by Angel James
PROPERTY OF HEARTBREAK RANCH
(PT 1)
The Rough Rider Series
By Angel James
PROPERTY OF HEARTBREAK RANCH
(PT 1)
By Angel James
© 2015 Angel James. All rights reserved.
No part of this SERIAL may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to an actual person is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Kim Van Meter
The following EPISODIC SERIAL is approximately 6,000 words and an original work of fiction. It is meant to be read in order.
My name is Dallas Walker and as of Tuesday, June 10, 6:45 p.m. I belong to Heartbreak Ranch.
Trying to save her family’s Texas farmland after her daddy foolishly bet the deed in a card game, young Dallas finds herself an unwilling player in a game where power is the only currency.
When Colter Autrie sees Dallas, the secret girl of his dreams, naked and tied, in his father’s den, he knows Ambrose has gone too far and someone has to stop him.
But now that Ambrose has Dallas, all the secret plans Colter had to leave Heartbreak Ranch behind have crumbled to dust.
He can’t leave; he can’t stay. Each choice leads to devastation.
Can Colter save Dallas before it’s too late? Or will Heartbreak Ranch end up swallowing two lives in the wake of the Autrie family secrets?
This 6,000-word installment is the first part of a serialized story and is meant to be enjoyed in order, much like an episode of your favorite television show.
My name is Dallas Walker and as of Tuesday, June 10, 6:45 p.m. I belong to Heartbreak Ranch.
More specifically, Ambrose Autrie.
The rotten son-of-a-bitch was a mean cuss, probably a half-brother to Lucifer himself but be that as it may, Ambrose owned Sutter, Texas and he made sure everyone in the pea-sized town knew it. No one went against Ambrose. Not if they wanted to keep their lives or their livelihood.
Ambrose was generous when it suited him — and ruthless when it didn’t.
Such as when he called in my daddy’s gambling debts.
Daddy was a good man but a terrible gambler. He lost more than he won but you had to give the man a gold star for not being a quitter. Except this time, what he lost was more than the grocery or the hay money — it was me.
Could’ve been worse.
Could’ve been either of my younger sisters, Abby or Killy, and I would’ve done anything to keep them from suffering at the hands of that lecherous old man so here I was — being delivered like a side of beef to the most powerful — and most feared — man in all of Sutter.
“I’ll find a way to make this right,” Daddy swore, sweat beading beneath his worn Stetson as the hot Texas sun beat down on our heads. “It’s just temporary, girl. I’ll find a way to make this right, believe you me. This ain’t setting well and and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna stand for it. I’ll go to the sheriff. Maybe give him an earful of what this old bastard is up to. It ain’t right.”
But we both knew that the sheriff was a corrupt pig of a man who wouldn’t lift a finger against Ambrose. I didn’t feel like humoring him with a hopeful smile. To be honest, I couldn’t have managed even a fake lick of hope at that point. I knew the situation was pretty much fucked for me.
The thing was, Ambrose had us by the short hairs — which was pretty much how he liked to conduct all his business in Sutter — and we were out of options. Trust me, when Daddy had come home, looking pale and drawn like someone had just whispered the date of his own death in his ear, I knew something bad was coming.
Let’s just say, I’d gotten plenty of practice with Daddy. Sometimes Daddy was just a plain fool and as my grandpappy used to say time and again, a fool and his money never stayed together for long, or as in the case of Daddy, a fool and his oldest daughter.
It seemed surreal that something so dirty could happen in the modern age but Sutter moved at a different pace than the rest of the world. Things were still done the old-fashioned way, handshake deals and going off the strength of a man’s word was something around this cracked dirt patch of land and that’s just the way it’s always been.
I tried not to cry. I wanted to be strong. I was saving the family. That’s what Daddy said. I was the only one who could do it. Abby and Killy were too young and I’d die before I’d let anything happen to them. Daddy had known that, too.
