Cowboy is Mine (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 5)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Clicking her mouse, the Nirvana Ranch website came up on the screen. She’d read the details over and over, wrapping her brain around the idea that Dodge worked at a spa/retreat. The place seemed like a secluded paradise, priding themselves on privacy, guests connecting with nature and leaving refreshed. The retreat had gained popularity over the last few years, as much for the view of the mountains as for the cowboys who catered to the needs of the guests.

  Krista’s stomach twisted. Dodge definitely could use his charm to impress the ladies.

  Sitting back in her chair, she tapped her foot in frustration. She needed closure. She had a good life, a career in something she was good at and a promising future—she was independent and strong. Yet, a part of her remained in the past. Her mother had recently accused Krista of living vicariously through her stories. Maybe when she first started writing, she had used her characters and their fantasy worlds to assuage her loneliness, but the stand-in for comfort was no longer working. There was a large void in her life and it was time she started figuring out how to fill the hole with things that mattered.

  Picking up her pen, she clicked it in restless energy. She’d been involved with several men since Dodge, but none had made her feel even a smidgeon of what she’d felt with her husband—beautiful, seductive, and amazing. He’d taken away all of her inhibitions and insecurities, replacing them with confidence and capability. In bed, she’d learned what he liked—learned what she liked too. She’d found that not all men liked being told by a woman what she wanted, especially in bed, no matter what he claimed. A few men found it too brazen. Her freedom, when it came to exploration and spontaneity, scared some men, or rather, scared Willard. What had she been thinking? Wasting a good strip tease and corset on him.

  Obviously, she couldn’t be trusted to make the right decision when it came to men because her failure rate was getting higher by the day.

  She had dreams too, not just career-based.

  At twenty-nine, it wasn’t as if her ovaries were shriveling up, but she’d always wanted a child and a husband. Even when she was younger she’d longed for the day when she could shower her own family with love and affection. Truthfully, she’d wanted a baby with Dodge. They’d discussed children when they first married, but they’d both had wanted to wait until he’d been drafted. They’d made each other a promise that once that happened, they’d buy a small house in the suburbs and start a family.

  Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away. She couldn’t allow her emotions to get in the way. She could still love him, but that didn’t mean he deserved it.

  Her mother was always asking Krista when would she settle down, have a few kids. Didn’t her mother see that it wasn’t that easy? Of course, her parents had no clue that she was still married to Dodge. If they did, they would have been on her case daily. They forgot at times that she was an adult.

  Being an adult meant acting like one, and that included no longer allowing Dodge to control her future. She wished that she no longer loved him, or dreamed about him, craved his touch, remembered their lovemaking that lingered so many years later. She wasn’t sure why she tormented herself with his memory.

  Why did she scare stable men like Willard away?

  Looking at the bigger picture, she should be happy that they hadn’t consummated their relationship. She’d caught a glance of him naked once and she hadn’t felt the thrill a woman should when thinking of having sex. She’d told herself over and over again that ‘size’ didn’t matter, but in truth she’d often speculated if that were true. Again, she’d compared another man to Dodge. Not all men could be built like a stallion. She remembered how broad his shoulders were. The lean tapering of his waist. His endurance in and out of bed.

  Sweat beaded between her breasts and her inner thighs fluttered. She picked up a newspaper and fanned herself as her thoughts went to the vibrator she kept in the drawer of her desk. The pink toy was getting too many miles here lately, and she seriously needed to think of trading it in for a newer model—maybe upgrade to the real thing. She wanted a man’s arms wrapped around her, hear him whisper sweet words into her ear, and show her that she was all woman.

  Dodge was a poison that must be eradicated.

  If he wouldn’t return her calls or acknowledge that she wanted a divorce, then she had no other choice than to go to him. If she was a guest at Nirvana, he couldn’t ignore her.

  Back on the Nirvana website, she found the reservation button and clicked on it. A form popped up asking for all of her information and a calendar of the dates available. The first date was six months away. Six months?! What the hell is this place?

  She needed to look at her planner.

  Opening the drawer to her right, she fumbled through a stack of documents, then saw the framed picture. Her breath stilled. Dodge’s smiling face stared back at her, and his eyes were dazzling. She’d taken the picture two days before they split up. He’d just woken up, his thick black hair was tousled and a layer of scratchy beard covered his prominent jaw line. She’d wanted to capture that moment forever. If only she’d known that this would be one of their last, precious moments together, she would have clung to it like a lifeline.

  Emotion filled her chest as she smoothed her finger over his face, over his shoulder, remembering how they’d made passionate love that morning—how he’d held her in his arms. Dodge was the perfect dictionary definition for masculinity, but he’d always opened up, showing her a tender side that she doubted many, if any, had seen. He was romantic, bringing her flowers, leaving her sweet notes on her pillow case. Even signing endearments in the condensation on the bathroom mirror after he showered. When she was sick, he’d make her chicken noodle soup and hot tea because he knew her mom used to do that. When she was sad and missed her parents, he’d get them on the phone and invite them to visit. They did once because even they couldn’t resist her husband’s charm. When she got the job at the newspaper, he’d made a big deal out of it, making her feel special, although the job wasn’t much. He’d taken her to dinner and surprised her with a diamond pendant. She was fully aware that he’d taken some of their savings to get it, but she couldn’t have argued with him because all he ever wanted to do was love her.

