by A. J. Pine
“I’ve got an empty room in the guest cabin,” he said. “You can stay there until Tuesday when you can either get this thing fixed or put it to rest for good.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
“No charge, of course. Especially if that land is half yours like you say it is.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It is.”
He shrugged. “Well then, looks like I have a few days to convince you to let me buy you out. Seeing as how you’re in financial straits, it seems to be a win-win for both of us.”
Delaney jutted out her chin. “Thank you, but I don’t take handouts. I’ll stay at the ranch, but you’ll let me earn my keep. And my financial straits are none of your business. Once my land is returned to me, I’ll get back on my feet. So there will be no need to convince me of anything. I’m sure your little business can survive on half the land.”
She grabbed her phone, purse, and keys from the car and sauntered off toward his truck. Only when she was sure he couldn’t see her face anymore did she blow out a long, shaky breath.
She could do this. This place used to be her home turf, and with any luck, it would be again. It wasn’t like she was looking to steal Sam’s business from him. She was just looking to get hers back.
She yanked on the handle of the car door and hopped inside the silver Ford truck. It was still running, and the air-conditioning poured out from the vents in heavenly gusts. She couldn’t help the small moan that escaped her lips or the smile that spread across her face. Growing up in the desert, she was no stranger to the heat. But she’d always hated it. She’d begged her parents year after year to take her and her sisters somewhere cold for a family vacation. But it was always the same excuse.
“If we shut down the motel, we shut down our income, and you know we can’t afford to do that,” her father had said. So vacations were relegated to an overnight stay at the Bellagio when they could scrape together enough money—a quick trip to the Grand Canyon or the Hoover Dam when they couldn’t. Wade had promised her a honeymoon in Colorado as soon as they had enough money. But she learned early on that enough meant poker funds or Wade’s next no-fail business venture that always failed, and soon enough equaled in debt. So here she was, twenty-nine years old, and she’d still never seen snow.
“You all right there?” Sam asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
She pointed toward his door. “Close it. You’re letting all the beautiful cold air out.”
He chuckled. “And you expect me to believe you were going to spend the night in your car? I doubt you’d have lasted five minutes let alone four nights out there. No air, no plumbing, no change of clothes?”
She crossed her arms. “Just because I like cool air doesn’t mean I can’t rough it when necessary.”
He threw his hat in the back seat of the cab, put on a pair of aviators, and set the truck into gear, pulling onto the road and around her stranded vehicle.
“Wait!” she cried. “What about towing my car?”
He shook his head. “I said I had the gear. Not that it was hitched and ready to go. Plus, it’s hot as hell right now. Figure I’ll wait until dusk and then come back.” He cleared his throat, but it sounded very much like a stifled laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about anyone stealing it.”
She blew out a breath. He had her there. Mildred—or Millie for short—was the affectionate name she’d given the red Honda Civic when she’d bought it used eleven years ago. She saved every cent she’d earned working nights and weekends all throughout high school and while she’d commuted to Pima Medical Institute, where she earned her associate’s degree as a veterinary technician. Millie was the one thing she truly owned, and now she was just a heap of metal on the side of the road, left to bake in the blistering sun.
“Fair enough,” she finally said. “But I don’t want to leave her—I mean it—too long.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “That old beater has a name, doesn’t it? Or should I say she?”
“It might,” she admitted.
He nodded and then gave his dashboard an affectionate pat. “Steely Dan here hasn’t let me down yet.” He paused, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “Your car’s in good hands—at the ranch and when the shop opens up next week.”
Her shoulders relaxed. She and Sam were in opposition when it came to the piece of land they both wanted, but she guessed that didn’t mean they were enemies.
He pulled back up the main drive of the guest ranch but passed the cabin where they’d first met, rolling to a stop in front of a stable instead.
“Come on,” he said, pulling the key from the ignition. He grabbed his Cattleman out of the back seat and set it on his head.
Her brows furrowed. “Where are we going?”
He took off his sunglasses. Finally, after all this time of playing it straight, he grinned, and holy hell was he that good looking when they’d met? His chocolate brown eyes darkened with mischief, and his teeth—straight and white—had the tiniest little gap between the front two. She liked perfect little imperfections like that. They gave a person character. It was what drew her to Wade—his crooked smile and asymmetrical nose. She should have seen the red flag when he’d told her his nose had been broken one too many times to be properly set. She’d eventually seen firsthand what a broken nose looked like when Wade couldn’t pay one of his “associates” back for the money he’d lost.
The line of Sam’s nose was nice and straight. That alone told her he wasn’t the type of guy other men messed with.
“Time for you to earn your keep,” he said.
All the tension that had left her body on the short ride over came back as he led her into the stable and straight to a wall where a large pair of dirty overalls hung on a hook. He pulled them down and tossed them to her. She coughed as she caught them, a puff of dust invading her air space.
“Huh,” he mused. “We should probably wash those sometime this month.”
Delaney’s eyes widened. This month?
