True-Blue Cowboy--Includes a bonus novella

by Sara Richardson

  Everly started after him, but the mud slurped her boot and held her foot in a rut. The rest of her body pitched forward, landing her face-first into the muck. “I’m adding a special to the menu,” she called, mopping the slop off of her face. “Duck confit!”

  “Need some help in there?” Owen Gotthard stood on the outside of the fence, his arms draped casually over the top rail.

  “Nope. I’m good.” Uttering a rib-shaking groan, Everly eased to her feet. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve been embarrassed about getting outwitted by a duck, but her landlord had once been a farmer himself, so he got the whole struggle with animals that misbehaved.

  Besides that, he had a kind, grandfatherly look about him—thinning hair as white as the glaciers on Colorado’s highest peaks, quirked lips that hinted at a sense of humor, eyes lined with a lengthy history of hearty laughter.

  Even though she was covered in mud, Everly couldn’t help but smile at him. “You’re early for breakfast,” she said, making her way to the fence. Behind her, the squabble between Walter and Dixie 1 moved into the chicken coop.

  “Uh, yeah.” For once, Owen’s sooty dark eyes didn’t smile. “I gotta talk to you. Thought I’d best do it before you open up for the day.”

  She ducked under the fence, her own smile evening out. It wasn’t unusual to see Owen hanging around the farm. He loved his land, but being in his late seventies, he couldn’t work it the way he once had. After leasing Everly the farm plot, he and his wife had moved into a patio home in town. If you asked her, that twelve hundred square feet of confinement seemed to make him stir crazy.

  She faced him. “What can I do for you? Besides serve you a warm coconut scone with your breakfast?”

  Owen stared at a rock next to his boot as though he wished he could crawl under it. “I sold the land, Everly,” he muttered. “I had to. I got an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  Her lungs strained to hold back the surprised gasp that split her chest in two. In the courtroom, she’d learned to be prepared for anything, to never let her surprise show, and she grasped at that practiced composure now. “Wow.” She stripped the sudden surge of emotion from her tone. “That’s, um…definitely a surprise.”

  Owen’s face scrunched with such concern she might as well have been sobbing. “The guy offered me cash,” he blurted. “More than I would’ve ever asked. Me and the missus have been talking about a move to Florida for a while now. You know how bad her COPD is.”

  “Of course.” The shock of Owen’s news tied her throat in knots, but Everly adopted her courtroom voice. “I understand.” Her hands didn’t seem to, though. They trembled. “I know you’ve been concerned about her.” And he owned the land. He had every right to sell it. She’d just hoped he’d be selling it to her one day.

  “You don’t have to worry about the farm, though.” Owen gave her hand a squeeze as though desperate to offer her reassurance. “I told the guy all about it. That it’s a fixture in this town. That it’s important for the community. Hopefully he’ll leave it alone.”

  Hopefully? She drew in a long, purifying breath so her voice wouldn’t break. “Who did you tell? Who bought it?” Who was sneaking up on her to take away everything she’d dreamed of having for herself?

  “Mateo Torres, that new bronc rider in town.”

  “No. That’s not possible.” A mere two weeks ago, she’d spent the evening with Mateo. She’d danced with him. She’d kissed him. She would’ve done a lot more with him, too, if she hadn’t come to her senses. “Mateo would’ve told me.” He hadn’t mentioned anything about purchasing Owen’s land that night.

  “He signed the papers right in front of my eyes. Gave me a check for the full amount like it was nothin’,” Owen marveled, but Everly was not impressed. She’d known plenty of men who threw their money around to get what they wanted. Her ex-fiancé, for example. Her own father. She’d grown up with men like that. The only difference was, Mateo wore a cowboy hat and brass belt buckle instead of a tailor-made suit. But she guessed he was still a liar just like the rest of them.

  “What does he want with it?” she asked, glancing at her watch. Her regulars would have to wait for their coffee this morning. “Why would he need this much land?” As far as she knew, he still traveled the circuit, which meant he wouldn’t be in Topaz Falls full-time anyway.

