Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | True Blue Cowboy

True Blue Cowboy
Marin Thomas


He Never Expected To See Her Again!When Mack Cash's mysterious one-night stand shows up at the dude ranch where he works, he is stunned. And just as he suspected during their night together, Beth Richards is no buckle bunny, despite the getup she was wearing. Instead, she's just the kind of woman he's looking for–sexy, sure, but also down-home and whip-smart.Mack's obvious attraction is just the boost Beth was looking for after a hurtful divorce. She loves the way he looks at her–and sees her. Except for one thing. He wants a family, and Beth can only disappoint him. She's already failed at love once and she can't go through it again. That's why she has to let Mack go….







He Never Expected To See Her Again!

When Mack Cash’s mysterious one-night stand shows up at the dude ranch where he works, he is stunned. And just as he suspected during their night together, Beth Richards is no buckle bunny, despite the getup she was wearing. Instead, she’s just the kind of woman he’s looking for—sexy, sure, but also down-home and whip-smart.

Mack’s obvious attraction is just the boost Beth was looking for after a hurtful divorce. She loves the way he looks at her—and sees her. Except for one thing. He wants a family, and Beth can only disappoint him. She’s already failed at love once and she can’t go through it again. That’s why she has to let Mack go….


“You don’t have to be so crude,” she said.

“I call it like I see it. You dolled yourself up then set your sights on me. After you got what you wanted, you walked away without a backward glance.”

Miffed, Beth planted her hands on her hips. “And I see it like this… You approached me in the bar, and unlike my husband I at least waited for my divorce to become final before I took a walk on the wild side.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the reason I dolled myself up was because men like you never give women like me a second glance.”

“What are you talking about?”

She spread her arms wide. “When it comes to passion and desire I’m no man’s fantasy.”

“You don’t think very highly of yourself.” She would have fled, if her only escape route hadn’t been blocked by a broad-shouldered cowboy. “I think we should—”

“Pretend that night never happened,” she said.

Forgetting her evening with Mack was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t dare tell him that unless she cared to keep torturing herself.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll act as if we’ve never met before.”


Dear Reader (#ulink_f590180e-c766-58ea-9161-e00f41df709c),

Like the other Cash brothers, Mack attracts his fair share of female attention, and being the lead singer of the Cowboy Rebels makes him a favorite with the buckle bunnies. But Mack’s getting tired of the single life and he’s ready to find the right woman—that is, after one more fling with a woman who won’t share her last name.

The fun begins when the mystery woman turns up as a guest at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch where Mack’s a wrangler, except she’s not a buckle bunny anymore—she’s exactly the kind of woman Mack’s looking to settle down with. He’s willing to give Beth a second chance, but she’s not on board with his plans for a committed relationship. The happy-ever-after Mack envisions for them might be hijacked by Beth’s insecurities and her belief that she can’t give Mack the family he’s always wanted. I hope you enjoy watching Mack and Beth struggle to find their way as a couple, and when you reach the end of the book you’ll be a believer like Beth that the true meaning of family is more than biology—the meaning of family is all in the heart.

If you missed any of the previous Cash Brothers books, they’re still available for purchase online: The Cowboy Next Door (July 2013), Twins Under the Christmas Tree (October 2013), Her Secret Cowboy (February 2014) and The Cowboy’s Destiny (May 2014). To keep up-to-date on my books, contests and writing news, please visit my website, www.marinthomas.com (http://www.marinthomas.com), where you’ll find links to all my social media hangouts.

Happy Ever After…The Cowboy Way!

Marin


True Blue Cowboy

Marin Thomas




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_a3c1db2c-589b-5cb8-8c8f-be2e0f9754ae)

MARIN THOMAS grew up in Janesville, Wisconsin. She left the Midwest to attend college in Tucson, Arizona, where she earned a B.A. in radio-TV. Following graduation she married her college sweetheart in a five-minute ceremony at the historic Little Chapel of the West in Las Vegas, Nevada. Over the years she and her family have lived in seven different states, but they’ve now come full circle and returned to Arizona, where the rugged desert and breathtaking sunsets provide plenty of inspiration for Marin’s cowboy books.


This book is dedicated to The Cash Brothers Cowgirl Posse…Denise, Susan, Nancy, Renee, Teresa, Sabrina, Gaby, Linda and Kim… Thank you for your help in spreading the word about The Cash Brothers series—you ladies rock! But most of all…thank you for your friendship.


Contents

Cover (#u56cabc20-e78e-5810-a8b2-ddd671cee268)

Back Cover Text (#u79af5370-9daa-5b49-b4e3-bf2ebcba8ed7)

Introduction (#uf54b5bab-3a95-5e82-b51d-c2daed1babf0)

Dear Reader (#uc3deb91d-a7cb-5242-b0fa-22828c627a08)

Title Page (#u4bdcf4d7-4006-5848-a57d-fd8c5f958734)

About the Author (#ud9cc5113-330e-5a08-9df6-97c5948481c8)

Dedication (#u504d04e3-3016-5160-b8a3-abea54265cf0)

Prologue (#u8e1d823e-5fe1-52c6-9ffd-209845871735)

Chapter One (#u10d32c86-49a7-5f7c-8756-7c2ed1de6aa5)

Chapter Two (#u00cfa400-885a-5131-9dec-8491746468e4)

Chapter Three (#u3a9bb0ac-a175-5e4a-8264-60707a4c1729)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#ulink_d9eb848d-22e2-5770-b119-f8da3a0c5159)

Two could play the cheating game.

Except it wasn’t really cheating, because Beth Richards and her husband, Brad, were officially divorced. Earlier in the afternoon they’d met at the lawyer’s office to sign the papers. Afterward, Beth had gone on a shopping spree.

She adjusted her brand-new Victoria’s Secret push-up bra and fluffed the fake brown hair extensions that made her look twenty-one instead of thirty-one. She studied herself in the ladies’-room mirror and decided her lips could use a second coat of Ravish Me Red, then cursed her trembling fingers when she rummaged for the tube of gloss in the rhinestone-studded clutch.

You’ve come this far, don’t you dare chicken out.

She swiped fresh color across her lips and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles in her retro Western shirt. She looked nothing like a financial consultant for a top-rated investment firm and everything like the girls in the bar hoping to snag a cowboy.

