Cowboys & Horses
by
C J Laurence
Copyright © 2016 C J Laurence
www.cjlaurence.com
All rights reserved.
Cover Credits:
Images: Dora Gonzalez at Premades4U
Typography and effects: Lola Kyle at Booked ‘n’ Covered
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Cowboys & Horses
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
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
WHERE TO FIND C.J. LAURENCE
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Dedication
For all those people needing a heart-warming uplift for the soul, and for all those authors who are hesitant to delve into contemporary romance...
Chapter One
‘Welcome to our home—your home from home during your stay.’
I slid my fingers over the smooth, glossy brochure of the ‘Black Mustang Working Dude Ranch’. The picture of the gorgeous dark horse on the front of it brought an immediate smile to my face. I could picture it already—galloping across the wild, open plains of the Sonoran Desert, my hair lifting in the breeze as I head towards the empty horizon on my trusty steed.
“Miss, Miss? You need to leave the plane now. You’re the last passenger.”
I was brought back to reality by the sickly, sweet voice of an air hostess. She had enough make-up cemented on her face to rival any thickness of concrete. I debated whether I could actually peel it off her.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, jumping from my seat. “I was waiting for the mad rush to end.”
I tried my hardest to ignore my burning cheeks as I collected my hand luggage and headed for the door. The butterflies churning around in my stomach were making me nauseous. I’d never been on holiday on my own before, let alone thirteen hours away.
I wandered through Tucson International Airport and found my luggage on the baggage carousel going around and around on its own. I hauled it off the belt and plonked it on the white tiled floor in front of me, narrowly missing my toes.
Trying my hardest to appear cool, calm, and confident, I squared my shoulders, lifted my head up, and marched towards the entrance lobby. I hoped it masked over the flustered mess I was actually feeling right now.
Nerves had me. Badly. Why did my mum insist this idea of hers and Zoe’s was a good one? Chewing on my lip, I realised that over the course of our friendship, which had started in childhood, Zoe had always had an uncanny ability of getting me into questionable predicaments. However, when my eyes first landed on the mighty fine cowboy stood holding a board with my name on it, I mentally congratulated her on managing to best the time I’d jumped into my parent’s holly bush in a bid to escape being grounded.
This guy was hot. So hot, I couldn’t stop my instant reaction being to half-laugh, half-smile, and say, “Wow.”
Deep brown eyes glittered back at me, a quirky smile tugging at his plump pink lips. “Miss Woods?”
I almost shivered from his drawling accent. “Yes.”
He tucked the board under his arm and waited for me to approach him. My smile dissolved into a frown as my image of the handsome man coming to take my bags from me quickly evaporated.
If you wanted a definition of tall, dark, and handsome, this guy was it. Bronzed skin, jet black hair, broad shoulders, and nicely muscled arms showing through his red checked shirt—he looked like he’d just come to life from a poster.
Just as I reached him, he turned and walked towards the exit, still no offer of help for my bags, nor even a civil greeting. I would be having words with Zoe about this, that’s for sure.
He strode outside, marching towards a huge black truck, leaving the glass exit doors to shut in my face. I pushed my way through them and followed him, silently simmering at his rude behaviour. The wall of heat that hit me as I stepped outside nearly took my breath away. The scorching, dry air had beads of sweat rolling down my face within seconds.
Heading to the rear of the vehicle, I was pleasantly surprised to see he’d left the tailgate down so I could load my suitcase up. I sat my hand luggage on the baking tarmac and wrapped my arms around my giant bag. Inching it up my chest, I leaned against the rear of the truck with the intention of shimmying it up my body before then throwing it in the back.
It wasn’t working so well with sweaty palms, aching legs, and a tired body.
“You want a hand with your bags there?”
I glanced up to see he’d placed a black Stetson on his head. The shadow it cast across the sprinkling of stubble over his chin gave him the perfect rough and rugged look. The only thing that spoiled it was the arrogant smirk he was wearing.
I ground my teeth together. “No, thank you.” I bent my knees and sprung back up, lifting my suitcase at the same time, and almost breaking my chin. “I’m fine.”
A deep chuckle sounded through the air, making me even more embarrassed. Before I knew it, he’d taken my cherished possessions from my grasp and slid them into the back of his truck.
“Wouldn’t want you to break a nail,” he said, slamming the tailgate shut.
He sauntered back to the driver’s door, shaking his head. I glanced down at my hands to look at my stick-on nails. I’d had a girly night out before my long-haul flight. What was wrong with wearing pretty nails?
