CRITICS ARE RAVING ABOUT
LEIGH GREENWOOD!
“Leigh Greenwood continues to be a shining star of the genre!”
—The Literary Times
“Leigh Greenwood remains one of the forces to be reckoned with in the Americana romance subgenre.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Greenwood’s books are bound to become classics.”
—Rendezvous
“Leigh Greenwood NEVER disappoints. The characters are finely drawn . . . always, always, a guaranteed good read!”
—Heartland Critiques
A TEXAN’S HONOR
“A delightful addition to the Cowboys series . . . Greenwood brings readers straight into the heart of the west and into his likable characters’ lives with a charming, fast-paced and enjoyable read.”
—RT BOOKreviews
THE MAVERICKS
“Fans of Greenwood’s Cowboys series will be delighted with this latest installment. He delivers an action-packed story filled with tender moments.”
—Fresh Fiction
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE
“Leigh Greenwood always provides one of the year’s best Western romances, but his latest tale may be the best in an illustrious career. . . . Once again Mr. Greenwood will have one of the subgenre top guns of 2005.”
—Harriet Klausner
THE INDEPENDENT BRIDE
“Leigh Greenwood unfolds his Westerns like an artist. . . . Like his other books, The Independent Bride should be placed among the Western classics.”
—Rendezvous
HIGH PRAISE FOR
THE COWBOYS SERIES!
JAKE
“Only a master craftsman can create so many strong characters and keep them completely individualized.”
—Rendezvous
WARD
“Few authors write with the fervor of Leigh Greenwood. Once again [Greenwood] has created a tale well worth opening again and again!”
—Heartland Critiques
BUCK
“Buck is a wonderful Americana Romance!”
—Affaire de Coeur
CHET
“Chet has it all! Romance and rustlers, gunfighters and greed . . . romance doesn’t get any better than this!”
—The Literary Times
SEAN
“This book rivals the best this author has written so far, and readers will want to make space on their keeper shelves for Sean. Western romance at its finest!”
—The Literary Times
PETE
“Pete is another stroke on Leigh Greenwood’s colorful canvas of the Old West. The plotting is brilliant and the conflict strong.”
—Rendezvous
DREW
“Sexual tension and endless conflict make for a fast-paced adventure readers will long remember.”
—Rendezvous
LUKE
“Another winner by Leigh Greenwood!”
—Romantic Times
A LITTLE HEATSTROKE
“Howdy, ma’am,” the man said with a smile that practically obliterated the sunset. “I’m Will Haskins.”
She knew he was real, but no man could look like that. It simply wasn’t possible.
“I’m here to see about buying your bull,” he said when she didn’t respond.
How could she think about anything as mundane as selling a bull when she couldn’t breathe?
“You did get my letter, didn’t you? Did I get the day wrong? Isabelle says I never can keep things straight.”
She had to think, to speak, to do something besides stand there staring at him like she was a stuffed dummy.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “I saw you out next to the hog pen when I rode up. Maybe you were in the heat too long.”
“I am feeling a little dizzy.” She was feeling so weak she was about to faint.
“Maybe you’d better sit down,” he said, eying their small parlor. “Would you like some water?”
She had to get control of herself. She wasn’t a silly girl who would fall speechless at the sight of a handsome man. Instead she was twenty, a woman of experience. There was no reason for her to act like a brainless ninny just because this man was twice as good looking as she’d ever thought possible.
Other books by Leigh Greenwood:
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE
THE INDEPENDENT BRIDE
COLORADO BRIDE
REBEL ENCHANTRESS
SCARLET SUNSET, SILVER NIGHTS
THE CAPTAIN’S CARESS
ARIZONA EMBRACE
SEDUCTIVE WAGER
SWEET TEMPTATION
WICKED WYOMING NIGHTS
WYOMING WILDFIRE
The Night Riders series:
TEXAS HOMECOMING
TEXAS BRIDE
BORN TO LOVE
The Cowboys series:
JAKE
WARD
BUCK
DREW
SEAN
CHET
MATT
PETE
LUKE
THE MAVERICKS
A TEXAN’S HONOR
The Seven Brides series:
ROSE
FERN
IRIS
LAUREL
DAISY
LEIGH GREENWOOD
Texas Tender
DORCHESTER PUBLISHING
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2007 by Leigh Greenwood
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Trade ISBN: 978-1-4285-1700-4
E-book ISBN: 978-1-4285-1669-1
First Dorchester Publishing, Co., Inc. edition: January 2007
The “DP” logo is the property of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Visit us online at www.dorchesterpub.com.