  Owen’s shoulders shrugged in an arthritic hunch. “Don’t know. He didn’t say much. I’m sure he won’t bother you about the farm, though. I told him you were a good tenant, always pay on time.”

  Now she’d have to pay Mateo. God, he’d be her landlord. The man she couldn’t seem to stop fantasizing about would be the one controlling her future. “I wish I could’ve bought it.” The words slipped out unchecked. It had only been a few years since she’d left the courtroom and she’d already lost her touch.

  “Could you?” Owen almost looked hopeful. Obvious guilt bore down on the poor man’s forehead. “Maybe it’s not too late…”

  The slightest hesitation flickered in her heart. She could. She could call up her parents and tell them she needed money, and they’d send it right away. It didn’t matter what amount. But the day her life fell apart, she’d decided. She had to be done with that life. She wanted to be done with the money that brought secrets and lies with it, that covered things up, that had given her a false sense of security in the world.

  She’d left so fast she didn’t give her parents a chance to try and convince her to stay. Her whole life they’d chosen everything for her—her prep school, her friends, boyfriends, her college, grad school—and it hadn’t worked out so well. Now she was on her own. Or at least she had been until Mateo had gone and bought her dream property. She wasn’t stupid. Mateo wouldn’t want the farm with its old decrepit buildings and lack of a steady profit.

  “I definitely can’t buy it. Especially not with cash,” she told Owen. “You did the right thing taking Mateo’s offer. I’m happy for you, Owen. Really.” She’d already learned it was possible to be happy and devastated at the same time. Tears pinched at the corners of her eyes. Before they fell, she prodded Owen toward the entrance to the café. “Now, why don’t you go on in and claim your table? I’ll bring out your coffee as soon as I deal with Walter.”

  “Okay.” His head still bowed slightly, as though he couldn’t quite look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Everly. Really.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” All of the forced smiling had started to hurt her cheeks. “You two will love Florida. It’ll be great for you both.”

  “Yeah, I really think we will.” He turned and glanced over his shoulder as he walked away. “Let me know if you want to meet with Mateo and me before we leave.”

  “Not necessary,” she sang, as chipper as a chickadee. “I’ll meet with him myself.” After the anger stopped boiling up in her chest. It wasn’t like she could scream and yell at her new landlord. He had the power to kick her out of her own damn home.

  Would he? Would Mateo come in and ruin everything she’d built on the farm? She couldn’t let him. The community needed this place as much as she did. She taught cooking classes and delivered meals to people who were struggling, and invited the kids from the school over to learn about the animals. He couldn’t take that away. From her or from the town.

  Everly slogged over to the chicken coop. The squawking had quieted, and when she ducked inside she saw why. All of the hens had turned on Walter, pecking the air madly in his direction. Being the wuss that he was, he’d cowered in a corner. “All right, all right.” She shooed the irate hens away. “Come here, mister.” Leaning down, she snatched the duck into her arms. He honked irritably, but didn’t fight her. Before he could change his mind, she crept out of the coop and back into the sunlight.

  God, it was beautiful. A perfect fall day. The cragged mountain peaks were still frosted with powdery snow from an early storm two weeks ago. And the changing golden aspen leaves only seemed to make all of the other colors more vibrant—the deep
greens of the pine forests slanting the mountainsides, the tall browning grasses that had started to wilt under morning frosts. After hearing Owen’s news, she appreciated the view even more.

  The little farm sat on the edge of town, a humble operation that included a small stone summer house—which she’d turned into a farm-to-table café—and the main two-bedroom farmhouse where she lived. For the past year and a half, she’d put everything into this place. Her heart and soul. She’d refinished the entire interior of that house with her own two hands and on her own dime. She’d resurrected the garden plots that Owen had let go to ruin. She’d lovingly made it hers. Now it might be taken away.

  “What am I going to do?” she asked Walter as she carted him over to his own enclosed pen. Solitary confinement, she liked to call it. “I guess I could find another place to live.” Maybe use the MBA she’d earned along with her law degree. But the thing was…she’d fallen in love with the farm. The animals, the gardens, the green hills and valleys that stretched over to the mountainside. She’d even fallen in love with the mud. And yes, with Walter, too. She set him down and gave him an affectionate pat as he waddled away from her.