Grabbing my hand luggage, I headed for the passenger side and began to seriously question how on earth I was going to survive for four weeks out here when I couldn’t even lift my own luggage into the back of a truck.
THE HALF AN HOUR JOURNEY back to the ranch was silent. He cranked up his stereo with some country music whilst I mused over the brochure for the millionth time.
‘With over 3,000 acres to our ranch, take some time to reconnect with nature, and more importantly, yourself.’
An ironic twist curled the edges of my dry mouth. Did I even know who I was anymore?
/> I shut the silky pages and looked out of the window at the bleak landscape rolling by. Everything was so...sparse. The few spots of plants and vegetation here and there looked so out of place. Aside from the grey road cutting straight through the middle of the sandy environment, it looked uninhabitable. It was beautiful, but its splendour would surely match its lethality.
We finally turned off the road and headed across the dirt, clouds of dust kicking up behind us. As the sight of a wooden gateway appeared with the name of the ranch swinging on a wooden board above, excitement began to replace my nerves. This was it—this was the beginning of my little adventure.
I leaned forwards in my eagerness, impatient to see the cute Hacienda style chalet I would be staying in. To the left was almost a little village of the guest houses. Around a dozen pink bricked buildings all sat in a circle, each having its own small gravel walkway. With dark wooden doors and dark wooden frames, they were just lovely.
He swung the truck towards the quaint houses, skidded to a stop, and jumped out. I joined him outside where he was retrieving my suitcase. Sitting it on the floor, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old iron key that looked like something from a gothic vampire movie.
“You’re in number ten,” he said, pointing towards one of the larger chalets. “Do you need anything else?”
I hesitated, unsure whether it was a genuine question or not. “No, thank you.”
He touched his hat with his fingertips. “Dinner is at seven. Call the main house if you need anything.”
And just like that, he climbed back into his truck, and left me stood there.
Chapter Two
The bitter taste the hot cowboy left in my mouth soon vanished when I entered my cosy dwelling. I walked inside to gaze upon an exposed wooden beam ceiling, wicker furniture, and antique dressers. The colourful bedclothes reminded me of the padded saddle blankets they use out here. The Native American Indian feel to them intrigued me as much as the desert landscape I was surrounded by.
Turning to my bags, I took my time to unpack my life and rearrange it for the next four weeks. Four weeks. Twenty-eight days. It kept going around and around in my head. Why had I listened to Mum that two weeks wasn’t enough?
I flopped down on the soft, cool bed, and closed my sore eyes. The ceiling fans hummed away above me, circling the air with a gentle breeze gliding over my skin. For the first time in weeks, I found myself relaxing. The tension leaving my muscles felt like a dead weight being lifted.
Just as I began being lulled into the beginnings of a deep sleep, unwelcome images appeared, burning the insides of my eyelids once again. I jumped up, glancing over to the bedside cabinet at my sleeping tablets. The dream free slumber they gave me was bliss, but the chemical hangover the next day was never welcomed.
I headed for the shower. The cold water would wake me up for the few hours I needed to get through dinner.
BY THE TIME I SHOWERED, dressed, and wandered up to the main house, the delicious aroma of cooking meat filled the air. The sun was starting to hide behind the glorious mountains in the distance, taking the sweltering heat with it. Arizona in July was perhaps not my smartest move.
The main house was also a beautiful Hacienda type. Orange and yellow brickwork, dark wooden edgings, weeping trees, colourful plants, and of course, cacti, it really was quite something to behold. In front of the house was a sandy pink coloured patio area. Several wooden tables were dotted about with tall night lights scattered between them, giving the whole atmosphere the perfect twilight glow.
Chatter and laughter flowed all around, making my solo appearance less obvious. I did my best to merge into the scenery, selecting a table near the edge of the area, partially hidden by the encroaching darkness, and away from anyone else.
“Sophie!”
Friendly American drawl headed my way as John, the ranch owner, strode towards me. His bushy grey moustache combined with his carthorse built shoulders stood out a mile away.
He extended a shovel sized hand towards me before he sat down on the opposite side of the table. I shook his hand with a smile, trying to hide my pain as he crumpled my hand inside his. At least he had a proper man’s handshake.
“Nice to meet you, finally. How was your journey?”
I laughed. “Long. Thank you so much for accommodating me at such short notice.”
He waved his hand through the air. “Not a problem. We’re a helpful kind of folk. Besides, Zoe did kind of stress the importance of it.”
I blushed and glanced down, my cheeks heating up with every passing second. “She’s a good friend. I’m lucky she has such great family.”