“Horses are out in the arena right now, so it’s the best time to muck out the stalls. Pitchfork is hanging against the side of the first stall. Gloves and wheelbarrow are over there.” He pointed over her shoulder. “Make sure you really scrape under the shavings to get rid of anything that’s wet. I’ll let one of our stable boys take care of the wheelbarrow and add fresh bedding after the stalls are dry. I’ll even send someone over with a thermos full of ice water. I hear mucking is thirsty work.”
She stared at him for several long seconds, but he said nothing. He was serious.
Forget what she’d thought about his eyes or his teeth or that stupid straight nose. She knew what he was doing. He was going to try to break her spirit—to make her give up before the real fight even started. Well, he messed with the wrong woman. When she did her clinical at a Vegas petting zoo, she did everything from grooming llamas to catheterizing a goat with a urinary obstruction. Hell, she grew up taking care of the family’s two dogs and three cats. This was nothing. A horse stall was nothing more than a giant litter box. A giant, foul-smelling, filled with larger-than-cat-sized waste litter box.
She dropped her bag on the ground, raised her brows, and wriggled into the overalls. She pulled out the gloves that hung from the bib pocket and put those on, too.
“Anything else, Mr. Callahan?”
He shrugged and was gentleman enough to hand her the pitchfork. It took everything in her not to growl at him in response. Instead she smiled pleasantly.
“Thank you for your generous hospitality.”
He winked. “You’re welcome. Happy mucking.” He sauntered out the stable door. When Delaney heard the roar of his truck’s engine and was sure he was out of earshot, she gritted her teeth and finally let loose a guttural sound that would have raised a cat’s haunches or sent a pit bull to cower in a corner.
Pitchfork in hand, she pushed open the first stall door and winced at the mess inside.
Wha
t Sam Callahan didn’t realize was that her spirit had already been broken by one man too many. He didn’t have that kind of power over her. She’d muck his stall and take whatever else he threw at her, but she wasn’t backing down. She’d come for what was hers, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she got it back.
About the Author
A librarian for teens by day and a romance writer by night, A.J. Pine can’t seem to escape the world of fiction, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. When she finds that twenty-fifth hour in the day, she might indulge in a tiny bit of TV when she nourishes her undying love of vampires, superheroes, and a certain high-functioning sociopath detective. She hails from the far-off galaxy of the Chicago suburbs.
You can learn more at:
AJPine.com
Twitter @AJ_Pine
Facebook.com/AJPineAuthor
Also by A.J. Pine
Second Chance Cowboy
Saved by the Cowboy (novella)
Tough Luck Cowboy
Praise for A.J. Pine
“Sweet and engrossing.”
—Publishers Weekly on Tough Luck Cowboy
“Light and witty.”
—Library Journal on Saved by the Cowboy
“A fabulous storyteller who will keep you turning pages and wishing for just one more chapter at the end.”
—Carolyn Brown, New York Times bestselling author,
on Second Chance Cowboy
“Cross my heart, this sexy, sweet romance gives a cowboy-at-heart lawyer a second chance at first love and readers a fantastic ride.”
—Jennifer Ryan, New York Times bestselling author,
on Second Chance Cowboy
“Ms. Pine’s character development, strong family building, and interesting secondary characters add layers to the story that jacked up my enjoyment of Second Chance Cowboy to maximum levels.”
―USA Today “Happy Ever After”
“5 Stars! Top Pick! The author and her characters twist and turn their way right into your heart.”
—NightOwlReviews.com on Second Chance Cowboy
“This is a strong read with a heartwarming message and inspiring characters.”
—RT Book Reviews on Second Chance Cowboy
ROCKY MOUNTAIN COWBOY
Sara Richardson
To Jenna LaFleur
Chapter One
In a small town like Topaz Falls, Colorado, the grocery store was the last place you’d want to go if you didn’t want to be noticed. But when your diet consisted mainly of Honey Nut Cheerios and you’d run out of milk, you had no choice but to show up at Frank’s Market in full disguise.
Jaden Alexander pulled his blue Colorado-flag stocking cap farther down his forehead so that it met the top of his Oakleys. Not that the sunglasses were inconspicuous. They were a custom design, made exclusively for him when the company had courted him for sponsorship six years ago after he’d made his Olympic debut. No one else would know that, though. To other people, he hoped he looked like just another ski bum who moonlighted as a bartender or waiter during the off-season. With any luck, no one in town would realize that J.J. Alexander—dubbed the Snowboarding Cowboy by the media—had come home.
The door still chimed when he walked in, the same way it had when he’d done the weekly grocery run for his grandma twelve years ago. In fact, it looked like Frank hadn’t changed much of anything. The same depressing fluorescent lights still hummed overhead, casting bright spots onto the dirty linoleum tiles. He passed by the three checkout stations, where two bored cashiers stood hunched behind their registers, fingers pecking away on their phones.
One of them looked familiar enough that a shot of panic hit Jaden in the chest. But the woman didn’t even look up as he slipped into the nearest aisle, so maybe he was just being paranoid. Death threats on Twitter would do that to a guy. Ever since the accident, going out in public wasn’t exactly his favorite thing to do. He’d been ambushed by photographers, reporters, and fans who’d written him off, and he was not in the mood to deal with any public showdowns tonight.