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
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Epilogue
Texas Tender
Chapter One
Central Texas, 1886
Will Haskins slowed his mount to a walk as he approached the town of Dunmore. Most people would have said the small cluster of buildings bunched close together on the flat Texas plain was a poor excuse for a town. But to a man familiar with the tiny communities that dotted the Hill Country, it was just the right size—big e
nough to offer a choice of places to eat, drink, and entertain himself, but not so big he’d get lost on his way back to his hotel.
The grass-covered prairie soon changed to soft ground cut up by the hooves of hundreds of horses and the wheels of dozens of wagons and buggies. Will headed his horse toward the main street that bisected the town in a clean, straight line. Flies buzzed around horse droppings, a yellow dog lounging in the shade under a porch yawned sluggishly, and the few people out and about moved slowly because of the heat. Summer in central Texas could be downright brutal. Will was looking forward to finding a saloon or gambling establishment. Not that he gambled. Everyone agreed he wasn’t stupid. Unfortunately, they all thought he was as shiftless as that yellow dog.
There was a reason he’d allowed himself to be saddled with such a reputation, but Will hadn’t successfully explained it to anyone yet, not even his brother. His feelings of frustration, however, had continued to climb. Hell, he was twenty-eight. He might be the baby of the family, but he had been a grown man for ten years.
A young mother and her son caught his attention. While the young woman walked sedately along the edge of the beaten path, her son and his small dog dashed from one side of the street to the other—the boy throwing a stick, the dog catching it, and the boy chasing the dog to pry the stick away so he could throw it again. Will was so caught up in watching the play that he nearly didn’t notice the sound of a horse approaching at a gallop. The boy ran to the protection of his mother, but the little brown-haired mongrel dog—thinking he was finally going to be allowed to keep the stick he’d chased so often—gamboled down the middle of the street, directly into the path of the horse and rider.
With no time to shout a warning or an explanation, Will dug his heels into his mount’s sides. The powerful quarter horse was in a full gallop three jumps later. Despite being headed for a collision with the oncoming rider, Will didn’t alter his course. Knowing he couldn’t scoop up the dog without falling out of the saddle, he planned to put himself between the dog and the oncoming rider before the rider reached the dog, which had crouched down, frozen in fright at the sight of two horses hurtling toward him.
The two riders came together with the grunt of colliding horses, the squeak of leather, and curses from the other man, but Will’s powerful quarter horse held his own against the tall, leggy bay gelding.
“What the hell do you mean by riding into me?” the other rider shouted. “Are you blind or just stupid?”
“Only a fool gallops a horse in town. Didn’t you see that dog?” The little dog had recovered its courage and was scampering toward its owner.
“Nobody calls me a fool and gets away with it!” The man struggled to get his horse under control so he could draw his gun. By the time he had a hand free, Will was sitting calmly on his obedient mount, his rifle pointed at the man’s belly.
“I don’t think you want to do that,” Will said quietly. “You might hit somebody by mistake.”
The young man clearly hadn’t bothered to notice that the woman and her son were in the direct line of fire. He stared at the rifle, rage twisting his handsome face into an ugly mask. “Get out of town,” he growled. “If I find you in my way again, you might not be so lucky.”
Uncowed by the young man’s threat, Will replied, “I doubt there’ll be any need to depend on luck.”
Losing the struggle to control his horse, the man put him into a canter and headed toward the center of town. Will sheathed his rifle and rode over to the woman and her son.
Still in shock, the woman finally managed to pull herself together with a visible effort. “Thank you for saving Pepper,” she said. “Lonnie would have been heartbroken if he had been killed.”
Will dismounted and held out his hand to the little dog, who looked like a scruffy mongrel cross between a terrier and some kind of hound. Pepper dropped his stick and crawled over to Will, his tail wagging feverishly.
“You need to teach him to stay out of the way of horses,” Will said to Lonnie.
“I shouldn’t have let him play in the road.” His mother still looked stunned.
“The young man shouldn’t have been riding so fast in town.”
“Van does what he wants. Nobody can stop him.”
“Who is this Van, and why doesn’t anyone stop him?”
“His father, Frank Sonnenberg, owns the second largest ranch in this area. Van thinks he can do anything he wants, and we don’t have a sheriff to tell him different.”
The little boy looked up at Will. “Who are you?”
“Lonnie, that’s rude!” his mother said.
Will smiled as he mussed the boy’s hair. Who was he? Hell, he didn’t know. “My name is Will Haskins. I guess you could say I’m a cowboy.”
“Mama says cowboys are mean.”
His mother blushed, and Will couldn’t repress a smile. “If Van is the only example you have, I can see why she thinks so.”
“You’re nice. You didn’t let Van hurt Pepper.”
