by Claire Adams
CHRISTMAS COWBOY
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
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Chapter 1
Cheyenne
I loved autumn. The change of colors in the trees, the crisp early mornings, the still nice warm days but cooler evenings. There’s enough of a chill in the air to make you think beef stew sounds like a good thing—yet none of the problems the winter brought. I loved it.
The horses loved the cooler weather too. Not that heat was that much of a problem in Green Point, Oregon. Sure, it could get hot and dry, but the higher temperatures were only for a few months, and a good share of the summer was a perfect eighty-five degrees. Hot enough to feel like summer, but not so much to cause heat problems with the horses. They grazed happily among the forty-five acres of sprawling fields.
Except for now though.
Cradling a cup of coffee, I gazed out through the front window in the direction of the massive barn, next to which about fifteen horses were currently gathered. They whinnied impatiently, looking in the direction of the back door while they waited for either Tiffany or me to step out.
I smiled. It had taken six years to save up and build the ranch. The horses that came through the gates at the front of the property had been either abused or abandoned. Some of them took years to regain trust in a human hand. The horses became my children in one way or another. I took my time when it came to finding good places for them to go, and some of them never left.
My stomach curled unpleasantly when I thought of the pink ‘past due’ slip that had come through the mail two days ago. Money was tight—way too tight for my liking. The grants were enough to cover the basics, but when it came to the mortgage on the property, it was a different story.
“Cheyenne?”
“Oh, sorry, Tif—what?”
Tiffany stood in the door frame between the living room and kitchen. Steam curled from the cup of coffee she had poured herself.
“I said we should get a move on with the feeding,” she said. “They are waiting not so patiently for their breakfast.”
“Right.”
“Hold on.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, frowning slightly with one eyebrow raised. “What’s going on with you?”
I frowned back at her. “Nothing. Why would you ask that?”
“Maybe because you’re pale and look like the Grim Reaper is about to stop by any second.”
“Pffft.”
Tiffany’s eyes scoured my face, and her expression implied that she didn’t believe a word I said. It didn’t surprise me. Tiffany’s uncanny ability to read expressions and pick up on personal energies and body language was one of the main reasons I hired her to help out with the sanctuary and ranch. I needed someone that could read others—especially people who came in looking to adopt a horse. Many of the horses we sheltered were either neglected, abandoned, or severely abused. It was comforting to have Tiffany at the sanctuary because she could pick up on that sort of thing before I could even run a background check.
The horses loved her too. They trusted her just as much as I did.
“We better get to feeding, or we’ll be fixing that fence this morning,” I said and pulled away from her. “You know how they get if they don’t get their oats first thing.”
There were a few times when certain horses had arrived at the ranch beyond terrified of any human contact. There were others who trampled through fences, or over horses, to get to food. The ones currently standing at the gate especially looked forward to mealtime.
We quickly downed the rest of our coffee before rinsing the mugs out in the kitchen sink. Grabbing a jacket, I followed Tiffany’s swinging blonde braid out to the barn through the chilly morning air. A bit of misty fog still clung to the sprawling field around the barn, and the morning dew sparkled in the sunlight. The quiet here was one of the main reasons I had fallen in love with Green Point. The town was small, and there was plenty of room for the sanctuary.
The next few hours flew by as they usually did, with Tiffany chatting cheerfully with the horses while we attended to the morning chores, which included handling the horses and brushing them down. I half-listened to her chatter while I brushed out the palomino mare with gentle strokes. Her ribcage was covered in deep scars from running through a barbed wire fence in an attempt to escape from the terrible treatment she had endured.
My blood simmered when I traced one of the jagged scars across her belly. How anyone could torture any animal was beyond me. The mare nickered softly, shifting beneath my hands.
“I know, girl,” I said, rubbing her neck affectionately. “Trust me… I know.”
She tossed her head empathetically before directing her attention to the clumps of hay on the floor.
“I swear they know what you’re saying sometimes,” Tiffany said. “The connection you have with these horses is amazing.”
I gave the palomino a friendly pat on her hindquarters. She moved on without hesitation to enjoy the warm sunlight in the field. I grinned over at Tiffany as she finished brushing one of the dark brown mares.
“They call me the horse whisperer for a reason,” I said.
Tiffany laughed, “I know, right? No telling how many times in the last six months I’ve heard someone say that.
“I suppose I should take it as a compliment. I’d rather be called some version of that than some of the other names that have been directed my way.”
“If anyone calls you bad names, I’ll kick their ass,” Tiffany stated calmly as she set her brush down for a moment. “I’m serious, Cheyenne. You are by far the best boss I’ve ever had, and you’re doing a really good thing here.”
“Well, no one in Green Point has been rude to me so far.” I said, as Tiffany moved on to another horse. “Maybe that sort of trouble is gone with the wind.”