Maybe if you’d dressed sexier for Brad, he wouldn’t have strayed.

And if Brad had remained faithful, he never would have gotten Beth’s boss pregnant and then decided that he did want to be a father after all.

Beth shushed the voice in her head and recalled her therapist’s words. Your husband’s infidelity is his problem. You didn’t cause it.

But her sterility was Beth’s problem and in the end, the reason her husband had filed for divorce. Sadly, had he not contacted a lawyer first, who knows how many months would have passed by before Beth discovered Brad was cheating on her? At least she understood the real reason behind the extra customer accounts she’d been asked to manage—Sara had hoped to keep Beth at the office on weekends while she snuck around with Brad.

Beth should have known something like this would happen after the way she’d caught Sara ogling Brad at the July Fourth company picnic nine months ago. Instead, she’d believed her sports-anchor husband’s claim that sexy women were a dime a dozen but when it came to marriage, he wanted a down-to-earth woman like her. When Brad had proposed to Beth, she’d told him that she couldn’t have children, and he swore he didn’t care.

The schmuck had done an admirable job hiding his true feelings the past five years, but the truth had come out during the divorce negotiations. Brad admitted he’d only married her to secure his job at the station when he’d heard rumors that the executives weren’t happy with his playboy image and might not renew his contract.

After Brad established himself as a settled man with his viewing audience, he’d decided having a family would move his career up the ladder. He was a user and she hated that she’d been taken in by his handsome face and playboy charm. Most of all, she despised him for doing a number on her self-confidence. But tonight she intended to recover it.

I can do this.

Never in her wildest dreams had she believed she was capable of walking into a bar and picking up a stranger. But after Brad’s betrayal, she desperately needed to prove to herself that she was still desirable.

The bathroom door opened and a pair of young women wearing stocking caps waltzed in. The chatty Cathies reminded Beth that Christmas was in twenty days, and this year she would not be attending Channel 3’s toy drive with Brad. The thought made her sad. Even though she wasn’t able to have children of her own, she’d looked forward to handing out gifts at the station. This year she’d sit home alone and watch reruns of A Christmas Story. She had considered spending the holiday with her parents in California, but she hadn’t gotten up the courage yet to tell them about the divorce.

“Nice belt,” the brunette said.

“Thank you.” Beth had paid almost four hundred dollars for her outfit—way-too-tight Cruel Girl jeans and a Roar shirt with enough sequins to light up Times Square. Add a rhinestone belt, purse and jewelry to her ensemble and she was pure sex in cowboy boots. Squaring her shoulders she left the ladies’ room, wincing when the wall of loud music hit her.

While getting her hair done at the beauty salon she’d overheard the stylists mention the Number 10 Saloon on the west end of Yuma. According to them, the Cowboy Rebels played on Saturday nights and their music was worth the ten-dollar cover charge. Beth had never heard of the band—she preferred classic rock. But what the heck, she’d already had a TV sportscaster in her bed—why not a swaggering cowboy?

She weaved through the tables and returned to her stool at the bar. “Thanks for saving my seat,” she shouted at the man next to her. He wasn’t much to look at. According to Brad, she wasn’t all that special in the looks department, either. She shoved her ex to the back of her mind and watched the patrons in the mirror mounted to the wall behind the bartender. This was her first foray into a country-and-western bar and she was pleasantly surprised by the decor. Used to eating in high-end dining establishments and frequenting upscale hotel lounges, she’d expected a dark, dingy saloon that smelled like spilled beer and men who needed a bath.

To her surprise the interior of the club could have been any frontier bar from the Old West, except that the furnishings were brand new and the place had been decorated for Christmas. A lighted tree stood next to the red-velvet curtains that framed the stage, and giant bows hung on the oil paintings of scantily clad women adorning the walls.

The food menu had been printed on the backs of Wanted posters, and battery-operated lanterns served as the centerpieces on the tables. Wide wooden planks covered the floor and wood beams crisscrossed the ceiling.

The band ended one song and began another. Beth listened to the lead singer belt out “Drink Up and Be Somebody,” which reminded her... She tapped an acrylic fingernail on the bar and a third glass of Bordeaux magically appeared. She sipped the wine and focused on the lead singer who’d introduced himself as Mack Cash. As he moved across the stage, his brown eyes and shaggy brown hair screamed T-R-O-U-B-L-E. The kind of trouble she was looking for tonight.

He wore a tight black T-shirt that showcased his muscular chest, and his jeans rode low on his hips, accentuating a trim waist and a flat belly. And the faded denim was torn, frayed and ripped in all the places that made a woman’s mouth water.

Oh, yeah, she’d found her man.

Before the night was through, she was leaving the bar with Mack.

A group of women moved closer to the stage, their big breasts bobbing and bouncing for the band’s viewing pleasure. Beth’s push-up bra helped her figure, but her girlfriends couldn’t compete with what was on display.

“Care to dance?”

The question came from behind Beth, and she spun on the stool. Average height, pleasant face, receding hairline, brand-new cowboy hat in hand, a bucking-horse belt buckle, freshly pressed jeans and a Western pearl-snap shirt. The weekend cowboy had tried hard to pull off the look, but he didn’t stand a chance in a bar full of real ones.

An invisible string tugged Beth’s head sideways, her gaze colliding with Mack’s. She stopped breathing when he smiled at her. “I’m sorry,” she told weekend cowboy. “I’m with him.” She nodded to the band. Now if only she knew how to execute her plan.

You need a clever pickup line.

How about... Hey, cowboy, wanna share my saddle?

Ugh.

I’ll be your Miss Kitty if you’ll be my Matt Dillon.

Cheesy.

The Cowboy Rebels ended their music set and Mack announced that the band was taking a break. He set aside his guitar, stepped off the stage and headed straight for Beth.

Her pulse sped up as she anticipated a night of revenge sex—even if it did come after her divorce.

Mack stopped next to her and she felt the warmth in his eyes clear down to her toes. The cowboy probably flirted with hundreds of women each weekend, yet he made her believe she had his undivided attention. He leaned against the bar, the movement sending a whiff of musk cologne and warm male past her nose.