We walked into the airy, spacious ranch house that was four times the size of the old farmhouse that my family had called home for generations — an original homestead that went back to the 1800s and hadn’t been updated since the late ‘50s — and silently marveled at the wealth.
Not a surprise.
Ambrose had the greenbacks to play king and a king needed a suitable castle.
Heartbreak Ranch was a working cattle ranch but they were known for being the best at breaking in horses, the Heartbreak Rough Rider crew, was what they were called. People from around the Lone Star state brought their prized fillies and stallions to Ambrose and he charged an arm and a leg for the service.
Daddy doffed his hat, clutching it nervously in his callused hands and his boots rang on the hardwood floor as we entered a huge office, decorated with stuffed game trophies mounted on the dark walls, and there was Ambrose, sitting like a fat toad, in his stuffed leather chair.
The man in his prime might’ve been a sight to look at but time and an abundance of the good life had taken its toll. His belly hung over his silver buckle and jowls hung from his neck but even so, he managed to hold onto some muscle. He could probably still handle his own in a fight and stacked up against my daddy, he’d probably win hands down. Daddy had gotten soft in his old age, too content to live in the past with a beer in his hand, remembering when, for a brief moment in time, he’d been a rodeo star.
Things might’ve ended different for Daddy if that bull hadn’t stomped the shit out of his knee all those years ago. At least that’s what Mama had always told us before she died of cancer five years ago.
But unlike Daddy I didn’t dwell on what could’ve been. I had to focus on the here and now.
“There ya are, I thought I was going to have to send a search party for my property,” Ambrose said, his dark eyes glinting. His gaze raked over me, a slow, lecherous smile stretching his lips. “But I’m a patient man when the delivery is worth waiting for.”
“I said I’d bring her and I’m a man of my word,” Daddy said, lifting his chin even though he looked like a dog with his tail between his legs. “She’s a good girl, you gotta promise me you ain’t gonna hurt her none.”
“I ain’t promising you shit and you ain’t in no position to make demands,” Ambrose sneered. “You lost fair and square — debts are owed my establishment. I made an equitable offer and you accepted it. End of discussion.”
“You hold the deed to my land,” Daddy ground out, his grip tightening on his hat. “That land’s been in my family for generations.”
“And you shouldn’t have been so fool-ass stupid as to put your deed down as collateral at my club,” Ambrose said with a shrug.
Daddy couldn’t say nothing to that because it was true. Daddy had made some bad decisions when it came to his gambling addiction and putting down the deed to land they’d owned outright for decades was just one of many.
“I told you I was willing to work off the debt,” Daddy said, almost desperately.
“I ain’t got no ne
ed for more ranch hands and besides, what am I supposed to do with a washed-up drunk who doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose? Face it, Orland, the only thing of value you got left is your pretty daughters and I am more than happy to take this little piece of sass of your hands.” His gaze turned cunning. “I might even be of a mind to offer you a little something for the younger ones...if you were of a mind to negotiate.”
My gaze flew to Daddy’s. Don’t you dare! Abby and Killy were only fourteen and twelve!
Daddy shook his head vehemently. “Deal’s only for Dallas. She’s a woman grown. Just turned eighteen. The others...they’re too young.”
“Suit yourself. I was prepared to offer a good sum. There’s nothing more satisfying than a young, sweet thing to break in. Enough money to start new, even.”
For a horrifying moment, I feared Daddy was giving the offer some thought. Oh God. I wanted to vomit. But then he shook his head again and Ambrose gave up with an annoyed gesture.
“All right then, be on with ya. Ya brought what you was supposed to and you have what you came for so get the fuck out of my house. I’m tired of looking at your sorry face.”
Daddy looked to me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed what was left of his pride and dignity and said, “I’m sorry, Dally...I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked and he ducked his head, maybe to hide his tears and I had to look away before my daddy’s broken pride did me in.
Ambrose pulled a piece of paper — the deed, presumably — from his desk drawer and held it out to Daddy. “Deal’s a deal. Here’s your worthless deed. Gotta say, I came out smelling like a rose.”
