Guardian Cowboy

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Guardian Cowboy Page 1

by Carla Cassidy




  A lone wolf cowboy comes to the rescue

  But can he outwit a deadly stalker?

  Sawyer Quincy unexpectedly awakes in a stranger’s bed and is mortified. The rancher wants to get to know Janis Little, but threatening notes, slashed tires and gunshots warn him to stay away. Despite the danger surrounding them both, Sawyer falls hard and means to protect her at all costs. When Janis suddenly disappears, Sawyer puts it all on the line to save her.

  She had no idea how much time passed when a knock fell on her door.

  Suddenly thinking about her secret admirer, a chill washed over her. She got out of bed and padded to the door, wondering if she should open it or not.

  Another knock sounded. “Janis, are you there? It’s me.”

  Relief, along with a little surprise, winged through her at the sound of Sawyer’s deep voice. She opened the door and motioned him inside.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “A gentleman always sees that his date gets home safely,” he replied.

  Warmth swept into her heart. “I’m assuming your truck is now sporting a new tire?”

  “Yeah, and I’m taking it in tomorrow to get another new one on the other side. But I don’t want to talk about that. It’s obvious you’re ready for bed and I don’t want to keep you. I just thought we needed to end the date on a more appropriate note.”

  “An appropriate note?”

  He pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips plied hers with a heat that usurped any chill she might have felt when he first knocked.

  * * *

  Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting miniseries:

  Cowboys of Holiday Ranch—Where sun, earth and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys...and irresistible heroes!

  * * *

  If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense

  Dear Reader,

  What does it take to fall in love with a drunken cowboy? As a bar waitress, Janis Little has seen more than her share of silly and obnoxious drunks, but there’s one cowboy in particular who makes her heart dance each time she sees him.

  Sawyer Quincy’s copper-colored eyes and ready, warm smile attract her like no man has in many years. It doesn’t hurt that his jeans ride low on his slim hips and his broad shoulders look like they could carry a woman to her happily-ever-after. He comes into the bar every Saturday night with his fellow ranch hands and drinks two or three beers and then quietly passes out in the booth.

  Sawyer really doesn’t have a drinking problem, but when he wakes up one morning in Janis’s bed after passing out in the booth, he definitely has a woman problem. What begins as a fun joke quickly spirals out of control when it becomes known that somebody wants Janis all to himself.

  I hope you all love these two as much as I did while writing the book. There’s something quite charming about an easygoing cowboy with a little bit of dust on his boots. If Janis can face some inner demons that have tormented her and she and Sawyer can survive a deadly stalker, then maybe...just maybe he can carry her into a happily-ever-after!

  Hope you enjoy and keep reading!

  Carla Cassidy

  GUARDIAN COWBOY

  Carla Cassidy

  Carla Cassidy is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than 120 novels for Harlequin. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.

  Books by Carla Cassidy

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  Cowboys of Holiday Ranch

  A Real Cowboy

  Cowboy of Interest

  Cowboy Under Fire

  Cowboy at Arms

  Operation Cowboy Daddy

  Killer Cowboy

  Sheltered by the Cowboy

  Guardian Cowboy

  The Coltons of Shadow Creek

  Colton’s Secret Son

  The Coltons of Texas

  Colton Cowboy Hideout

  The Coltons of Oklahoma

  The Colton Bodyguard

  Men of Wolf Creek

  Cold Case, Hot Accomplice

  Lethal Lawman

  Lone Wolf Standing

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Her Mission with a SEAL by Cindy Dees

  Chapter 1

  “If one of those cowboys from the Humes’s ranch strokes my butt one more time, I’m going to toss a drink over somebody’s head,” Janis Little exclaimed to fellow Watering Hole waitress, Annie Holbrook, as they both reached the polished bar that stretched almost wall-to-wall along the side of the popular nightspot.

  Annie grinned at her. “I double-dog dare you,” she said, her dark eyes snapping with mischief. “Stroking butts is the only way those men can convince themselves they have any kind of a romantic relationship with a woman. I triple-dog dare you.”

  Janis laughed as the bartender, Tanner Woodson, approached them. “Ladies, talk to me,” he said.

  “Three draft beers,” Annie said.

  Janis gave him the orders for her tables and he stepped away to prepare the drinks.

  “He is so hot,” Annie whispered to Janis.

  Tanner was not only new to the town of Bitterroot, Oklahoma, but tonight was only his third night on the job.

  So far, as manager of the bar, Janis was impressed with him. He was friendly with the patrons but not overly so. He was quick and efficient, and when he had a moment to rest, he didn’t. Instead he wiped down the bar, cleaned glasses and restocked the lemons and limes and olives that topped the drinks.

  “Janis, did you hear what I said?” Annie poked Janis in the rib with her elbow.

  “Yeah, he’s okay,” she replied.