I hoped so, at least. Moving to Green Point had been motivated by other things—not just the horse sanctuary and sprawling acres covered in evergreen pines. Dexter Ray was one of those reasons.
The pit of my stomach curled unpleasantly at the thought of my ex-boyfriend who had singlehandedly run me out of Portland. So, no more dating. No more men. Just horses. That was the mantra I had repeated to myself while signing the papers for the ranch. I couldn’t afford to let myself get wrapped up in a man again.
“What are your plans for tonight?” Tiffany asked.
Wariness filled me at the hopeful look on her face. “It depends on what you’re going to say next; what are you thinking?”
“I was just going to suggest coming to the Iron Stallion,” she said. “You know my brother’s an awesome bartender, and the food there is amazing.”
The Iron Stallion was a small restaurant and bar on the edge of Main Street. The food was delicious, along with the drinks, but it was mainly Colt that drew in the females in town. Not that I blamed any of them.
My cheeks burned mental images of Colt’s strong, broad chest popped up. He had the same fair blond hair as Tiffany and matching cerulean blue eyes that could cut right through an
yone. He and Tiffany were fraternal twins. Another factor making Colt irresistible was the fact that no one ever messed with him. He stood six-foot-two in his boots, towering over most everyone, and had a no-nonsense attitude with anyone who had too many drinks.
He used to be a rancher as well, from what I was able to gather through Tiffany. Their parents owned three different ranches, all in different states, and Colt supervised the one in Green Point in addition to running his restaurant.
No men, Cheyenne. Only horses. Remember?
“Maybe,” I said, quickly turning away to hide my burning face. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I’ve got to warn you; there’s a book in my living room calling my name.”
“You are such a hermit,” Tiffany said, sighing. “Come hang out with me, at least for a while. I know Colt would like it if you came along.”
I didn’t miss the coyness in her voice.
“Why is that?”
“You two have a lot in common.” I rolled my eyes at Tiffany’s lame attempt to dodge the question. “He’s single like you. He owns a ranch. Sort of. I think you two would hit it off great.”
“Wait, I thought you told me he was so much happier now that he has the Iron Stallion. He must not love the ranch life that much. Does Colt know that you are trying to set us up?”
“I wouldn’t call it trying to set you up,” she said but grinned when I turned to raise an eyebrow at her. “And, of course, he loves ranching. But he wanted to try his hand at building his own business, you know. Look, it was just a suggestion, that’s all. I know you have a no dating policy, but—”
“You still keep trying to fix me up with your brother.”
Tiffany opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the shrill ringtone of my phone from the tiny office in the barn. Grateful for the interruption, I handed her a pitchfork before hurrying into the office. A quick glance at the caller ID told me it was Jacob Myers—the local vet for the surrounding area. There was only one reason that Jacob would be calling me on a Saturday afternoon, especially since he knew I was closed.
“Hi, Cheyenne; sorry for the weekend call, but I have a horse here at the clinic that needs to be picked up. I’ve been treating him for malnourishment, and I already stitched up some wounds.
My heart dropped, “Is there evidence of abuse? It wouldn’t be the first time a horse ran through a fence, right.”
“Direct evidence, Cheyenne. I confronted the owner over the phone about the scars and neglect, which he denied. I got an ill response when I told him I’d be keeping the horse because he refused to pay for treatment, but also because I suspected abuse. That didn’t go so well. Bottom line is I can’t keep him here.”
“That’s because it’s basically theft.”
“Right, but we’ll deal with that later. We’ll get the damn law involved if we have to.”
“Fine. Any temperament issues? Will loading be a problem?”
“Nothing a bit of sedation can’t handle. I’ll get that ready to go. Just pull around to the back.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll hitch up and see you in a bit.”
I turned to find Tiffany standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Another horse?” she asked.
Sighing, I tucked my work phone into the back pocket of my jeans and reached for a blank manila folder to gather all the information I could from Jacob.
“Yeah. That was Jacob. Direct signs of abuse, and the owner won’t even pay for the treatment.”
“I don’t understand it,” Tiffany said, sadness filling her eyes. “How can people do this to animals?”
My heart clenched thinking of it too. That was why I devoted every bit of time I had to the horses that came here. They deserved a good future—if it wasn’t on my own ranch, it would hopefully be with someone who had the time to undo the damage of past abuse.
“I need to hitch up the trailer and get going. Jacob is waiting for me at the clinic. Looks like I’ll have to pass on the Iron Stallion tonight.”
“I understand. Do you need some help?”
“I’ll be fine,” I smiled assuredly when Tiffany frowned at me. “I can handle a spooked horse. Besides, Jacob said he was going to sedate it.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “I’ll see you on Monday morning. Enjoy your weekend.”