Daddy took the deed and avoided my gaze, not that I blamed him. Hell, I wouldn’t want to look me in the eye either after what he’d done. “Be a good girl, Dally,” he mumbled as if imparting some sort of fatherly advice and then scuttled out of there.
A part of me wanted to run after him, to beg him to save me, but he’d put me in this place. Any saving wasn’t gonna be done by him.
I was shaking but I hid it fairly well. I wasn’t about to let this sack of horseshit know that I was scared spitless. What happened now?
I didn’t have long to wonder.
Ambrose regarded me for a long moment, assessing my worth like he would a filly he was looking to buy — only I’d already been bought — and then smiled, revealing a row of slightly uneven teeth but not yellow like I’d feared, saying, “Do you understand what’s happened to you, girl?”
“I’m not an idiot.”
“Smartmouthed sass gonna get your ass paddled,” he warned with a grin as if he wanted me to push buttons. The fact that he wanted me to kept me from telling him to go to hell but the desire to do so burned like acid on my tongue. “You’re a fine piece of ass from what I can tell. Take your clothes off and let me see those young tits.”
I balked, frozen. Was he joking? But judging by the hungry glint in his eye, he was dead serious. My gaze darted around the room but the two goons lounging in the room weren’t gonna help me none. If anything, if I didn’t do as I was told, they’d lend a helping hand.
As if reading my mind, Ambrose gestured to his men. “Boys, I think the lady needs a little persuading. Perhaps you could help teach the lady that she ought to do as she’s told before I have to ask twice.”
Both men were up and on me in an instant, their rough hands bruising as they ripped my shirt off and jerked my jeans to the floor. Within seconds I was naked as the day I was born, twisting in their grip, trying to desperately to cover what belonged to me but my squirms only added fuel to the fire.
Ambrose’s dark eyes gleamed. “Ahhh, yes, that’s exactly what I thought. Fine ass pussy right there. Young and fresh. And lookee there, she’s a true blonde. Nice. You never know with all the fancy dye tricks they got nowadays. There ain’t nothing like a sweet pussy like that, boys. Nothing.” He made a smacking noise and grinned then twirled his finger. “Turn her around. I want to see that ass.”Ambrose made a sound of pure approval and then added, “Better tie those hands. She seems like a wild one.”
My face heated and I wanted to die but there was no help for it. I was going to be the main entertainment and I had to get used to the idea. But how was I supposed to do that exactly? Up until three days ago when Daddy dropped his bomb, I was just a normal girl trying to hold together her little family while her dumbass Daddy was doing his level best to put them on the streets.
I had dreams of college and escaping this tiny hell-hole but with my sisters stuck behind, I knew I couldn’t leave just yet so I got a job at the hay market. I guess that’s where Ambrose first saw me.
I know that’s where I first saw his son, Colter. I mean, really saw him, because we’d actually gone to high school together but with me being a lowly freshman when he was an upper classman, he’d never known I existed and our lives really hadn’t had reason to collide.
Colter was sight for sore eyes, for sure. He was the kind of man who made a girl sit up and take notice and I wasn’t above looking. That was before I realized who he was. Whereas Ambrose was dark as the devil in hair and eyes, Colter had the eyes of an angel with hair as blond as mine. Although rich as an oil baron, Ambrose hadn’t spared his son the manual labor and it showed in the hard contours of Colter’s body. If there was an ounce of fat clinging to those hard planes, I couldn’t find it. Without mincing words, Colter was a fine ass man but contaminated by his bloodline.
Just knowing that Colter was related to Ambrose made him poison.
And speak of the devil.
Colter Autrie, handsome, rugged, and the exact opposite of his father in every way, walked into the room only to come up short at the sight of me stripped and bare like some cheap whore on display.
To his credit, he seemed taken aback by my situation. I pleaded with my eyes even though I knew it was probably useless.