Oh, boy. She’d bitten off more than she could chew.

“I haven’t seen you here before. First time?”

She nodded then silently cursed her dry throat. “Yes. And you?” Oh, God. She didn’t just ask that, did she? Get a grip on yourself and stop acting like an idiot.

“My band’s been playing at the bar for a few years.” He nodded to her wineglass. “Mind if I join you for a drink?”

“Please.” The guy next to Beth had vacated his seat without being asked. Mack slid onto the stool, his knees bumping her thigh. The bartender set a beer in front of him. He nodded to her wineglass. “Can I buy you another?”

Three glasses of wine was her limit. “I’m good, thanks.”

His stare grew intense and she resisted squirming. Even when she’d dated hotshot Brad, he hadn’t made her feel this off balanced.

“I’m Mack Cash.”

“Beth.”

“Beth what?”

“Just Beth.”

“An Arizona cowboy walks into a bar and takes a seat next to an attractive woman named Just Beth.” Mack kept a straight face. He’d noticed Beth the moment she’d entered the bar and had been hoping she wouldn’t hook up with another cowboy before he had the chance to speak with her.

“The cowboy gives Just Beth a quick glance then casually looks at his watch.” Mack nodded to his timepiece. “She asks...” He waited to see if she’d help his story along and when she didn’t, he said, “‘Is your date running late?’” Mack shook his head. “‘No’, the cowboy replies. ‘I just got this state-of-the-art watch and I was testing it.’”

Beth’s eyes twinkled and her posture relaxed. The muscle in her thigh was no longer as hard as a rock and she’d quit tapping her fingernail against the wineglass.

“Intrigued, Just Beth says, ‘What’s so special about your state-of-the-art watch?’ The cowboy explains, ‘It uses alpha waves to talk to me telepathically.’”

She laughed.

“So this Just Beth points at the cowboy’s watch and says, ‘What’s it telling you now?’”

Mack leaned closer to Beth and whispered. “‘It says you’re not wearing any panties.’”

She faked a surprised gasp. “How did Just Beth respond to that?”

“She said the cowboy’s watch must be broken ’cause she’s wearing panties.”

“And what did the cowboy say?” Beth asked.

“He points to his watch and says, ‘Damn thing’s an hour fast.’”

Beth’s mouth formed a perfect O then she snapped it shut and giggled.

Mack glanced at her bare ring finger. “So tell me, Just Beth, do you have a cowboy waiting for you at home?”

“Not anymore.”

“If I were to suggest we get to know each other better after the band finishes tonight...”

“I’d say yes.”

Score! Mack leaned in close, inhaling her sexy scent. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He returned to the stage and the band played a set of rodeo songs and he pushed Beth to the back of his mind, focusing on entertaining the crowd. He never wanted to disappoint his fans.

During the week he made decent money cowboying at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch, but it was the income he earned playing music that padded his savings account. His married brothers suggested he use the money to build a house and find a good woman to settle down with. In the span of a little over three years, four of his brothers and his younger sister had tied the knot. Mack and Porter were the only single siblings left in the family.

A part of Mack admitted that he wasn’t getting as much satisfaction out of the singles scene but old habits died hard, and he was only willing to give up the nightlife when the right woman came along. He looked over at the bar.

Just Beth’s stool was empty.

There went another shot at finding the right woman.

* * *

THE LAST PATRONS walked out the door of the Number 10 Saloon and drove off, leaving only a few scattered pickups in the parking lot. Beth sat on the tailgate of one of the trucks, rocking her legs as if she was on a playground swing.

She hadn’t been this excited or terrified in longer than she could remember. But she’d never done anything like this before. Maybe she should have indulged in a fourth glass of wine while she’d waited for Mack.

Too late now.

The saloon door opened and the Cowboy Rebels walked outside, carrying their instruments. The group exchanged words then broke apart and each member went to their vehicle. Mack’s truck sat in the shadows at the back of the lot, and it wasn’t until he got within ten feet of the pickup that he saw her and applied the brakes. A slow smile spread across his face.

“How’d you know this was my ride?” His husky voice poured over her like honey and she shivered.

“The sign on the door.”

He rubbed a finger alongside his nose as if embarrassed and nodded to the magnetic sheet displaying a cowboy on a bucking horse and the band’s name and website URL printed across the background. “Had those made up a few months ago.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, and Beth wondered if she’d read the signals wrong and Mack had only been teasing about sneaking away together after the bar closed. She hopped off the tailgate. “I...umm...”

Mack moved closer until only a whisper of air squeezed between their bodies. His fingers toyed with one of her hair extensions—could he tell it was fake? He tilted his head to the side to avoid bumping her face with the brim of his hat. Then he kissed her.

Sweet mercy.

The intensity of his kiss curled her toes—pure unadulterated hot, ferocious need. His mouth moved over hers with purpose, and his tongue left no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. She pressed herself against him and buried her hands in his hair, knocking his hat off. Her body had a will of its own and she rubbed the heel of her cowboy boot against the back of his calf.

When he ended the kiss, Beth gasped for air. If things went no further between them than a hot, lusty kiss in the parking lot, she’d go home a satisfied woman. Even so, tonight was about moving on with her life.

“The El Rancho Motel is a few miles from here.” The lodge was located near the neighborhood where she and Brad had bought their house.

Mack tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and the gentle gesture tweaked her heart. “You want to follow me in your car or take my truck?”

“I’ll follow.” There was no reason to give him the impression that she wanted more than a one-night stand. If all went as planned, she’d be gone before he woke in the morning.

He bent over and grabbed his hat off the ground.

She nodded to the white Lexus and he grasped her hand and walked her to the car, then waited for her to sit in the driver’s seat. “Are you sure?” His mouth hovered so close to hers, she could feel his breath.

“Very sure.” She brushed her lips over his and he groaned.

“Drive safe.” He shut the door.

Never in Beth’s thirty-one years had she envisioned herself going to a motel with a complete stranger.

Mack isn’t really a stranger. He was a popular local musician, and her gut insisted she had nothing to worry about.

Then again her gut had gotten it wrong with Brad.


Chapter One (#ulink_691b14f0-148d-50a9-aa77-21ef0c582fc1)

“Damned tractor broke down again.” Mack’s brother Conway entered the bunkhouse and removed a bottled water from the fridge.