  “Okay? He’s got the dreamiest blue eyes and that beautiful dark hair, and enough chest muscles to make a girl feel safe if she was in his arms.”

  “You’re practically on the verge of drooling,” Janis said dryly.

  “You’d drool, too, if you weren’t already hung up on that sexy Holiday Ranch cowboy who can’t hold his drinks.”

  “I’m not hung up on anyone,” Janis replied even as she felt her cheeks warm with a blush.

  Thankfully, at that moment, Tanner returned with their drinks. The Watering Hole was the place for singles and dating couples to hang out and this evening it was hopping with the usual Saturday night crowd.

  There was definitely one of the Holiday Ranch cowboys who made Janis’s heart lift just a little bit whenever she saw him, but those men had yet to arrive for their ritual Saturday night of drinking and blowing off steam.

  Right now she was stuck serving the Humes’s ranch men, who seemed to live for the chance to make everyone else’s life miserable. “Here we are,” she said as she reached their table. She’d never met a group of more odious men.

  “About
time,” Zeke Osmond said and then offered up a smarmy smile. “But I’ll forgive you for taking so long if you give me a little kiss.”

  “Sorry, Zeke, I’m not allowed to kiss the customers.”

  It took her only a minute to serve the beers to Shep Harmon and Ace Sanders. Lloyd Green, the oldest of them all, got a Scotch on the rocks. As she bent over to place the drink in front of him, Zeke grabbed her butt.

  She whirled around to face him, grabbed his beer from her tray and, with a pretend trip, poured every single drop into his lap.

  “What the hell!” he shouted and jumped up out of his chair.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she replied.

  Lloyd guffawed. “Looks like you done peed your pants, Zeke.” The rest of the men at the table hooted with laughter.

  “You did that on purpose.” Zeke’s dark eyes glittered with anger.

  “It was an accident,” she replied. “I’ll go get you a bar towel so you can clean yourself up. I’ll be right back.”

  As she headed to the bar, she shot a quick glance across the room. Annie grinned at her and flashed a quick thumbs-up sign.

  It had been a highly unprofessional thing to do, but she wasn’t sorry. She would do it again in a minute. She was tired of the Humes’s men, and Zeke Osmond in particular, acting like it was their right to touch her body intimately.

  “Tanner, can I get a clean towel?” she asked the bartender.

  He reached down to a shelf under the bar and handed one to her. “Was that an accidentally-on-purpose move?” His blue eyes twinkled knowingly.

  “I plead the fifth,” she replied with a laugh.

  She returned to the table and handed Zeke the towel. He was still standing, cursing and raving about her spilling the drink on purpose.

  “Sit down and shut up already,” Lloyd growled at him. “You’re starting to give me a damned headache.”

  Zeke obeyed, settling back into his chair with the towel in his lap and a glare at Janis. She ignored him and moved on to check on her other patrons.

  At seven thirty the band began to play and people hit the wooden dance floor. The Croakin’ Frogs, a local band, played every Saturday night. The rest of the nights the jukebox kept peoples’ toes tapping.

  It was just before eight when the men from the Holiday Ranch arrived. Although about a dozen worked on the ranch, only six came in the door, and one in particular made Janis’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

  Sawyer Quincy. He had ginger-colored hair and copper-hued eyes. His shoulders were broad enough to carry a woman into happily-ever-after and his jeans rode a little low on his slim hips. She’d had a silly crush on him for years.

  The men greeted people as they wove their way through the crowded bar and settled in at one of the large booths in her section. As usual, Sawyer took the position in the corner of the booth where, before the night was over, he would slump down in a beer-induced unconsciousness. That man definitely shouldn’t be drinking.

  She approached the booth with her usual smile and her order pad ready.

  “Ah, if it isn’t our favorite waitress,” Sawyer said. Although his smile made her feel like they shared something special, that was just the warmth he offered everyone with his gorgeous grins.

  “And if it isn’t my favorite group of men to wait on,” she replied.

  The Watering Hole served the usual bar fare like deep-fried pickles and mozzarella sticks, but the menu also offered up a variety of burgers and sandwiches. Within minutes, Janis had their drink and food orders and was headed to the kitchen to turn in her ticket.

  She then served their drinks and returned to the kitchen to pick up their food.

  “Busy night,” Charlie Williams, the head cook, said to her.

  “Saturday nights are always busy,” she replied. “Maybe it would cut down on traffic if you didn’t serve your famous pulled pork every Saturday.”

  “But then I wouldn’t be worshipped as the barbecue king of Bitterroot,” he joked and then sobered. “Still, tonight it seems like everyone in the place wants to eat.” He looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Rusty, don’t burn those fries.” Charlie rolled his eyes at Janis and disappeared from the pass-through window.

  As she waited, her gaze went across the room to Sawyer. He was laughing at something somebody had said. Even though right now she was too far away to actually hear him, she knew his laughter sounded like a deep, sexy melody.