  When she’d left San Francisco, a friend of a friend had told her that Owen’s farm was for lease in Colorado. At the time, she’d needed a refuge so she’d figured, what the heck? She’d check it out, maybe stay while she figured out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

  Well, she’d figured it out, but it wasn’t exactly a profitable vocation. For the first time in her life, she could barely pay her bills each month.

  Everly locked Walter’s pen and glanced around the farm. The facilities themselves weren’t much to look at. She’d mended the fences and kept the garden plots weeded and neat. But everything else was still old and rustic.

  Mateo might’ve seemed like a good guy that night they’d gone to the party, but it was obviously all part of his act. He would do whatever benefited him. Which meant she had to convince him that the farm had value.

  Everything had been taken away from her once, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.

  “Easy, Amigo.” Mateo slid onto the bronc’s back, holding the reins in a firm hand.

  The sleek, coppery gelding tossed its head, those bulging muscles twitching in a show of agitation. Amigo loathed being confined by the bucking chute’s metal gate. Fences made the horse restless.

  Mateo could relate, though the fences that threatened to confine him weren’t exactly the literal sort. Nope. They came more in the form of responsibilities and expectations and promises he’d made to himself a long time ago. Those were the burdens he tried to buck when he rode.

  Anticipation boiled up from that unreachable place inside of him. He didn’t know where it had come from, only that it had always been there—the need to battle, to conquer, to win. But the bronc’s will happened to be as strong as his own, which meant both of them always put up one hell of a fight. Even when they were only training.

  “Ready?” Levi Cortez stood outside the chute, poised to unlatch the gate and turn Amigo loose into the corral. Tucker, Cortez’s stable manager, stood on the other side, untying the tethers that kept the horse in place. Tightening his grip, Mateo gave his friend a nod and braced his upper body into position. Truth was, he never felt ready. Maybe that’s why he loved it so much. You couldn’t prepare yourself for getting flung around by a pissed-off, two-ton horse. Once they were in that arena, it was all instinct and adrenaline, baby. His two favorite things.

  The gate flew open and Amigo hurled himself out of the chute, already kicking his entire back end high into the air. The force was like going from zero to eighty in two seconds. Mateo welcomed the adrenaline rush. His whole body locked into Amigo’s momentum, tensed into position while the bronc thrashed its way across the corral. The effort grated on Mateo’s joints.

  “Not today, you fucking son of a bitch.” Trash-talking the horse had become part of his routine. Not that anyone could hear it over Amigo’s grunts and snorts. Almost sounded like that damn horse was laughing at him. Which only made him dig his heels in harder.

  At the pressure, Amigo jackknifed left and jarred Mateo’s grip loose. Before he could correct, the bronc arched his back and gave a flying kick, sending Mateo head over ass above the horse’s mane.

  The sensation of sailing through the air always gave his stomach that nauseating sting. When he finally hit the dirt, the thud echoed back in his ears. “Damn.” The winded groan punched through his mouth. He was lucky the impact had only knocked the wind out of him and nothing else. Just to be sure, he lay there a minute sucking air and moving his limbs to see if they still worked.

  Tucker lured Amigo into the other corral while Mateo ripped off his helmet and stared up at the sky.

  “Six seconds.” Levi sauntered over and held out his phone so Mateo could see the timer. “But it might be a record for somersaults. Looked to me like you got in three good rotations.” His friend reached out a hand to help him up. Levi was a bull rider; he knew something about pain.

  “You don’t win purses for somersaults.” Mateo spit out the metallic blood that had flooded his mouth and tossed his helmet to the ground. Must’ve bit the inside of his cheek when he’d hit. “Seems Amigo is in a mood today.” The ride always ended up with him off the horse, but usually he managed to stay on longer than six seconds. And sometimes he was even able to land on his feet. Pain needled between his shoulder blades. Not today.

  “Damn shame they don’t pay you for somersaults.” Levi stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “We’d both be rich.”