“Thought you finished harvesting the pecans last week,” Porter said.

“I’ve got a few acres left.” Conway nodded to Mack, juggling fruit. “What’s he up to?”

“Merle Haggard is getting ready to run off and join the circus.”

“Real funny.” Mack caught the pieces of fruit and glared at his brothers. If he wasn’t tied in knots over Just Beth he might challenge Porter to a scuffle after being called by his proper name.

Grandma Ada had insisted that their mother name all her sons after country-and-western legends because she loved their music. Mack didn’t buy the story. No matter what any of his siblings thought, he believed his mother had been dropped on her head as a baby, leaving her judgment permanently impaired. He and his brother Willie Nelson had taken nicknames after they’d entered kindergarten, and the teasing led to playground fights and weekly trips to the principal’s office.

“Can you guys be serious for a minute?” Mack asked.

“Sure,” his brothers answered in unison.

Porter Wagoner was still single like Mack, and Conway Twitty, who everyone had believed would remain single the longest, had been the second Cash brother to marry. He was already the father of six-year-old twins with another set on the way early next month. Maybe Mack should talk to his eldest brother, who always gave sound advice. “Never mind. I’ll stop by Johnny’s before I head out of town.”

“Johnny and Shannon are in Payson at a rodeo,” Conway said. “They took little Addy up there to show her off to Shannon’s friends.”

Fine. “You guys ever have a one-night stand with a woman you could swear isn’t a one-night-stand woman?”

The brothers exchanged puzzled glances then Porter spoke. “What are you talking about?”

Mack set the apples and orange in a bowl and paced in front of the TV. “I met this woman at the Number 10 Saloon last month before Christmas when the band was playing a gig there.”

“And you went back to her place after the bar closed,” Porter said.

“Am I telling this story or are you?” Mack asked.

Porter held up his hands. “Sorry.”

“So we make eye contact and—” Mack pointed his finger when Porter opened his mouth “—the sparks are there. We go to a motel—”

“Which one?” Conway asked.

“Does it matter?” Mack scowled. “We’re at the motel and while we’re becoming acquainted and...stuff, I get this feeling that she’s not really who she is. You know what I mean?”

“No,” his brothers echoed.

Frustrated, Mack shoved his fingers through his hair. “She dressed like a buckle bunny, but she drank red wine.” And she drove a Lexus.

“I’ve never dated a girl who liked wine,” Porter said.

Conway scrunched his brow. “Come to think of it, neither have I. The girls I dated drank beer.”

“Did you search for her on Google?” Porter asked.

“I’m not a stalker,” Mack said.

“What’s her name?” Porter asked. “Maybe I know her.”

“Beth.”

“Beth what?”

“Just Beth.”

Porter and Conway exchanged glances. “Did you get her number?” Conway asked.

Mack’s face burned and Porter hooted. “She wouldn’t give you her number, would she?”

“No.”

“There are hundreds of women who’d fall all over themselves to date a musician,” Conway said. “Why are you preoccupied with a one-night stand?”

Mack opened his mouth then thought twice about telling his brothers the truth—they’d laugh him out of the bunkhouse. “Never mind.” He grabbed the duffel bag he’d filled with clean clothes. “I’d better get going.”

“Isi’s put a roast in the oven,” Conway said. “Stay for supper. The twins would love to throw the football with you.”

That was another thing that bugged Mack—his sister-in-law had taken the last single Cash brothers under her wing after Buck had married Destiny and moved to Lizard Gulch. When Mack had learned that Isi had lost her brothers at a young age, he’d grudgingly accepted her hovering. Meddling women aside, the dude ranch was an hour’s drive from the farm, and there was nothing between here and there but a dilapidated ice house that sold year-old beer and stale snacks. “I guess I could eat before I take off.”

“Good.” Conway headed for the door. “Porter, you’re washing the dishes tonight.”

“What are you going to do?” Porter trailed Conway outside.

“Work on the tractor.”

“You’re always tinkering with the tractor.” Porter’s voice filtered through the open windows. “I don’t think there’s a damn thing wrong with the engine. You just don’t like doing household chores.”

“You ever try to help a woman who’s eight months pregnant?” Conway’s voice began to fade. “It’s like facing a charging bull...”

Once his brothers were out of earshot, Mack closed his eyes and envisioned his body entwined with Beth’s. He’d had a one-night stand with a woman named Just Beth at the El Rancho Motel.

There was no doubt in his mind that he’d pleased Beth, but there had been something off about her behavior—almost as if going to a motel with a man had been a first for her. When she’d snuggled against his side after they’d made love, he’d wondered if maybe he was ready to settle down.

Except Beth wasn’t what he was looking for in a wife—he wanted a girl-next-door type. She was a woman who went to a motel with a man she’d met only hours earlier. Before he’d fallen asleep, he’d asked for her number but she’d refused to give it to him—a first for him. Her rejection had left him with an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

Why the heck did it bother him that Beth didn’t want to see him again? Was he losing his touch with the ladies? Mack popped off the bed, took his duffel and left the bunkhouse.

“Uncle Mack!” Conway’s son Javier raced toward him, his brother, Miguel, hot on his heels.

Mack set the bag in the truck bed. “Where’s Bandit?” Mack scanned the yard but the dog was nowhere in sight.

“He’s in the house.” Javier squeezed Mack’s thigh. “How come you’re never here anymore?”

He ruffled the dark mop of hair. “’Cause my job is far away.” He broke free, walked over to the porch steps and picked up the Nerf football. “Who wants the first pass?” Before he had his arm cocked to throw, Miguel took off. He tossed the ball, but the kid missed.

“Javi’s up next, Mig.”

“Don’t throw it too hard, Uncle Mack.” The boy ran with his head down—an athlete he was not.

“Here it comes, Javi!” The ball smacked him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Mack hurried across the yard, worried he’d hurt his nephew. “You okay, Javi?”

“I think so.”

“Hey, Javi—” Miguel sat next to his brother “—you almost caught that.”

“I know.” Javi got to his feet and the brothers exchanged a silent message.

Mack glanced between the boys. “What’s going on?”