  He'd been her best friend. Her lover. Her everything.

  Tears fell to her cheeks and she swiped them away.

  Staring at the blurred words on the form, the first question asked for her name. Well, giving her real name would be counterproductive. She typed in her pen name, Kris Fox. In fact, most days she felt more like Kris than Krista. The next few questions were easy, Address and Gender. Then came a hard one, “What do you consider your most heartbreaking experience?” Really? She didn’t have to answer honestly. After all, would they know? She came up with a clever answer, but in the end, she found herself typing the truth. Having my heartbroken by a womanizer. She was honest to a fault.

  After finishing the questionnaire, she hovered her mouse over the ‘submit’ button. Did she have any other choice but to hunt him down?

  Click.

  Now there was no backing out. She had put down a deposit. Besides, she could use a vacation anyway.

  Her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “My darling, I just finished Wicked Pretenses and I think this is your best yet,” her agent’s shrill voice vibrated the line.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Krista smiled, digging into her now melted ice cream.

  “The publishing house is going to eat this up. Can we expect the last book in the series on time?”

  “I plan to have it on your desk in six months.”

  “That’s early. Is that definitive?” Stella asked.

  “I’m going on vacation and I will have it to you before I leave.” Krista jotted down the date in her planner, then set herself a reminder on her computer.

  “Oh, finally going on that Alaskan cruise you’ve been talking about for a few years?”

  Krista debated on how much she shou
ld divulge. Although she and Stella were friends, even the other woman didn’t know about Dodge. “Not this time. I’m going to Nirvana Ranch, a retreat in Wyoming.”

  “I didn’t know you had an interest in horses and cowboys?”

  Biting her bottom lip, Krista tapped her short fingernail against the top of her desk. “Let’s just say that I have one cowboy in particular in mind.”

  “Well, just be sure I get that book, you hear? I wouldn’t want you to get lost in a cowboy’s arms in Wyoming and forget all about responsibility.”

  “Of course, Stella. When have I ever let you down?”

  “Never. That’s why I love you, darling.”

  After hanging up, Krista pulled up the blank word document and typed in “Wicked Dreams”. No words came. The blinking cursor reminded her of a ticking time bomb.

  Blowing out a long breath, she instead reserved a plane ticket to Wyoming and felt excitement, which was quite odd. She was going to Nirvana to ask for a divorce, and yet all she could think of was finding out if her husband was as wild and incredible as a cowboy as he was a football player.

  CHAPTER TWO

  DODGE WYATT CLENCHED the nail between his gritted teeth, grabbed it with his gloved hand, then pounded the last board into place. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he used his arm to swipe it away, but more came. He dropped his hammer into the grass next to the box of nails and gave it a push with the toe of his boot. Spring was well on its way and the sun beat down exceptionally hot for this time of year in Wyoming, but he couldn’t complain. He enjoyed hard work and had hated being cooped up all winter. This past season had been the hardest, leaving him feeling lonely—lonelier than usual.

  He sat down, pulled off his gloves and leaned against the fence post, uncapping his water and drinking most of it in one gulp. The breeze picked up and dried some of the sweat on his upper body. If he hadn’t taken his shirt off before he started working on the fence, he would have been drenched. His jeans were soaked and moisture dripped into the crack of his ass. Nothing worse than wet boxers.

  Relaxing his head against the wooden rail, he listened to birds chirping from a nearby tree and the sound of hooves pounding the dirt in the distance. The horses were loving the warmth too. He sighed as he thought back to the call he’d gotten from his father last night. He was retiring from the family owned resort in Montana and asked Dodge to come back home to help his brothers take over the helm.

  Dodge had no clue yet what he’d do. His mind was reeling. He’d been gone for a long time and had only visited twice in the last few years.

  There was also a nagging feeling in his chest, and he knew it had nothing to do with anything physical, but all emotional.

  At thirty-one, he was in tip-top shape, much like he’d been when he played football and was conditioning for hours every day. He’d never been afraid of hard work or working out. His health was good, he lived in paradise and he should be overcome with pride.

  Yet, he was far from it.

  He’d received another message from Krista seven days ago. She’d told Jennifer, the receptionist, that it was urgent that he call her back. Of course, he didn’t. He already knew what she wanted. A divorce.

  Why the hell hadn’t he just signed the papers when they’d showed up in the mailbox? It wasn’t like he and Krista had anything left between them. Ten years ago she’d walked away from him after the shit had hit the fan.

  She’d accused him of cheating. Even now, the idea made him sick.

  He’d been angry with her—still was. How could she have just walked away over something as measly as him leaving the toilet seat up and his dishes on the table? Until that point in their relationship, he’d thought they were happy and could have gotten through anything. But when she packed a bag and took off, it showed him that she regretted marrying him. Hell, he’d known they’d done everything up until then with a fire in the seat of their pants, but why wait when you know what you want? He’d wanted her and never regretted putting a ring on her finger. Hell, the ring hadn’t been much, yet she’d worn it proudly. He shook his head.

