The Sheikh And The Cowgirl

by Holly Rayner

  THE SHEIKH AND THE COWGIRL

  By Holly Rayner

  Copyright 2017 by Holly Rayner

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Table Of Contents:

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  ONE

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  Alarm clocks were for the birds.

  Anne-Marie groaned as the loud, penetrating beep of her own alarm screamed out into the darkness of her bedroom. She rolled over onto her stomach, slamming a palm against the top of the clock and silencing it. She lay in her bed, warm and comfortable, her eyes begging to stay closed as she rested in her perfect cocoon.

  Still, she had responsibilities. As her father had always said, no one chose to be a rancher because it was easy.

  Opening her eyes, she rubbed away some sleep before sitting up, resting her forearms on top of her raised knees. There hadn’t been a day in her life that Anne-Marie Benson hadn’t woken up before the sun. She could count a million sunrises, each one more beautiful than the last. Sometimes, though, she wished she could just have one good lie-in. Perhaps sleep until noon and do nothing else all day.

  Nah.

  Tossing the blanket to the side, Anne-Marie slid out of bed, her bare feet padding along the cool wooden floor that hadn’t been updated since the early twentieth century—maybe longer. Each floorboard creaked as she made her way expertly in the dark to her small country kitchen, where she set up the coffeepot.

  Anne-Marie had been to town to pick up supplies a while back, and she had come across a coffee maker that used little cups to produce just one cup of flavored coffee. She had been horrified by the whole thing, though the people in the store had just laughed at her. Pouring loose coffee grounds into the filter, she pressed the on button and headed back to her bedroom, waving to a photograph on the wall.

  The pair in the picture did not wave back.

  Opening her closet, Anne-Marie pulled out a long-sleeved plaid shirt, a pair of jeans, and a tool belt. She quickly pulled on her clothing, grabbing the belt, and bringing it into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and tossed her long, chestnut-brown hair into a practical ponytail. The silence of the morning had become her regular companion, and she listened to the crunch of the toothbrush bristles before she spit her final round into the sink and rinsed it away.

  Anne-Marie hadn’t been raised to be a high-maintenance girl. She wore simple clothes and took little time to get ready each day—the better to get work done—and that was that. As she made her way back into the kitchen, the smell of hot black coffee tickled her nostrils, and she filled an old, rust-orange mug before taking a delicate sip as she sat at a square wooden table, alone.

  Her father had always taken his coffee black. It was something she’d started doing with him when she entered her teens, and he had let her. Some of her best memories were of sitting at that table with him, drinking the hot, bitter liquid before they headed out into the fields for the day. She finished about half of her cup before setting it down and strapping on her leather work belt.

  It was time to start the day.

  Anne-Marie opened her front door, which led to a sweeping, rounded porch. The exterior of the house was whitewashed, though it hadn’t been painted in so long that it was veering toward a sickly gray color, like spoiled milk. An old rocking chair creaked in front of a neglected flower bed, and Anne-Marie considered taking a seat in it for a moment before thinking better of it. Her charges would be demanding food right about now, and she had to set them free.

  Gazing out at the land, Anne-Marie took a breath, giving herself a moment to enjoy the rising sun as it peeked over the horizon. The thing about Texas was that it was one long stretch of flat land that granted full access to the towering beauty of the sky. All around her the heavens were saturated with creamy oranges and pinks, swirling around a smattering of clouds. Whenever she saw that sky, she knew her parents were in a safe place, even if they couldn’t be with her.

  The front-porch steps groaned beneath her meager weight as she headed toward the large barn situated a stone’s throw from the ranch house. A black-and-white cat dashed out from beneath the porch and began coiling itself around her legs as she walked, and Anne-Marie laughed.

  “I was wondering where you were, Buckle! Were you hiding under the porch all night long?”

  The cat meowed, continuing to rub against her legs until Anne-Marie was forced to stop and lift the purring creature into her arms. She scratched the cat’s head as she continued on toward the barn.

  “I’d ask if you’re hungry, but you’re feeling pretty portly this morning. I take it the mice were good eating last night?”

  Buckle continued to purr contentedly, happy to rest in her arms until she reached the barn door. When she put him down to open it, he protested with a loud meow.

  “I have other tenants to take care of too, you know. It can’t always be about you.”

  Sliding the barn door open, she was met with a long pathway surrounded on either side by horse stalls. The barn smelled of hay and horse manure, and Anne-Marie made a note that today would be a stall-mucking day. Those were not always the best of days.

  A gentle chorus of neighs met her as she walked in to get her supplies.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Anne-Marie said.

