of nerves and emotions, she settled into the large leather chair that somehow seemed too big for her, as though she were still the little girl playing in her daddy’s swivel chair when visiting him at lunchtime.

  She blinked a few times. The days where she and her brother would race across the office, trying to beat the other one to get first dibs on the chair…those days were over. She avoided the framed family photos, because that family hadn’t existed in well over a decade. It was all up to her now.

  “Here’s my résumé,” he said, handing her two pieces of paper. She scanned them, quickly taking in the relevant points, relieved that he seemed to have so much experience.

  “So you’ve been ranching a long time,” she started, trying to act as though she held interviews all the time.

  He crossed one leg over the other. “Yes, since I was sixteen. The last six years, I’ve been the ranch
manager at the Donnelly ranch here in Wishing River.”

  She nodded. “That’s great. I see you’ve also listed your references.”

  “Yes, feel free to call them. Martin Donnelly is my current employer.”

  She furrowed her brows, trying to rack her brain, but she’d been so out of the loop that she couldn’t place it. “Donnelly… That sounds very familiar.”

  He smiled. “Not far down the road at all.”

  She wasn’t surprised she didn’t know any of the local ranchers by name. Little details like who their neighbors were hadn’t been important enough for her father to share. She cleared her throat and gathered up her notes. “So as I’m sure you already know, the ranch manager is responsible for all aspects of operating the ranch, including: the preparation of our annual operating budget and our long-term rolling business plan, a grass-fed beef operations strategy, a pasture maintenance plan, care of livestock and feeding, pasture in summer, adverse weather conditions planning, hay in winter, health checks, calving, irrigation, ranch staff, leadership…”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I’m very comfortable and familiar with all of that. It’s very similar to what I’ve already been doing.”

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to get to the last part, the one that kept her up last night and, well, every night since she decided to step up and take over the ranch. “The ranch manager also must be able to train me.”

  If he was surprised, he did a good job of keeping his features neutral. “Train you?”

  She placed her forearms on the desk, folding her hands together, trying to look as though it were perfectly normal that a rancher’s child wouldn’t know a thing about how to run a ranch. “Yes. I’d like to be able to share certain aspects of the ranch manager’s job by the one-year mark.”

  A flash of surprise flickered across those eyes. “That would be fine.”

  She nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She spent the next fifteen minutes giving him a rundown of their ranch. His questions demonstrated how knowledgeable he was, and his genuine interest in her vision was promising.

  “I guess the last thing to tell you is that our ranch manager left abruptly last week, so this position needs to be filled as soon as possible.”