by Clara Moore
To her surprise, Tristan shrugged again. “I don’t care,” he confirmed.
Sharee stared at him. It took a few moments for her to process that information. “What do you mean, you don’t care?”
“Look at this place, Sharee.” Tristan embraced the room around them with a gesture. “I’ve done very well. I could live off royalties alone.”
“I thought that was never the point with you.”
“Maybe it’s the point now. Maybe this is my last book.”
“What?”
“Look, I don’t know, all right?” Tristan finally snapped, his own frustration showing. “I’m going through some things, and I need my books to be dark in order to vent them out. If you and Derek and the whole fucking world don’t like it, then so be it. It’s not my problem.”
“It is your problem!” Sharee argued, incredulous. “Do you really want to throw it all away?”
“I want to write in peace!” he all but roared.
Sharee blinked. She stared at him, stunned by the rage she could feel radiating off of him.
“What’s it to you, anyway?” Tristan asked after a few moments of dumbfounded silence.
“What’s it to me?” Sharee repeated. She felt like this conversation was rapidly and inexorably getting out of hand. “I care about you,” she said honestly. “That’s what it is to me.”
“You care about me. That’s nice.” Tristan snorted. “I fucking love you.”
Sharee looked at him. She watched as the realization of what he had just said washed over him. His eyes widened and his skin paled. He looked like the proverbial deer caught in the highlights.
“I…” Sharee tried to talk. Her voice wouldn’t come. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
Tristan swallowed visibly. “I think you should go,” he said after a moment.
“What?”
“Go home for the day. I think we both need to take a beat.”
“I don’t want to take a beat. I want to understand just what the hell is going on here.” There was no heat in Sharee’s voice, just utter shock.
Tristan sighed. He looked very tired all of a sudden. “Please, darlin’. Please, just leave for the day. We’ll talk more tomorrow, I promise.”
Sharee didn’t have the heart to push him any further. Besides, she was starting to feel like pressing the “pause” button on this conversation was actually a good idea. She nodded and stood. Five minutes later, she was climbing into her car and driving away in the rain, leaving the cottage on the edge of the forest in her rearview mirror.
***
End of the sample, you can read the rest of the book by clicking on the cover or by going to this link.
Protected and Taken by the Alpha Cowboy
By: C. J. Rivers
There were fifteen pickup trucks parked in front of Loma Rita’s tiny town hall. It had been a long time since any of those trucks had seen a dealer’s showroom. They were dented and scratched from long years of working in South Texas. There was scraps of hay and gravel in nearly every bed; a few had lost their tailgates.
The cowboys standing in a cluster near these trucks didn’t look much better. Years spent in the saddle had turned their skin leathery-brown; most had a perpetual squint lurking in the shadows underneath their Stetsons. They wore blue jeans that had seen much better days and faded t-shirts.
“It’s just bullshit, that’s what it is,” Millet Baynard proclaimed. He was one of the bigger cowboys, although far from the brightest. His t-shirt proclaimed his Longhorn pride. He was known in town for his ability to flatten beer cans against his forehead; his record was sixty cans smashed in a single minute. “Who cares about frikkin’ bats, anyway?”
“They’re an endangered species,” Danny Russell, tall, soft-spoken, and acting chair of the town board sighed. “That means the feds have got their nose in it, and there’s really nothing we can do.” He looked slowly around the assembled crowd, making sure to catch each cowboy’s eye in turn. “Roger can spend years appealing this decision, but the law is what the law is. They’re not going to let him develop anything down there. It’s all protected land.”
“As long as the bats are there,” Millet countered. He shrugged his sloping shoulders. “If they decide they want to nest somewhere else, then Roger will be able to build.” His nod was emphatic. “That would mean jobs for all of us. Good jobs.”
“If you mess with them bats, Millet, your ass is going to wind up in jail.” Danny’s best friend, Jorge, had recently retired from the Sherriff’s department. He knew Millet very well. “And it won’t be a weekend in the drunk tank. The feds take this environmental protection thing seriously. Are you really willing to spend five years inside on Roger’s say so?”
Before Millet could answer, a red Mazda 626 pulled up in front of the town hall. Every head turned to watch the door open. Janelle Washington had been sent by the Fish and Wildlife Service to represent the government’s side in the forthcoming debate. No one in Loma Rita had met her before, but more than a few sets of eyes widened appreciably at the sight of her lush, curvy form.
“Gentlemen,” Janelle said with a smile. “I assume you’re all here relevant to the Wilson appeal?” A few cowboys nodded, but no one said anything. Janelle flipped her long braids back over her shoulder, and adjusted her grip on her briefcase. “Well, then, let’s go in and get started.”
She stood back, allowing the assembled cowboys to lead the way. Danny Russell hung back as well, taking the moment to introduce himself. “I’m afraid Roger Wilson isn’t here yet,” he said, “so we may have some waiting to do.”
“Perhaps he realized it’s a lost cause,” Janelle said. “and decided to bail on us.”