  The first real heated argument they’d gotten into and she’d given up. After she left, his world had come crashing down. He’d laid around the apartment, waiting on her to come home, or at least call to let him know she was okay. Then his buddies showed up on his doorstep, dragging him out the door, telling him that he needed an evening out of the house.

  Looking back, he realized the decision had been a bad one—very, very bad. He’d expected to drink a couple of beers, then go back home and get a good night’s sleep—or at least he’d hoped. Somehow the path had verged in the wrong direction, and if he could go back in a time machine to change that day, he’d do things a lot differently.

  He’d been a local celebrity, not by choice, playing college football at Florida State. No matter where he went, fans, especially women, recognized him and, although he’d always been flattered by the attention, that was as far as it went. He knew from the very beginning that a man could get trapped into a skunk’s den if he wasn’t careful. And he loved Krista. His heart tugged even now.

  That particular night, his life had forever changed. He’d drunk more than his usual few beers while a handful of sexy co-eds had practically melted over the football players sitting at the bar. One young woman in particular made it clear to Dodge that she wanted to find out if his moves were as good in bed as they were out. He’d been patient with her, signing his autograph on a napkin and tolerating the fact that she’d spilled a can of beer in his lap. He’d disappeared into the men’s restroom to clean up and the resilient blonde had followed him in.

  Damn, the girl had just gotten carried away, but Krista couldn’t have chosen the worst possible time to walk in. The blonde had been smashed up against him, rubbing the beer stain that just happened to be on his zipper.

  The look in his wife’s eyes had struck him dead cold across the small space of the dingy men’s room. Hell, he’d gone after her, wanting to explain and tell her that the blonde had practically forced herself on him, but he knew how pathetic it sounded. It would have been a waste of his breath.

  Krista had already been worried about how other women threw themselves at him, but he’d always assured her that she was the only one for him. It’d been the truth.

  He’d even stood back, watching her bust up his truck in the parking lot, and not a sliver of anger had come over him. The cracked headlights and dented hood had been a symbol of their marriage. As well-built and pretty as the Dodge appeared, it had suffered damage.

  He knew Krista like the back of his hand. Knew her ins and outs, and he recognized how unhappy she must have been to get so angry that she’d smash up his truck. Truly, the truck had meant a lot to him, but it hadn’t been anywhere close to how much he’d cared for Krista. As he stood there, seeing the hurt on her face, he realized that he’d always cause her pain. To find his own dreams in the pro football world, she’d have to support him, trust him. Apparently, she never did. Female fans would continue to throw themselves at him, and he guessed there would be more busted headlights and hoods. If she didn’t believe in his fidelity, how could they have made it work?

  So, he’d left her standing in the parking lot. It’d been the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life.

  He had every intention of having his lawyer draw up divorce papers, but it seemed no time was the right time. He’d always expected that she’d come knocking, forcing him to sign papers. Wherever she was in the world, she must have seen the pictures of him in sports magazines along with the rotating women on his arm.

  Damn, he’d been the worst version of himself during those days.

  Playing pro he’d thought he was invincible. Sleeping around had become his salve. Hell, women found him attractive, falling at his feet, and he didn’t see any reason to deny himself the pleasure. He knew now, not one woman had come close to Krista.

  Then tragedy struck…

  During a game, Dodge tore hi
s ACL and MCL that left him down and out. He’d defied the doctor’s orders during rehab, pushing himself harder and faster than he should have. The first game that he was back on the field, he reinjured his ACL and effectively, ended his NFL career. He’d been devastated.

  He’d moved from place to place until the money ran out, and luckily, he found Nirvana. Here he found peace and tranquility, didn’t need to worry about the outside world where people remembered him as the football player who ended his career with an injury.

  Nirvana had been his savior. Lately though, he went to bed every night feeling enraged with isolation and regret. What if he’d fought for Krista? What if he’d found her and told her his feelings? What if he’d moved to the left instead of the right on the field that day? Would he still be in the game?

  So many what ifs.

  Hearing the clopping of a horse’s hooves, Dodge stood and looked over the field. He laughed and waved. Dade was sitting in a saddle. He hadn’t done that in a long time—not since the accident that had left him unable to walk.

  As Dade approached, he dipped his hat in greeting. “What do you think of my new wheels? I traded in the wheelchair for this beauty.” He patted the mare’s backside.

  Dodge leaned against the top rail and planted his booted foot on the bottom. “I think this is a sight for sore eyes. I knew you’d be back in the saddle, bro.” His heart filled with pride at his friend who’d proven the doctor’s wrong when they said he’d never walk again. Sure, he wasn’t completely recovered, but he’d come leaps and bounds. Dodge understood all too well how badly a man could want something and make it his only goal to get it. After his injury, he wasn’t sure he’d walk without a noticeable limp, but most days, he could easily forget the injury he’d suffered.