Mig nodded to Javi then both boys tackled Mack to the ground. A scuffle ensued and they rolled in the dirt, laughing. Mack made a big show of accepting defeat, and the boys straddled his chest and pumped their fists in the air.

The porch door opened, and Conway hollered for them to come eat. The twins scampered away, leaving Mack staring at the blue sky. He and his siblings had grown up without fathers—their grandfather had been their only male role model. Mack had been surprised when his brothers had begun having babies of their own, but after watching Johnny, Conway and Will interact with their kids, Mack had decided just because his father had wanted nothing to do with him didn’t mean he couldn’t be a good father himself.

He crawled off the ground and brushed at his clothes. Time to quit moping over Just Beth. January had ushered in a New Year and a new resolution to refocus his efforts on finding a woman he could build a life with.

* * *

“I HOPE THESE accommodations work for you, Beth.” Dave Paxton, the owner of the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch twirled his cowboy hat on his finger and tapped the toe of his boot against the tile floor Monday afternoon.

“This will do fine, Mr. Paxton. I appreciate you letting me stay here until I figure out what to do.” The ranch owner and Beth’s father had been former college roommates at Sacramento State.

“Call me Dave.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear about your divorce. I doubt your father’s too pleased with Brad.”

“Actually, Mr.... I mean, Dave...” She dropped her gaze, hating herself for feeling embarrassed when she had nothing to be ashamed of—she hadn’t done the cheating. “I haven’t told my parents yet.”

“Why not?”

Beth didn’t know if her father had told Dave about her mother’s breast cancer scare, so she didn’t go into detail. “Mom’s been having a few health issues lately and I’m waiting for the right time to tell her.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s doing fine now.” Beth’s mother had two biopsies and had finished radiation treatment right after Thanksgiving. With her mom still weak from treatment, Beth had wanted to wait until she was stronger before spilling the beans about her failed marriage.

“Your parents have no idea you’re staying at the ranch.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Once I figure things out, I’ll make a trip home and talk to them.” It was the second week of January and she hoped to decide on a game plan for her future by the end of the month. “I’m more than happy to pay for the use of my cabin.”

“I don’t want your money, but there is a favor you can do for me while you’re here.”

“Sure, anything.”

“I’d like you to take a look at my retirement portfolio. It hasn’t made as much money as I’d hoped the past few years, and I’m wondering if I need to change investment firms.”

“I’d be more than happy to give you my opinion.”

His silver head bobbed. “Good.” He grew quiet, his attention drawn to the window. The ranch owner had been distracted from the moment Beth had arrived.

“Is there something the matter?” she asked.

“Millie walked off the job a few days ago.”

“Who’s Millie?”

“The housekeeper.” His face turned ruddy. “Millie and I have been courting for about a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

His fingers tightened against the brim of his hat. “We’ve had disagreements before but it’s not like her to leave me high and dry.”

The ranch housekeeper hadn’t been the only one left high and dry. Beth’s home had sold within a week of going on the market in mid-December, and she’d had to scramble to put her belongings in storage and find a place to live. Not only had she been forced out of her home, but she’d been forced out of her job. She hadn’t been fired, but how on earth could she work for the woman who was about to give birth any day to her ex-husband’s baby?

Needing a temporary place to live and lick her wounds, Beth had perused apartment listings when she’d remembered that her father’s college buddy managed a dude ranch. Her parents had visited the retreat in the past but Beth had never gone along with them—horseback riding wasn’t her thing—but a ranch was the perfect place to hole up and not have to worry about running into her ex and former boss while she contemplated her future. Besides, if she’d remained in town, she’d have been tempted to drop in at the Number 10 Saloon and ask Mack Cash if he was up for a second go-round with her.

“You’re frowning,” Dave said. “Don’t you like your accommodations?”

“No, the cabin is perfect.” The place had all the essentials—a TV, queen-size bed, love seat, chair and a private bathroom. The best part of the cabin was the covered porch that offered a stunning view of Black Jack Canyon. “If you don’t hear from Millie soon, what will you do?”

“Start interviewing new housekeepers.” He walked to the door. “C’mon, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

Unpacking would have to wait. She left her purse on the bed next to the suitcase then locked the cabin door and accompanied Dave along the stone path that broke off from the main walkway used by the guests. “How many employees do you have?”

“Two full-time workers and three part-time. You’ll meet them at supper.” He glanced at Beth. “You’re welcome to take your meals in your cabin, but the cowboys are expected to eat with our guests.” Dave smiled. “Folks like to listen to their tall tales.”

Cowboys. Beth would never hear that word again without thinking of Mack. Even now—thirty-four days after their night at the El Rancho Motel—she couldn’t get his image out of her head. She didn’t understand how a few hours with an almost complete stranger had left a lasting impression on her. First on the get-her-life-back-in-order list was to forget Mack.

Dave stopped at the adobe cantina and held the door open for her. “This used to be an old mission outpost for Jesuit priests several centuries ago.”

Beth spun in a slow circle, taking in the plastered walls and dark wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling. A large fireplace took up a good portion of the room and resting on its mantel were portraits of Spanish matadors. A pair of sofas and chairs covered in cowhide sat near the fireplace. “It’s beautiful.”

“This was the main room of the mission. The third owners of the guest ranch converted it into a saloon and a dance hall.”

“Wow, this place is full of history.”

“There’s information about the ranch in the guest packet in your cabin.”

“How many owners has the ranch had?” Beth asked.

“Seven. The land that the ranch sits on used to be part of a three-million-acre grant from the King of Spain to the Ortiz brothers of Mexico.”

“How long ago was that?”

“1812. The Gadsden Purchase was signed in 1854, determining the border between Mexico and the United States and the ranch fell inside the U.S. boundaries.”

“Who got the land after that?” she asked.

“Former Union Colonel William Sturgis bought the property and renovated the mission. When the Mexican Revolution came, Pancho Villa fired on the main house.”

“By main house you mean the building with the lobby and dining room?”

He nodded. “You’ll see the cannonball embedded in the stucco wall when we go inside the building.”

She wandered closer to the bar and ran her hand over the horse-saddle seats. “Cute idea for stools.”

“There have been a lot of famous guests at this ranch over the years.”

“Politicians or actors?”