  Mateo ducked the fence and leaned against it, his ears still ringing. “I’m not gonna rely on my acrobatic abilities to give me long-term security.” Didn’t have to be a genius to figure out this gig wasn’t going to last forever. Every year that passed, it seemed he fell harder, and his body had started to feel every buck well into the next day. “Is it just me or does it hurt worse every time?”

  Levi’s laugh was dull. “I wish it was just you.” The two of them had grown up together on the circuit—training under the famed all-around rodeo champion Gunner Raines. Along with bull rider Ty Forrester and barrel racer Charity Stone, they’d become known as Raines’ Renegades. They’d had a lot of success, and even a sponsorship with a denim company. Back then, Mateo would hit the ground and bounce right back up. These days it had turned into more of a stagger. Not that he’d admit it to Levi, but lately he’d started to think more about the future. Which was why he’d gone and sunk most of his savings into Owen Gotthard’s land.

  “You want me to pen up Amigo for the day?” Tucker handed Mateo and Levi each a water bottle.

  The horse was still trotting along the arena’s fence, winding himself down.

  “Nah. He needs a good run.” Mateo hadn’t been riding him as much since he’d had his horses bunking up at Levi’s family ranch. It’d been a couple of months since he’d moved his favorite training broncs to Topaz Falls, and he didn’t have a place to keep them. Yet. “I’ll put him back when he’s settled—”

  “Mateo! There you are!” Charity Stone stomped out from behind the stables.

  “Uh-oh.” Levi assessed their colleague with a smirk. “Someone’s got their panties in a tangle. What the hell did you do now?”

  “No idea.” He’d hardly seen Charity the last few days. He’d been too busy finalizing the purchase of his land. “It’s been a while since she’s punched me. Maybe she’s going through withdrawals.” Out of the four Raine’s Renegades, he and Charity sparred the most. They had that brother/sister thing happening. Seeing as how he missed his three sisters, it made him feel more at home. Though Charity looked nothing like Inez, María Luisa, and Ana Sofia. With that long blond hair and angelic face, he’d seen many a man mistake Charity for a sweet, charming rodeo queen. Until she opened her big mouth, that was. “Hey there, Calamity Jane.” He greeted her with a smile meant to set her off.

  Sure enough, her crystalline blue ey
es blazed. “I can’t believe you bought Owen’s farm.”

  Mateo stretched, trying to work a new kink out of his lower back. “What’s wrong with that?” Everyone knew he’d been looking for property to buy. The last few months, when he was in town, he’d parked his fifth-wheel on Levi’s property, but he didn’t want to camp out forever. Sixty-five acres would give him plenty of room to build his own place and then section off the rest to put up an investment property. Freedom. That’s what Owen’s land would give him. Free rein over his future—his family’s future.

  Charity bolted her hands to her hips as though she was trying to make herself look taller. Not that she needed to. She’d already perfected the art of intimidating glares. “Everly’s my friend.”

  Couldn’t resist a setup like that. Mateo shared a look with Levi. “The poor woman.” They both cracked up.

  Her glare could’ve sent two-ton Amigo running scared. “What about the farm?” Calamity Jane demanded. “What’s gonna happen to Everly’s home?”

  Ohhhh. That’s what had her all riled up. Mateo shrugged. “Not sure yet.” Though he doubted he’d have to worry much about it. He’d spent less than an hour with Everly on their mandatory date, but he’d seen enough to know she was still hung up on her life back in San Francisco. She might look the part of the country girl now, but she’d also been a lawyer, which meant she’d likely come from money. And yet she was only leasing the farm. She hadn’t bought it. That was one reason he’d finally approached Owen. He fully expected her to go running back home eventually, and that’d be just fine with him.

  Somehow, Everly had gotten to him that night. Most of the time he could walk away from a date and forget the woman’s name, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. Couldn’t seem to forget how it’d made him feel when she’d moaned and grabbed his ass. She was definitely a complication he did not need.

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Charity got that look about her, the one that warned she wanted to punch him in the shoulder. Mateo backed up just in case.