“J.J. Alexander? That you?”
Anyone else and he would’ve shaken his head and kept right on walking, but he knew the voice behind him. He’d never get away with walking on past without a word. He turned around, and right there at the end of the aisle stood Levi, Lance, and Lucas Cortez. Back in high school, Jaden had bummed around with Levi until Cash Greer passed away. After that, Levi had gone to Oklahoma to train as a bull rider, and Jaden had finally been accepted to train with the U.S. ski and snowboard team.
“Holy shit, man.” Levi sauntered over the way a bull rider would—all swagger. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Hey, Levi.” Jaden forced his jaw to loosen and nodded at each of the brothers in turn. “Lucas. Lance.” Now, those three had changed in twelve years. They’d all cleaned up. Still cowboys in their ragged jeans and boots, but each of the brothers was clean-shaven and more groomed than he’d ever seen him. Wasn’t a coincidence that they all had rings on their left fingers now too. Jaden slipped his sunglasses onto his forehead, grateful the store seemed empty, so they shouldn’t attract too much attention.
“Actually, I’m not back.” His voice had changed since the accident. These days he had to fight for a conversational tenor instead of slipping into defensive mode. “Not permanently anyway. I’m only here to consult on the new terrain park at the resort.” The Wilder family had been looking to expand their ski hill outside of Topaz Falls for a few years now. He’d never been a fan of the Wilder family—no one in town was—but the job had offered him an opportunity to lie low for a while.
“Heard that’s gonna be quite the addition up there,” Levi said. “I also heard your grandma sold the ranch a few years back. You got a place to stay?”
“I rented a place on the mountain.” He didn’t acknowledge that bit about his grandma. Hated to think of her stuck in that facility in Denver. He hadn’t had a choice, though, once the dementia started. She’d taken care of him—raised him—seeing as how his dad had been a loser and his mom a free spirit who’d rather live the gypsy lifestyle than hang out with her kid.
Four years ago, the roles reversed, and he was the one taking care of Grams. Back then he couldn’t do much for her. He was too busy splitting his time between Park City and Alaska, chasing the snow so he could stay in shape. After she’d started wandering off, he’d moved her into the best facility in Denver and dropped in a couple of times a month to visit, even though she no longer knew him.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need backup.” Lance moseyed over. As the eldest Cortez brother, he was serious and stern. He used to scare the shit out of Jaden when they were kids, but from the looks of things, he’d mellowed out. “Jessa didn’t tell me there were a thousand different kinds of tampons. I have no clue what to get. Any ideas?”
Uhhh…Jaden looked around, realizing for the first time they were in that aisle. The one he never set foot in. On purpose anyway.
“There’s regular, super, super-plus…” Lucas shook his head as he examined the products stacked on the shelves. “I thought we were buying tampons, not gasoline.”
The brothers laughed, and even with the anxiety squirming around his heart, Jaden cracked a smile. “So this is what happens when you get hitched, huh?” Oh how things had changed. Used to be, on a Friday night, he and Levi would drive up to the hot springs on the Cortezes’ property, share a few beers, have a bonfire, and get to at least second base with whatever girl looked good that night. Now these three spent their Friday nights shopping for woman-stuff.
Levi glared at his eldest brother like he wanted to string him up by his toenails. “We were out for a beer when Lance’s wife called with an”—he raised his hands for air quotes—“emergency.”
“She was in tears,” Lance said defensively. “And quit bullshitting us. If Cass had called, you’d be doing the same thing right now.”
That seemed to shut Levi up.
Lucas look
ed at his brothers with humor in his eyes. “Naomi loves me too much to put me through that.”
“Yeah?” Levi shot Jaden a sly grin. “That why she sent you to the store for hemorrhoid cream after Char was born?”
And that was Jaden’s cue. There were some things you couldn’t unhear, and he definitely didn’t want to know anything about having babies and hemorrhoids. “Well, it was good to see you guys. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
He made a move to slip past and leave them all behind, but Levi walked with him. “Hold up. How’re things going?”
The familiar anxiety slipped those cold fingers around Jaden’s heart and squeezed. He’d been conditioned. Anytime someone looked at him like that—used that overly sympathetic tone of voice—he wanted to turn and bolt before they could bring up the accident. “Things are fine,” he lied. Things had fallen apart after that race. In his life and in his head. Three months later, he still didn’t know how to put it all back together.
“I saw the crash on TV.”
Yeah, Levi along with the rest of the world. If they hadn’t witnessed it during live coverage of the race, they’d seen it in the extensive news analysis afterward.
“You all healed up?”
Did it matter? “Pretty much. I’ve got a few pins in my arm, but who doesn’t?” The joke fell flat, and the anxiety squeezed harder, shrinking his heart in its suffocating grasp.
“Haven’t heard much about the other guy in a few months.” Questions lurked in Levi’s tone and in his eyes. Jaden could see them surfacing.
Had he done it on purpose? Had Jaden intentionally taken out his biggest competition on that last turn when it looked like he wasn’t going to win the gold? Everyone had already made up their own answers, so why did it matter what he said?