“A few of both. Author Margaret Mitchell wintered at the ranch and Zane Gray also wrote here.”

Beth found the information fascinating. “Any presidents?”

“Franklin Roosevelt and Lyndon B. Johnson. We’ve had a couple of ranch guests through the years report seeing an apparition in this room. You’ll let me know if you spot one, won’t you?”

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said. Seriously—she majored in business and math in college. She possessed an analytical brain. Logic, not emotion, ruled her actions and decisions, which was probably why she couldn’t put her night with Mack behind her. She’d acted out of character—normally she dealt with facts not feelings—but the country-western singer had broken down her barriers and reached a touchy-feely place inside her that she hadn’t known existed.

“We’re empty right now, but we’re full up on the weekend.” He walked to the door. “Be sure to take advantage of your stay and go horseback riding.”

“I’ve never been horseback riding.”

When they stepped outside, Dave said, “One of our trail hands will give you lessons.”

Beth couldn’t imagine herself riding a horse. Then again she’d never envisioned herself entering a motel room with a stranger.

There was a first time for everything.

* * *

“NEED HELP WITH THAT, HOSS?” Mack stepped into the barn late Sunday afternoon and caught the retired rodeo clown struggling with a wheelbarrow full of soiled hay.

“Best get out of my way unless you want a pile of road apples fallin’ on yer fancy boots.”

When Mack had taken the job at the dude ranch, the sixty-five-year-old Hoss had been the first employee his boss had introduced him to. The surly man had made it clear the barn was his domain.

Mack stopped in front of Speckles’s stall and rubbed the horse’s nose. Hoss had been granted the privilege of naming the trail horses—big mistake. The geezer had named the geldings after rodeo clowns—Bim Bom, Coco, Potato, Bubbles, Doink, Flunky, Pooter, Zig and Zag. The only decent name in the whole group was Warrior, and he’d come with the ranch when Dave Paxton had purchased the place ten years ago. “Anything exciting happen here this weekend?”

“Millie ran off.” Hoss pushed the wheelbarrow into another stall then took a break.

“What do you mean she ran off?”

“Just up ’n’ left.” Hoss sat on a hay bale and drank from the water bottle he pulled out of the back pocket of his sagging Wranglers. After guzzling half the liquid he belched. “Didn’t leave no note. Nothin’.”

Mack knew the feeling. He’d woken alone in bed the morning after at the El Rancho Motel. Beth had left while he’d been asleep—the scent of her perfume on the bed sheets the only evidence she’d been there.

“What’s the boss going to do?” Mack asked. “He’s got that group of businessmen coming in from New York on Friday.”

“He was givin’ a gal a tour of the place earlier.” Hoss shrugged. “Maybe she’s the new housekeeper.”

“Let’s hope.” Mack was willing to do a lot of things at the dude ranch, but he refused to change bedsheets. “How’s the boss taking it?” Everyone knew Dave and Millie were sleeping together.

“He doesn’t say much, but I figure he’s hurtin’.” Hoss spit tobacco juice at the ground. “Can’t never trust a woman. They ain’t ever who you think they are.”

Hoss was speaking from experience. His wife had left him years ago when Hoss was still rodeoing. Heartbroken, Hoss rode the circuit, leaving his sixteen-year-old son home alone to fend for himself. At eighteen his son had joined the military and Hoss hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

“Maybe Millie will return in a few days. Might have been a family thing.”

“Millie ain’t got no family.” Hoss stood, the old bones in his bowlegged hips creaking.

“Wait here.” Mack rolled the wheelbarrow out of the horse stall.

“Get yer hands off my damned horse shit.”

“Settle down, old man, before you work yourself into a heart attack.” Mack wheeled the ’barrow out a side door and dumped the soiled hay into a compost pile behind the barn. When he returned, he caught Hoss rubbing his twisted fingers and knobby knuckles—leftover souvenirs from his rodeo career.

Hoss grabbed the ’barrow. “You competin’ in the Rattlesnake Rodeo at the end of the month?”

The Rattlesnake Rodeo raised money for the only medical clinic in Rattlesnake, Arizona. The closest town with a hospital was four hours west in Tucson. The residents of Rattlesnake depended on the clinic for most of their medical needs. “Yeah, I’ll probably enter.”

“Yer brothers gonna ride, too?”

“Don’t know. Except for me and Porter, they’re all married now and busy with their families.”

“Might find a wife at the rodeo.” Hoss snorted as he pitched soiled hay into the barrow.

“Sorry, Hoss. No buckle bunnies for me.” When Mack married, he wanted a down-home girl. Beth’s face flashed before his eyes... Why did she have to be like the other women who came to his concerts and just wanted a piece of him? Mack had dreamed of being a musician all his life, but lately the warning be careful what you wish for rang through his brain far too often.

He was tired of loose women fawning over him. He was twenty-nine and he’d made a promise to himself that by his thirtieth birthday he’d have found his forever woman.

That wasn’t going to happen if he couldn’t forget his one-night stand with Just Beth.


Chapter Two (#ulink_de314c9a-fdaf-5948-a3de-62b713f2b925)

An hour ago Dave had informed Mack that a guest—the daughter of a former college buddy—wanted a horseback-riding lesson. He checked his watch. She should be here any moment. Mack made sure the saddle on Speckles fit snug in case the horse decided to sprint after a desert jackrabbit. The mare’s spirited personality made her his favorite.

“You behave on the trail, you hear?” Speckles’s ears twitched and he rubbed the animal’s nose. “No showing off in front of Warrior.”

Speckles and Warrior had a love-hate relationship. Warrior developed a crush on Speckles the day she’d arrived at the ranch, but Speckles acted as if she couldn’t be bothered with the old gelding. Mack checked his watch again. “C’mon, lady. Where are you?”

“Right here.”

He spun, opening his mouth to apologize. The words evaporated on his tongue when the blood drained from the woman’s face, leaving her skin as white as Elmer’s school paste. Worried she’d faint, he stepped forward but she hastily retreated. If she toppled over, he hoped she hit her head on the edge of a hay bale and not the concrete floor.

Eyes wide, she gaped at him. He must remind her of someone—maybe a dead someone. Her lips parted then pressed closed as if her voice, along with her blood, had drained from her body. Since conversation appeared to be at a standstill he studied her, zeroing in on her mouth. When he noticed the faint scar next to her lower lip, his scalp prickled.