  Hearing her voice, the horses grew excited and began pawing at the ground.

  “Calm yourselves down now. I’ll get to each of you this morning.”

  Anne-Marie grabbed her brushes and leads and started at the first stall.

  “Good morning, Sunshine,” she said to the cream-colored horse in the first stall.

  Sunshine was a retired mare that had been sent from New York to live out a peaceful life in the country. She was a gentle girl who loved carrots and apples, but especially sugar cubes. Actually, everyone in that barn loved sugar cubes, including Anne-Marie. She gave the horse a gentle pat on the nose before giving her a good-morning brush and leading her out to the grass-covered field, releasing her to do as she pleased.

  Sunshine dipped her head and began eating grass, content, and Anne-Marie returned to the barn and continued down the line until all seven horses were brushed and let out to pasture. Buckle stuck by her side as she worked, his little head darting around at the slightest hint of a mouse. By the time Anne-Marie had put all her supplies away, the sun was well up in the sky, warming the earth after a cool spring night.

  Anne-Marie washed her hands at a silver basin before stepping back outside and checking on the horses, who all seemed to be in good spirits that morning. Satisfied that they were all set, she headed back to the farmhouse, opening the door as Buckle rushed in and headed to his food and water bowls.

  “I think you’ve had enough. Don’t you?” Anne-Marie asked with a twinkle of humor in her eye
s.

  Buckle seemed to disagree, as he hungrily munched at the fish-shaped food pellets in his bowl.

  Anne-Marie chuckled as she pulled out saucepans from a cabinet and pulled eggs and sausage from her small refrigerator. She stirred the eggs together with a fork as she turned on the stove, the mixture hissing as she tipped it into the hot pan.

  The house warmed with the smell of hot food, and Anne-Marie brushed a strand of chestnut hair from her face as she finished scrambling her eggs and made sure her sausage was fully cooked. Dishing the food onto a cracked blue plate, she set it on the table and grabbed a fork and a glass of milk before digging in.

  Smelling better fare, Buckle leapt from his own food station to the table and licked his chops as he watched her eat. Anne-Marie pointed the fork at him.

  “Not in your life, buddy. I get to have my breakfast too, just like everyone else.”

  Buckle glared at her.

  “If you’re not going to be good company, you can go back outside and hunt for mice. Go make yourself useful, why don’t you?”

  Buckle considered her words for a moment before he seemed to find wisdom in them and jumped down. When he got to the door, he looked at her with expectation in his eyes. With an eye roll of her own, Anne-Marie stood and opened the door, gesturing toward the great outdoors.

  “Your Highness,” she said mockingly.

  The cat didn’t seem to pick up on her sarcasm, and he darted outside and headed toward the barn.

  Anne-Marie closed the door behind him and headed back toward the table, finishing her meal. She washed her dishes and replaced them in the cabinet, keeping her solitary little kitchen clean and tidy, just like her mother had always liked it. Setting her tool belt back on her hips, she stepped out onto the porch and raised a hand to block the sun from her eyes.

  The day was warming up quickly. While it was only spring, it was still Texas, and the weather got hot, fast. A recent storm had brought the long grasses back to life, and Anne-Marie stared out at her many acres of land that stretched as far as the eye could see. She would never tire of the view.

  As beautiful as the view was, however, it took a lot of work to maintain, and Anne-Marie headed over to Sunshine as she chomped happily at grass covered in sweet morning dew.

  “All right, girl, you’re coming with me this morning,” Anne-Marie said.

  The horse blew out a stubborn huff and continued munching. Anne-Marie gently pulled her head away from the grass and slid a worn-down bridle over her head.

  “I promise, you can eat when we get there. This will be far more work for me than it will be for you.”

  Sunshine huffed again, though she didn’t protest as Anne-Marie gently gripped her mane to lift herself onto the animal’s broad back. Anne-Marie had been riding bareback since she had first sat on a horse, and it had always been her preferred method of riding. All that heavy saddlery never had looked comfortable to her eyes, and anything she could do to alleviate an animal’s suffering was always the best option.

  She guided Sunshine toward the outer perimeter of the ranch and leaned down to whisper in the horse’s ear.

  “Feel like going for a run this morning?”

  Sunshine whinnied, which Anne-Marie took as agreement. She gave the horse a gentle kick before leaning in and giving her plenty of rein to run free, which she did, happily.

  Together, they flew through the grassy landscape, and Anne-Marie closed her eyes, letting Sunshine take over for a minute as she let the fresh air glide along the edges of her face. At twenty-seven, Anne-Marie sometimes felt decades older, worn out from work and loneliness, but when she was on the back of a horse, galloping through her fields, she felt like the vivacious young woman she really was.