Colter swung his gaze to Ambrose, demanding, “What the hell is going on?” Two high points of color rushed his face. He did his level best to keep his eyes in his head by refusing to look at me but he couldn’t help when his stare drifted against his will. “What’s she doing here?”
But Ambrose wasn’t the least bit ashamed of his actions and just laughed. “Boy, I done bought myself a present. Ain’t she pretty? Look at that tight ass. Mmmmm...can’t get much better than this.”
“You’ve gone too goddamn far this time, old man,” Colter warned, his fists balling. His voice lowered. “I know her.”
Ambrose seemed amused. “You do? Well, I’m about to know her, too.”
“I went to school with her. She was a freshman when I was a senior.”
“I wished I’d seen her sooner,” Ambrose remarked as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation. “I might’ve made her Daddy a different sort of offer.” He paused, then asked, “Did you fuck her?”
Colter stiffened, grinding out his answer. “No.”
“Too bad. She’s pretty hot.”
I’d never been so mortified to receive a compliment. My cheeks burned with humiliation and I felt as I’d fallen down a snake pit with no way out.
Colter ignored me. “What the fuck did you do to make this happen?”
“Calm down, boy, it’s all consensual. Or mostly, anyway. Ask the girl yourself. Ask why she’s here.”
Colter looked to me and I wanted to fall through the floor and hide but I wasn’t going nowhere with Ambrose’s goons holding me. “My daddy sold me to Ambrose to cancel out his debts at the card room,” I answered dully, hating the situation, hating every Autrie that had ever breathed air in this world.
“This is bullshit, Daddy,” Colter said, going to Ambrose, leaning over the desk. “This ain’t the Old West where you can do what you want. This is illegal, shit.”
“Jesus boy where’s your balls,” Ambrose groused. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re no son of mine. Too damn moral. Get off your high horse, it cricks my neck to speak to you when you’re perched up so high. Ain’t no one gonna say nothing.
I own this town and I own the law. I am the fucking law. So set yourself down and listen up. We have some discussin’ to do. Business, son.”
“What about her?” Colter gestured angrily. “At least put some fucking clothes on her.”
“And cover up that work of art? Hell no. I like to be able to gaze upon my fine purchases. Girl, come sit with me. I can multi-task.”
I struggled but those goons carried me like I weighed nothing and deposited me on the perverted old man’s lap. Colter ducked his gaze but his lips seamed as if he was holding back a river of words.
“You said it was consensual,” Colter said, keeping his stare focused on his daddy and not my boobs, for which I was thankful. “Her Daddy selling her out isn’t her choice.”
“Debts must be paid, you know that. If not this one, then well, Orland has two other daughters, who are just as pretty, but a bit younger and for some reason he seemed reluctant to bargain with them.”
“You’re a goddamn pedophile if you think it’s okay to--“
Quick as a rattlesnake strike, Ambrose slapped me hard across the face. The shock of pain silenced me as my head instantly began to throb from the impact and my cheek felt as if it were already swelling.
“Watch yourself, girl,” Ambrose warned. “I told you I don’t cotton to no sass.”
A tear slid down my face but I held myself rigid, refusing to let him see me break down and cry.
Colter tensed but remained didn’t say anything. Not that he could. Ambrose ruled with an iron fist, even with his own kid. I didn’t know Colter all that well. Like Colter had already shared, he was older than me, but we’d seen each other around town and at the hay market.
More than one girl had tried to get his attention but Colter had always remained aloof, unattainable. Now I knew why. Bringing anyone home to Ambrose was a scary prospect.
“You said you wanted to talk business,” Colter reminded him tersely. “Get to it. There’s work to be done.”
“All work and no play makes Colter a fucking dull boy,” Ambrose said, chuckling. His hand strayed to my nipple and I wanted to shriek DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME but I said nothing. Inside I cringed as he fondled my breast, testing the weight in his hand and playing with the nipple as if it were completely natural to do so with an audience. “It’s time that you take a more active role in the family legacy. Time to step into your birthright, boy.”