“If that’s the case, you’ve driven a long way for nothing,” Danny said. He took a long moment to enjoy looking at Janelle. She was nearly as tall as him, with quick brown eyes and caramel colored skin. Her blue blouse and business slacks weren’t designed to be sexy, but they clung to her curves in all the right places. The three inch heels she was wearing didn’t hurt matters, and he noticed there was no wedding ring on her hand.
She noticed his interest and smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t stay for nothing,” she replied. “Meeting you has been a pleasure. Tell me about yourself. You work on one of the local ranches?”
Danny nodded. “I’m with the Lost King, just on the other side of town here.” He was about to tell Janelle about the outfit when Roger Wilson came squealing into the parking lot, sending gravel flying every which way with his arrival.
Janelle winced, moving to avoid the flying stones. Roger stopped his truck less than a foot from her, and flung his door open. “So you’re who the government sent down to tell me I have no rights to my own land?” he sneered at her. He turned toward Danny. “I assume you’ve told the lady we’ve got more important things to worry about than where some stupid-ass bats decide to bed down at night.”
Danny sighed. “We haven’t discussed anything yet, Roger, because we were waiting for you.” He squared his shoulders. “There’s a proper way to handle things like this, and that’s how we’re going to do them.” He turned toward Janelle and extended his arm, ushering her into the town hall. “After you, Ma’am.”
“Oh, great,” Roger said, in a loud, mocking tone. “I can see how this is going to go already.” His voice dropped, but not so low Janelle couldn’t hear it. “Calling a porch monkey Ma’am, Danny? You got a hankering for dark meat or what?”
Janelle’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn around. She just kept walking forward into the hall. Danny, however, did stop. He turned on one heel to face Roger. “If you can’t stop yourself from being an asshole, we don’t need to have this meeting at all.”
“I know my rights!” Roger protested. “We’ve still got freedom of speech in America.” His eyebrows came close together and his face grew red. “For now, at least.”
“I’m telling you one time to keep it togethe
r, Roger.” Janelle had slowed her steps. It was clear she was listening to the exchange. “I understand this appeal means a lot to you. But I’m not going to have this meeting turn into some kind of free-for-all. Am I clear?”
Roger snorted. “Let’s just get this over with.” He shouldered past Danny and stomped past Janelle, leading the way into the meeting room.
Janelle looked at Danny. “Is this a safe situation I’m walking into?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Danny said. “Roger’s got a big mouth, but he knows where the lines are drawn.”
“Let’s hope so,” Janelle said. “Because the law is definitely not on his side.”
Danny joined Jorge and Steven Wyatt, the other town board members, at the table in the front of the room. “Everybody knows why we’re here,” he said. “Roger has filed an appeal regarding the proposed expansion of his business, which would entail the construction of three warehouses and two manufacturing facilities on lots A-154 and A-155.”
“This expansion would create over thirty jobs,” Roger said, casting a venomous look at Janelle. “Jobs that are desperately needed in this region.”
Janelle took a deep breath, and stood up. “I understand the gentleman’s concerns,” she said, setting up a habitat map next to the lot map Danny had been pointing to. “But the reason the project has been denied permission to move forward is very clear, and is grounded in established environmental protection law. If Mr. Wilson is allowed to move forward with his plans for expansion in this region, one of the very last nesting grounds we have for the Mexican long-nosed bat will be compromised, perhaps permanently.” Her long dark fingers traced over the lower left corner of Southwestern Texas, a land that didn’t hold much beyond scrub pines and deep cool caves. “Thousands of bats - perhaps even hundreds of thousands of bats – will suffer as a result.”
“And this bat is on the endangered species list?” Danny didn’t look up from the paperwork he was perusing.
“Yes, sir,” Janelle said. “It’s been on the list since 1988 – almost thirty years now. You’ll find that information on page one, as well as on page six.”
“I have a question.” The meeting room was unusually crowded, and Janelle couldn’t tell which one of the many cowboys who’d attended was asking the question. However Danny appeared to know without even glancing up.
“What’s that, Millet?” he asked.
“If these are Mexican long-nosed bats, why are we worried about ‘em at all?” Millet said, with a big, boisterous laugh. His grin grew wider when the cowboys around him joined in the jocularity. “So what if they’ve got no habitat here? We can send ‘em back just like all the rest of the illegals.” He sneered at Janelle. “Unless you’ve got plans on giving them bats driver’s licenses and Obamacare while you’re at it.”
Danny glanced at Janelle. He had surprising bright blue eyes under his cowboy hat, she noticed, and a smile that he was apparently struggling to keep under control. “Would you like to respond to that?”
“No,” Janelle smiled back. “But I will. The Mexican long-nosed bat was once endemic to this entire region.” She looked out into the crowd at the cowboy she thought was Millet. “That meant it occurred regularly in large numbers throughout Texas and New Mexico, with smaller populations being found in Arizona and periodically in Louisiana.” Janelle shrugged her large rounded shoulders and smiled. “They go to Mexico for mating purposes, but America is their home.”