I waved goodbye to Tiffany after hitching up the horse trailer. She gave a cheerful wave from her black truck before disappearing down the long stretch of dirt road that ran in the direction of town.
Sliding behind the steering wheel, a pang of disappointment washed over me. A nice meal out plus a drink, all while taking in Colt’s sculpted physique did sound pretty good. Even if I couldn’t get involved, I could still enjoy the view and fantasize at least.
I sighed as the truck roared to life. Fantasies were about all I had these days.
Chapter 2
Colt
Mom would be over the moon right now. I stared down at the hot and soapy water my hands were currently submerged in, remembering how she always used to yell at the two of us for not helping out with the dishes.
The Iron Stallion was jam packed at the bar and in the dining room. We were running out of glassware fast, along with dinner utensils. The two high school girls that I’d hired to wait tables were darting around fluidly, taking orders, running out plates, and then taking the empty ones back. My dishwasher was slammed while my cook and bartender rushed through orders as quickly as possible.
If my blood pressure wasn’t so damn high, I’d feel proud to know that the Iron Stallion was a popular attraction for the locals and surrounding towns. My soft run turned into a hard one within a matter of days when word of mouth spread the news. Now my three-month-old ‘baby’ was quickly growing into a well-liked restaurant and popular bar.
That said a lot, given that Green Point had a reputation for chasing out businesses if the locals didn’t like the store or the owners. I had a foot up I guess because of my parents. Their ranch, located just a few miles outside of town on over two hundred acres of land, employed at least twenty people from town or nearby. ‘Hire locals’ was what my father had written in his will if I needed help to run and maintain the ranch.
Settling the now clean glasses on a towel, I drained the sink before drying my hands. A loud and happy sounding chatter filled my ears when I stepped out from the back room to check on everything. Cheerful grins greeted me as I passed through the maze of tables, nodding to anyone who smiled up at me. I took my position behind the bar where Joe Billings was wiping down the countertop.
“Busy night,” Joe said, nodding to the full bar. “Gotta say, boss. Looks like this place will be in business for a long time to come.”
I scanned the group of people waiting around the hostess stand. “I was thinking I might need to hire a few more employees to help us here. Busboy, bar back, hostess, that sort of thing. What do you think?”
“You’re right on with that. I think you’re going to get busier as the days go on.”
“Any recommendations on who to hire around here? Somebody that would be good about doing their jobs?
Joe stroked his jaw in contemplation. “You know, my two daughters just turned sixteen. They could use something to do.”
“Have them stop by if they are interested. I like the idea of hiring young people. Jobs can really help keep them out of trouble, you know?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Green Point is smack dab in the middle of nowhere.”
I chuckled, “That’s for sure. But now that I think of it, working my ass off never stopped me from finding trouble.”
Joe laughed out loud, “Never stopped me either, boss. Never stopped me either.”
Still chuckling, he walked down to his end of the bar to check on a few customers with empty glasses. I had just poured a few for customers on my end when I recognized a burly figure approaching the bar.
“Michael,” I said, nodding at him as he took a
seat at one of the bar stools. “What can I get you tonight?”
“Whiskey. I’m in the mood for some good whiskey.”
I slid a glass full of the amber liquid across the bar top. I had only talked to Michael a handful of times since he had moved here after buying a ranch next to ours. The last time we had spoken was over mending the fence between the property lines after his cows had wandered onto the back part of the ranch.
Age and weather had left their mark on him already, like many of the ranchers around Green Point. I was no different either, with calloused hands and weather-beaten skin.
Michael picked up the glass with an appreciative nod.
“A great place you have here, and a good way to provide jobs for a few folks from what I’ve seen.”
“Happy to help keep Green Point on the map in whatever way I can.”
“The ranch must help keep Green Point employed as well. Everything going okay over there?”
“We were doing fine the last time I checked the books. Were you appointed to ask if Smith Ranch was going out of business since my parents passed away?”
The Staffer ranch in the next town over had offered their sympathies when word spread about the truck accident. Jim Staffer had even paid our ranch a personal visit with flowers and a pan of lasagna from his wife. There was no doubt in my mind that, despite their kindness, they were eager to take over the contracts my ranch still held.
And the Staffer ranch still held doubts in my abilities, it seemed, including Michael who worked with them for a year to learn the ropes of running a ranch alone.
“They were shocked and saddened about your parents,” Michael said. His gaze met mine then. “All of us were. An accident out of the blue like that makes you think about your own mortality, you know? I think we were all just a little surprised about your business move.”
I shrugged my shoulders. When it came to opening the Iron Stallion, I’d never explained it to anyone besides Tiffany. I didn’t want word to get out that my parents’ ranch was more of a burden and headache for me at times. It was a ball and chain in a way, too. It seemed like I couldn’t go anywhere without being called to the ranch for some sort of problem.