  Sunshine sped on for some time. When Anne-Marie felt her tiring, she gave the rein a gentle tug to signal her to slow down. They went the rest of the way to the outer fence leisurely, taking their time to smell the open plains and bask in the warm sunlight. If there was a heaven, and Anne-Marie certainly hoped there was, she imagined it would be just like this.

  Minus all the work that went into it.

  When they reached the fence, Anne-Marie stopped the horse and slid deftly off her back, giving her a gentle pat.

  “Good job, girl. When we get back, there’ll be an apple with your name on it.”

  Sunshine huffed and nuzzled Anne-Marie’s face, making her laugh and take a step back.

  “Okay, okay, maybe a sugar cube, too. I suppose you deserve a proper sweet from time to time.”

  Seemingly satisfied with that, Sunshine turned away from Anne-Marie and moseyed over to a patch of fresh green grass before lowering her head and getting back to the important business of eating all day long.

  After watching Sunshine for any sign of weariness, Anne-Marie turned toward the fence and glared at it.

  “So, we meet again, coyote.”

  Kneeling down, she evaluated the line of wire that had clearly been taken down by her arch nemesis, a large coyote that took pleasure in destroying her perimeter, usually in an attempt to eat Buckle, who teased the creature relentlessly. Walking down the line, Anne-Marie sighed as she realized the sheer volume of repairs she would have to do. It would likely take up the rest of the day.

  It was times like this that Anne-Marie acutely missed her parents. For projects that would take a long time, the three of them had always banded together, each taking a portion of the fence, and would have the work done in a third of the time. Now, being totally on her own, Anne-Marie was obligated to spend time she didn’t have making constant repairs without any company but her horse.

  Reaching into her belt, she pulled out the tools she needed to make the repairs, wiped a small trickle of sweat from her brow, and set to work. She pricked her finger on a sharp part of the wire and jerked her hand back, wincing.

  “Ouch!” she hissed, bringing her finger to her mouth and tasting iron.

  The cut was small, but she made sure to clean it out with yet another little packet from her belt. Sometimes she felt like Batman with her utility belt. Her father had been sure to teach her how to make that belt as effective as possible, and the truth was, she couldn’t possibly run things without it.

  After the sting of the cut subsided a little bit, she got back to work, getting the fence back upright. She was glad she had recently gotten her tetanus shot, as the wire was beginning to rust. Anne-Marie didn’t even want to think about the cost of replacing a whole perimeter-fence worth of rusty wire, but it was something she would have to consider. When the safety of the horses was on the line, she simply had to find a way.

  The morning wore on, the sun’s heat beating onto Anne-Marie’s back as she meticulously made the repairs. Her shoulders were aching when she thought she heard the sound of cars and looked up from her work.

  In the distance, a cloud of dust was kicking up along the straight dirt road that led to the ranch. Anne-Marie wiped her glistening brow again and waited.

  Who on earth would be coming to see her?

  TWO

  The sleek black cars seemed to glide up the road, in spite of the fact that it was littered with potholes and in desperate need of fixing…much like seemingly everything else on the ranch. Anne-Marie put a hand up against her brow to block the sun and get a better look as they approached.

  Every window of every car was blacked out, making it impossible for her to see who was arriving. The line of cars stopped in front of her, and she waited with curiosity as the vehicle’s engines quietly whirred, no one visible on the inside. After a pause, the back doors of two of the cars opened and three men in sharp, tailored suits exited the vehicles.

  The first thing Anne-Marie thought was how inappropriate their attire was for the scenery. They looked like they belonged in a banking district in Houston. Instead, they were miraculously not sweating in the early afternoon heat as they approached the fence on the opposite side of her. Each of them wore sunglasses, and she stared at her bubbled reflection, unable to see
their eyes.

  “Ma’am,” one of them greeted.

  Anne-Marie couldn’t help but think about the movie The Matrix, with the evil men in suits and sunglasses trying to destroy the world. Were these such men? Either way, she hadn’t been brought up to be rude.

  “Sir,” she replied, tilting her head.

  She stood in silence, waiting to see what they wanted. In her experience, it was more useful to let others say their piece rather than trying to pry it from them. With that in mind, she crossed her arms and waited while the men stared at her. Finally, another one of the suits spoke.

  “We’re looking for Anne-Marie Benson. Do you know where we can find her?”

  Anne-Marie was taken aback by the request. Why would men in suits and expensive cars be looking for her? Were they the IRS? Did she mess up her taxes or something? Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.