“Just like you do, Millet,” Danny said, provoking much laughter from the crowd, “and no one’s suggesting we go and trash your home.” He tapped the inch high stack of paperwork Janelle had provided him with. “Anyway, our hands are tied. The regulations are all as Ms. Washington has explained to us. The bats are on the endangered species list, they’ve been on the endangered species list, and we’re obligated to protect their habitat. I’m sorry, Roger,” he said, “but unless you can provide me with some compelling reason to go up against the feds on this, we’re going to have to deny your appeal. You just can’t build where you want to build.”
“They’ve had the bats on the endangered species list for thirty years, and have made absolutely no progress in increasing their population,” Roger sputtered. He had his own pile of papers in front of him. “She said the bats were once found in Arizona and New Mexico, but the DEC’s own numbers have less than one hundred individual animals in each state. They’re failing in their mission,” he thundered. “Why should I have to continue giving control of my land over to these people?”
Janelle looked at Danny, who raised an eyebrow and nodded.
“The reason population numbers have fallen as much as they have, Mr. Wilson,” she said, in an icy tone, “is because people like you have continued to destroy the bat’s habitat. Long-nosed bats can’t just nest anywhere. The ideal scenario is a network of caves, such as you have present on your property. That type of topography is becoming increasingly rare.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of survival of the fittest?” Roger shot back. “That’s how nature works. If the bats can’t make it in the world the way it is right now, maybe the bats aren’t meant to make it at all.”
“That’s very libertarian of you,” Janelle replied. “But these bats don’t exist in isolation. They’re part of a larger system. If the bats disappear, the rest of the system they’re part of will be impacted.” She turned her attention toward the crowd of cowboys. “The Mexican long-nosed bat is one of the primary pollinators of the agave plant. And as you all know, agave is what tequila is made of.” She smiled. “No more bats? No more shots.” She consulted her notes. “While I don’t have exact numbers, American tequila interests approached two billion dollars last year. That’s a lot of jobs – and those numbers are only expected to go up. But it can’t happen without the bats.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about tequila!” Roger shouted. “None of that two billion winds up in my pocket. This is my land, and I should be able to do what I want with it.”
“Compensation programs do exist, Mr. Wilson,” Janelle said, calmly, “to offset the financial impact of having an endangered species present on your land. You may want to look into those.”
“I did,” Roger said. “Pennies per acre. Big whoop! What a joke.” He spat on the floor, right in front of Janelle’s feet. “You’re a joke.” He turned toward the front table. “These proceedings are a joke.” Jorge was getting to his feet. “Sit down, old man,” Roger sneered. “What are you going to do, arrest me?”
“Roger,” Danny said, “that is enough.”
Roger snorted. “I’ll tell you when it’s enough.” He turned on his heel and started walking out of the town hall. “I’m haven’t even begun to get started.” He kicked open the door, strode through and let it slam shut behind him.
The crowd sat in silence for a long moment. Then Danny said, “Well, if no one else has anything to say, we’ll note for the record that Mr. Wilson’s appeal was denied.” He glanced at the wall clock. “It’s 4:30. Is there any more business?”
No one had anything to say. The cowboys stood up and slowly shuffled out of the room, leaving Danny, Janelle, Jorge and Steven behind.
Janelle let out a big sigh. “Well, that was fun.”
Steven smiled at her. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“It was a waste of time all the way around,” Jorge added. “We’ve tried explaining the law to Roger every which way, but he doesn’t want to hear it.”
“It happens all the time,” Janelle said. “What we really like to be able to do with the property owners is to get them on board with the conservation mission. When they can appreciate the special value of the animals they have living on their land, then it’s easier for them to swallow the fact that they may not be able to move forward with some of their plans.”
“The only value Roger understands is financial,” Danny said. “It’s all about the bottom line with him. He’s been like that for as long as I’ve known hi
m.” The other two men murmured in agreement. “Kind of sad, really.”
“Well, if we’re done, I’m going to head home for some dinner,” Steven said. “The wife has people coming over, and I’m not going to miss out on that spread.”
“You got room for one more?” Jorge said. Steven’s wife was well known for her cooking. “Because I could eat.”
“Sure,” Steven said. He turned toward Danny and Janelle. “Do you want to join us?”
“Thank you, but no,” Janelle said. “It’s quite a drive back to San Antonio, and I want to get back before it’s too late.”
“I’ll try to head out that way later on,” Danny added, “but I’ve got a few things I want to take care of first.”
They smiled and stood while the older two men departed, and then faced each other.
“So,” Danny said. “Are you going to let me take you out to dinner?”
Janelle smiled. “If you didn’t ask me, I was going to ask you.”
“Do you like green enchiladas?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m willing to try anything once.”
“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Danny said. He led the way to his pickup and opened the door. “I’d like to take you to Rosalee’s.”
Rosalee’s didn’t look like much from the outside. Honestly, it didn’t look like much on the inside, either – there were a few tables surrounded by folding chairs, and a basket of cactus set in the front window. Danny and Janelle had the place to themselves. She looked around skeptically.
“Trust me,” Danny said. “We’re a little early. Mama Rosalee doesn’t officially start cooking until five.” He smiled at the young man who’d come out to take their order. “But Luis is going to take care of us just fine.”
Luis smiled. “You want enchiladas?” he asked, adding something in a rapid fire Spanish that Janelle couldn’t follow.