Her brown eyes were the same shape as...and her nose was as straight as... No. She was missing the butterfly eyelashes and long hair. His gaze trailed down her body, stalling on her breasts. Heat spread through his gut.

It couldn’t be...

“Hello, Mack.”

Just Beth? No frickin’ way.

Of all the places he’d imagined running into the woman who’d snuck off to a motel with him a month ago, the dude ranch had never been one of them. “What are you doing here?”

She blinked as if in a daze. “I didn’t know you worked at the ranch.”

No kidding. If she had, she wouldn’t have booked a cabin here. “You’re a tough lady to find.” There. He admitted he’d been looking for her. Now the ball was in her court.

She waved a hand in front of her face—her nails were short and there was no trace of the bold, red polish. Gone, too, were the dangling earrings and sparkly eye shadow. Beth wore no makeup—except for the pink shine on her lips. The woman standing before him had nothing in common with the sexy siren he’d met at the Number 10 Saloon.

“You’re busy,” she said. “I’ll come back later.”

Like hell she would. “Stay.” He wasn’t letting her off the hook that easy. “The horses are already saddled.” He led Speckles from her stall, then took Warrior’s reins and escorted the animals out of the barn. He stopped next to the horse trough and cupped his hands near Warrior’s stirrup. “Put your left foot in here and swing your right leg over the saddle.”

Beth hesitated then edged closer and grasped the pummel. When she lifted her leg, he moved his hands beneath her shoe and hoisted her—a little too hard. She pitched forward and he grasped her waist, his fingers biting into her flesh to prevent her from sailing over Warrior’s head.

She rocked back, her rump hitting the saddle hard. Warrior shifted in surprise. Wanting to be certain she’d regained her balance, he tightened his hold on her, but she took exception to his touch and attempted to twist free. She teetered toward the opposite side and Mack reached for her shoulder, but his hand landed on her breast—a mound of soft flesh his fingers were intimately familiar with.

A jolt of electricity zapped his body, triggering a flashback of their night in the motel. She made eye contact and the heat in her gaze sent a second shockwave through him. She was a live wire.

Without speaking he hopped on Speckles, took Warrior’s reins and guided the horses to the trailhead. They rode in silence. With each passing minute, Mack’s frustration mounted. He led the horses off the trail toward a shallow water hole.

“Where are we going?”

The tremor in Beth’s voice convinced him that the bold, gutsy lady he’d met at the bar had been an imposter. “The horses need to rest.”

She lifted an eyebrow but didn’t challenge him. He hopped off Speckles then dropped the reins on the ground. The mare wandered to the water’s edge and drank. “Would you like help getting down?”

“No. I’ll wait here until your horse is ready to go.”

“My horse isn’t going to leave until you and I talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest and a stare-down ensued.

“Mack.” Beth’s eyes pleaded with him. “Do we have to discuss that night?”

Ouch. That she wanted to forget the most amazing few hours of his life hurt way more than a nasty fall off a rank bronc. “You owe me a few answers.”

Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Amused by her stubbornness, he asked, “What’s your real name?”

With a resigned huff she yanked her foot from the stirrup and slid off Warrior. As soon as her feet hit the dirt, the horse walked to the pond for a drink. “Beth Richards.” She jutted her chin as if daring him to challenge her again.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me your last name the night we—”

“Because I never planned on seeing you again.”

“You’re not married, are you?”

“Not anymore.”

Startled, he asked, “Were you married when we—”

“I signed the divorce papers earlier in the day before I showed up at the bar.”

“So you were celebrating your divorce that night?”

“Yes.”

His stomach knotted. Why was he upset that Beth had used him? He’d approached her in the bar. He’d been the one to invite her to go off with him later that night. Maybe that was the problem—he couldn’t reconcile the Beth on horseback with the Beth at the Number 10. “Why the getup?”

“Getup?”

“Fancy clothes, heavy makeup and long hair? You looked like all the other buckle bunnies in the bar.”

She gestured to herself. “I doubt you would have left with me if I’d walked into the place looking like...me.”

Was she kidding?

She dropped her gaze but not before he saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “The horses are done drinking.”

The horses could wait. He still had a few questions. “Was everything a lie that night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you worked at an investment firm.”

“I did.”

“You quit your husband and you quit your job?”

Her head snapped up. “I didn’t quit my husband. He quit me. As for the job, I didn’t have any other choice but to quit.”

His question had visibly upset her. “What are you doing here? Hiding from an abusive ex?”

“Brad’s not like that. He’s too wrapped up in his ego to bother making my life miserable.”

Mack was relieved she hadn’t been mistreated by her ex. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here at the ranch.”

“I needed a place to catch my breath after the divorce.”

“You could have caught your breath in Cancún or Belize. Black Jack Mountain?”

“My parents are friends with Dave. They’ve visited the ranch several times but I never have.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a good place to relax and make plans for the future.”

Plans for a future that obviously didn’t include him.

“Mack, I’m sorry. I thought you were just a singer in a local band. You never mentioned working at a dude ranch.”

He kicked a rock across the ground and cursed. He’d brought up his job after they’d made love, but evidently she hadn’t been listening. Maybe he was better off not knowing what that night was all about for her. Obviously, she hadn’t been as wowed by the sex as he had or she’d have tried to contact him after she left the motel.

He fetched the horses. “How long are you staying?” He might have to find a new job if she intended to hide in her guest cabin indefinitely.

“I don’t know.” She placed her foot in his hands. “I guess until I figure out where I want to move.”

She was leaving—that killed any possibility of the two of them starting over. He helped her onto Warrior, then mounted Speckles and clicked his tongue. He could tolerate Beth’s presence until she made plans for the future—if not, he was in big trouble.

* * *

THREE DAYS HAD PASSED since Beth had discovered Mack was an employee at the dude ranch—how they’d managed to avoid each other was a miracle in and of itself. Then again, she’d taken all her meals in her cabin to increase her odds of not crossing paths with the cowboy. Nights were another story. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Beth’s mind raced with thoughts of Mack. And when she finally drifted off, visions of their night in the motel plagued her sleep, and each morning she woke emotionally exhausted.