“Ah, think nothing of it. Consider yourself part of the family.”
“Thank you,” I said, meeting his friendly gaze. “What’s with your moody cowboy by the way?”
He grinned. “I see you met Brady. Take no notice of him. He can be a little cold at first with outsiders.”
“Are you sure he’s the right sort to be working with guests and all?”
A deep laugh boomed from his chest. “Brady Lancaster is one of the finest cowboy’s you’ll ever meet. What that man can’t do on a ranch isn’t worth knowing.” He chuckled away to himself, and stood up. “Best get back to the meat before I get blamed for burning it. I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Any problems, you come see me.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Well, from what I understand, it may well be needed.” A flash of sympathy passed over his weathered face before he tipped his hat, and strode back to the grill.
I tried not to think of the problems I currently faced—Zoe being one. A huge fall out with my best friend a mere few hours before my life crashed around me was not something I wanted, or needed. We were inseparable, but our arguments could be more than volatile. Even though we weren’t on speaking terms, she had still been looking out for my welfare as soon as my mother filled her in on my situation. For that, I owed her a massive hug at least.
I looked down at my left wrist, rubbing my right hand over it as I lost myself in thought. My hair fell forwards, the wavy brown strands covering my threat of tears. I blinked several times, washing them away and burying my self-pity.
I glanced around, waiting for the crowd around John and the food to disperse before attempting to grab something to eat.
It was then I spotted him staring at me—Brady. His silhouette against the dark blue evening sky was like something from a poster. The nearby night light picked out the twinkle in his eyes, and despite our frosty interactions, I couldn’t deny he was fascinating just to look at.
He leaned back on the waist high brick wall surrounding the patio area. With his ankles crossed and supporting himself on an elbow, he looked every inch the sexy, casual guy. Lifting his burger to his mouth, he tore at it with a blasé attitude, almost as if it was only there to serve as a prop to his image.
He continued staring as I glared back at him. It was a very rare occasion I felt vulnerable, but over the last few weeks, I’d never felt more exposed in my life. Now I was thousands of miles from home, on my own, I couldn’t afford for people like him to see this weakness in me.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned forwards, resting my elbows on the table. After a couple of minutes, he finished his food, nodded in my direction, and disappeared into the house.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I came here for a holiday, a chance to relax. Over my dead body would some attitude ridden man ruin that.
Chapter Three
After managing to scavenge the last of the burgers off the barbeque, I crept back to my chalet without having to socialise. I took a full dose of my sleeping tablets instead of the usual half, and slept like a log. No nightmares haunted me which was welcomed with open arms.
When I finally awoke to the annoying screech of my phone alarm, I was amazed to see it had been blaring at me for nearly ten minutes. Usually, I’m awake before it even goes off.
With the drea
ded foggy head from the tablets, I wrapped my dressing gown around me and shuffled towards the shower. I’d just stepped inside the bathroom when a sharp knock sounded through the door.
Who on earth is that at seven am?
I grumbled to myself as I trundled over to the early morning disturbance with the beginnings of a headache knocking on my skull. Pulling the door open, I couldn’t help my surprise at seeing Brady leaning against the wall. One leg crossed in front of the other, hat on, arms over his chest—he was a pleasant sight first thing.
“Morning, Miss Woods. Just checking you were up.”
I frowned. “I have an alarm for that job, thank you.”
One of his dark eyebrows raised and he quirked his lips into a playful smile. “We have quite an itinerary today, Miss. I didn’t want you to be late.”
I raised my eyebrows back at him and folded my arms in front of me. “I’m never late, but thanks for your concern.”
“Just trying to help.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I know you city girls aren’t too fond of the way we work out here.”
“I’m not a ‘city girl’ as you put it, but thanks for the label, cowboy.”
He grinned and pushed himself away from the wall. “Every woman loves a cowboy, Miss.”
“I prefer men, thank you. See you later.”
Feeling triumphant considering my hazy head, I pushed the door shut. I tried to calm my rising anger as I showered. I wasn’t going to let him get under my skin. How dare he think he had me all figured out?
I pushed him to the back of my mind as I made my way up to the main house for breakfast. Thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen. I munched my way through a stack of Belgian waffles before downing a glass of orange juice.
“Morning, Sophie. Sleep well?”
I looked up to see John striding into the kitchen. “Yes, thank you.”
He grabbed a plate of pancakes before settling opposite me. “I’ve put you on the itinerary for today and tomorrow. I know you can ride, but it has been a while, and for legal reasons, we still need to assess your riding skill ourselves.”
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