  She released a sigh. It was a silly crush because it was obvious Sawyer didn’t look at her that way. She was Janis the waitress, just like Larry the mailman or Betty the bank clerk. He didn’t really see her beyond her working role here in the bar.

  “Janis, order up,” Charlie called.

  She grabbed one of the bigger food trays, loaded it with the cowboys’ orders, and then went back to the booth to serve them.

  The rest of the night passed like they all did. She served drinks and food, made lively chatter when necessary and pocketed the tips to add to the stash she hoped would one day be enough for a down payment on a nice little house.

  For more years than she could count, she’d been living in the bar’s back room. When Gary Runyon, the owner of the bar, had offered her not only a job but the opportunity to live rent-free in the bar’s back room, she’d been thrilled. Before that, she’d been bunking with friends whenever possible and far too often sleeping in her car.

  But she was soon going to be thirty years old and, while she loved what she did, she definitely wanted to make some changes in her life.

  It was almost one in the morning when the place began to empty out, although the official closing time was two. As she approached the booth with the men from the Holiday Ranch, she saw that Sawyer was in his usual slumped position and totally out to the world.

  She handed Flint McCay the tab for the table and shook her head ruefully. “I don’t know why that man drinks.”

  “He’s definitely a lightweight,” Clay Madison said, his blond hair gleaming in the light overhead.

  “And if I remember right, it’s your turn to take him home,” Mac McBride said to Clay.

  “No way, I took him in my truck last Saturday night,” Clay protested.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it isn’t my turn,” Mac replied with a huff.

  As the men argued about who would take the passed-out cowboy home and put him to bed, a plan quickly formulated in Janis’s head.

  You can’t do that, a little voice whispered. It would be too wicked. It’s a totally crazy idea.

  But maybe it would prove a point with Sawyer. Maybe it would be exactly what he needed.

  “Why don’t you all carry him into the back room and put him in my bed?” she said before she could second-guess herself.

  “For real?” Clay’s blue eyes stared at her in surprise.

  “For real,” she replied. “I’d sure like to make him see that he’s got a problem with his drinking. Maybe if he thinks he flirted with me all night and then wound up in my bed, he’ll think twice about drinking himself into a stupor again.”

  “It’s a great idea,” Flint replied.

  “A totally awesome idea,” Clay agreed with a laugh.

  Minutes later, the men had settled their tab and Sawyer had been carried into the back room Janis called home. The big, tall, cowboy didn’t even blink an eye as they laid him in the middle of her lavender sheets.

  Clay tossed Sawyer’s brown hat onto one of the wooden posts of the four-poster bed.

  “I’ll see to it that he gets home in the morning,” she said. “And this will be our little secret, at least for a day or two.”

  “Absolutely,” Clay replied, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. “We won’t say a word until you tell him the truth.”

  As they walked out into the bar area, regret instantly filled the back of her throat. Who did she think she was?
Who was she to teach Sawyer Quincy any kind of a lesson?

  Still, she hated the way the others made fun of him. From everything she’d heard, and from her own experience, she knew he was a terrific guy.

  She suspected he had some kind of allergy to something in beer. There was nothing else to explain the fact that after two or three beers he completely passed out to the world.

  Now it was too late to halt what she’d already put in motion. All the men had left and Sawyer was in her bed.

  It was just after two when she locked up the bar for the night and returned to her room to discover that he hadn’t moved an inch.

  It was a vision out of her wildest fantasies...only, in her fantasies, he was always conscious and gazing at her with adoring eyes.

  She grabbed a nightgown out of one of her dresser drawers and headed into the small bathroom for a quick shower.

  When she re-entered the bedroom, she knew exactly what she was going to do. It was definitely wicked—it was totally naughty—but she hoped to prove a point and, in doing so, she had to make it all look as real as possible.

  She stood next to the bed and stared down at him. He had rugged features. His face was suntanned from the outside work he did and yet the fine lines that feathered outward from the corners of his eyes were definitely laugh lines. His eyelashes were thick and long, and a hint of whiskers darkened his lower, strong jaw.

  Her gaze swept across his broad shoulders beneath his brown-plaid, button-up shirt. “In for a penny,” she whispered to herself and then leaned over to unbutton his shirt.

  She had it unfastened and had managed to maneuver one of his arms out of the sleeve when he mumbled something unintelligible.

  She froze, her heart thumping madly. He immediately quieted again. She waited a minute and then drew in a deep breath and rolled him over to get the other arm out of the shirt.

  She eyed the buttons on his jeans. Dare she? She had to. The only way this would really work was if he was out of his jeans.

  Carefully, she unfastened them, thankful to see that he was wearing black briefs or boxers beneath. As she started to work the jeans down his body, he raised his hips to aid her.

 
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