“Just make sure he stays out of the road. Now, ma’am,” he said turning to the woman, “where can I find a place to get out of the sun and have a drink?”
“We only have one respectable saloon,” she said, frowning in disapproval. “The Swinging Door is just past the Gaiety Theater on the right. Come on, Lonnie. We ought to be getting home.”
“Sorry, but I didn’t catch your name,” Will said.
She blushed again. “I don’t know what happened to my manners. My name is Dorabelle Severns. My husband, Lloyd, is president of the bank.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Severns,” Will said. “I hope every lady in Dunmore is as nice and pretty as you are.”
Dorabelle turned pink with pleasure. She turned crimson when Lonnie announced, “My daddy says Mama is beautiful.”
“Your daddy is right,” Will said as he mounted up. “And you’re a handsome young man. I hope to see you again.”
He tipped his hat and headed toward the center of town. He was less than pleased when he saw Van’s bay gelding hitched in front of the Swinging Door. He’d had more than enough of that young man. He wanted to relax a bit before heading out to Idalou Ellsworth’s ranch to buy the bull she had for sale.
He pulled up in front of the saloon, dismounted, hitched his horse, and walked through the swinging doors.
After squinting against the blazing sun for the last two hours, he felt as if he were entering a cave. By the time his eyes had adjusted, everybody in the saloon was staring at him. He guessed they didn’t get many strangers in Dunmore. The saloon was large, roomy, and busy for so early in the afternoon. At least a dozen men had bellied up to the polished walnut bar, each with one foot resting on the brass foot rail. Three large mirrors set in a heavily carved walnut frame backed the bar and reflected the dim light from six kerosene lamps hanging from the ceiling. Will stepped up to the bar. “I’ll have a beer if you don’t mind,” he told the bartender.
“You’re new in town,” the bartender said as he drew a beer from a keg behind the bar.
“Just rode in,” Will said. “Glad to get out of the sun.”
“Been hotter than hell all week,” the bartender said.
Will slapped his money down, picked up his beer, and was about to take a sip when a hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around.
His beer went sailing off between two tables to splash against the pant legs of the men sitting there. Will’s right arm blocked the punch aimed at his jaw, while his left connected solidly with Van Sonnenberg’s angry face. Before the young man could recover, Will landed a punch in his midriff and an uppercut to the jaw that lifted Van off the floor. Staggering back, Van fell into the table behind him.
Will straightened his vest and readjusted his coat. “Never try to sneak up on a man who’s looking in a mirror.” He turned back to the bartender. “I guess I need another beer. I’ll pay for the first.”
“Forget it,” the bartender said, grinning at Van, who was having trouble finding
his feet. “It was worth it to see somebody stand up to that brat.”
“I guess his mama didn’t teach him manners.”
“His mama died when he was a little kid, and his daddy thinks he can do no wrong.”
“I never met his daddy, but running down little dogs is wrong in my book.”
“He kill somebody’s dog?” One of the men at the table asked as he pushed Van away and got to his feet.
“He would have if I hadn’t gotten in his way. Didn’t apologize to Lonnie or his mother, either.”
“You tried to run over Pepper?” the man demanded, turning to Van.
“How am I supposed to see anything that small?” Losing a fight he’d started hadn’t improved Van’s mood. “I’d be ashamed to have a dog that looked like that.” He directed a hate-filled glare at Will. “I’m not done with you.”
Will looked him straight in the eye. “Didn’t I hit you hard enough?”
The laughter and grins all around made Van so mad Will thought for a moment he might go for his gun. Instead, he turned and stormed out of the saloon.
“Watch your back,” the bartender said to Will as he handed him his second beer. One of the customers handed him the unbroken glass. The spilled beer had already begun to soak into the soft wood of the floor.
“I’m Andy Davis,” the man said to Will. “I own the mercantile here in Dunmore.”
“Will Haskins. Glad to meet you.”
“You passing through or planning to settle?” Andy asked.
“Just here to do a little business.” Will took a swallow of beer. It wasn’t too bad, but he’d certainly had better.
“Do you mind if I ask you what business that is?”
Just about anybody else in the Maxwell clan would have minded a lot, but Will figured everybody would soon know what he was doing here.
“I’m on my way to the Double-L ranch to talk to Miss Idalou Ellsworth about buying her bull.”
Andy grinned broadly. “You better give him straight whiskey,” he said turning to the bartender. “He’s going to need something stronger than beer if he means to tangle with Idalou.”
“What do you mean, you can’t find the bull?” Idalou demanded of her brother. “Mr. Haskins is coming to look at him today.”
Texas Tender Page 1