Twice she’d walked down the path to Dave’s office to thank him for the use of the cabin and notify him that she was leaving. But her feet had a mind of their own and she’d ended up meandering away from main ranch quarters as she was doing right now. She stopped at the entrance to the barn then glanced at the parking lot. Mack’s truck was missing among the vehicles. Maybe she’d sneak inside and visit the horses.

“Hoss?” She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

“In the storage room.”

She passed by the empty stalls, the scent of fresh hay and grain surprisingly pleasant. “I thought I’d visit the horses but—”

“Jake let ’em out to graze.”

She exhaled quietly.

“You bored, missy?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Mind if I ask a personal question?”

Other than introducing themselves, she and Hoss hadn’t exchanged more than a “thank you” or “you’re welcome” all week. “Sure.”

“What’s goin’ on between you ’n’ Mack?”

Had Mack mentioned their one-night stand to the ranch hand? “Nothing. Why?”

“You don’t eat in the dining hall with the rest of us.”

“I’ve been working right through dinner.” That was partially true. One day this week she searched the internet for employment opportunities while she ate her supper.

Hoss’s rheumy eyes latched on to her and she worried he could see clear through to her soul. “Mack hasn’t cracked a joke all week.” He removed a towel from the shelf and wiped his hands. “Acts like a man who’s—”

“Hoss, don’t you have better things to do than bother the guests?”

Mack lounged in the doorway as if he didn’t have a care in the world. How long had he been standing there?

“Guess I’ll take a few carrots out to the horses.” Hoss left the room, his shuffling footsteps echoing through the barn.

Mack unnerved Beth. She hadn’t seen this serious side of him the night they’d met. Then he blinked and for a split second she saw a wounded look in his eyes before it vanished.

“Wait.” Could it be that he’d asked for her number because their night at the motel had been more than just sex for him? Beth’s heart raced with hope...then dread.

You’re not the Beth he took to the motel room.

She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. That night had been the worst-best mistake of her life. “Mack, this isn’t going to work.”

He glanced up, his brown eyes devoid of emotion. “What are you talking about?”

“Us...together at the ranch.” She scuffed the toe of her athletic shoe against the floor. “I’ll tell Dave that I’m leaving in the morning.”

“You don’t have to go.”

“But you don’t want me here.” She’d find some other place to hole up. Maybe even return to the El Rancho Motel and rent the same room she and Mack had slept in. It would serve her right after going off the deep end and celebrating her divorce with a night of hot sex with a stranger. That ingenious plan sure had backfired.

“You’re right,” he said. “But this is Dave’s ranch. He can invite whoever he wants here. Even women I’ve had sex with.”

Beth’s gut twisted. “I can explain...” I think.

“No need. I get it. You were out for sex and—”

She gasped.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be so crude,” she said.

“I call it like I see it. You dolled yourself up then set your sights on me. After you got what you wanted, you walked away without a backward glance.”

Miffed, she planted her hands on her hips. “And I see it like this... You approached me in the bar and unlike my husband, I at least waited for my divorce to become final before I took a walk on the wild side.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the reason I dolled myself up was because men like you never give women like me a second glance.”

“What are you talking about?”

She spread her arms wide. “When it comes to passion and desire I’m no man’s fantasy.”

“You don’t think very highly of yourself.”

She would have fled, if her only escape route hadn’t been blocked by six feet of wide-shouldered cowboy. “I think we should—”

“Pretend that night never happened.”

Forgetting her evening with Mack was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t dare tell him that unless she cared to keep torturing herself.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll act as if we never met before.”

Beth didn’t know if he was serious or if his bruised ego was talking. Ego aside, how were they supposed to act as if they were strangers—they’d touched and kissed each other in places strangers wouldn’t dare.

He thrust his hand toward her. Warily she placed her fingers on his callused palm. Her chest tightened at the tiny electrical pulses that skittered up her arm. Now she knew she hadn’t imagined that sensation the night in the motel—only it hadn’t been their hands rubbing together that had created the electrifying feeling.

His fingers folded over her hand and squeezed gently. “Mack Cash. I’m from Stagecoach and I work as a wrangler at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch. I also play in a country-and-western band called the Cowboy Rebels.”

He wasn’t joking. “I’m Beth Richards and I used to work for Biker and Donavan as an investment counselor. I’m recently divorced and in the process of deciding whether or not I want to remain in Yuma or move away.”

The corner of Mack’s mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile. “Nice to meet you, Beth. I hope we can be friends.”

This was foolish, but she was at a loss when it came to Mack. “Same here.”

He released her hand and she resisted curling her fingers into her palm to trap his warmth from escaping. He tipped his hat then left the storage room. Mack strolled through the barn, forcing one foot in front of the other until he stepped into the sun.

“You ’n’ that filly set things straight?”

“It’s none of your business, Hoss.” He hated shutting the old man out but Mack was too confused about his feelings for Beth. Until he knew exactly what he felt for her, he didn’t care for anyone’s advice.

“I don’t think Millie’ll be back.”

“Millie has it good with the boss.” Even though there was a ten-year age difference between the housekeeper and sixty-eight-year-old Dave Paxton, when Mack had seen the couple together, they’d appeared happy.

“So you don’t wanna talk about that missy in the barn, eh?” Hoss said.

“Nope.”

“She’s watchin’ us right now.”

Mack stiffened but didn’t check over his shoulder. “You won’t quit nagging unless you know everything, will you?”

“Figure it’s only a matter of time before you spill your guts.”

“I met Beth at a bar last month. At least I think it was Beth.”

“You ain’t sure?”

“She was all sexed up and on the prowl.”

“You didn’t take advantage of that poor gal, did you?”

Mack scowled. If anyone had been taken advantage of, it had been him. Now that a few weeks had passed and Mack had reflected on that night, he admitted that he’d genuinely liked Beth—probably because she hadn’t acted like any buckle bunny he’d been out with before. She hadn’t been drunk, boisterous or even giggly. And when he’d looked into her eyes there had been intelligence and maturity—qualities that had been missing from the other sloe-eyed beauties he’d hooked up with in the past. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” Hoss asked.

“There was something different about her, and when the evening ended I asked for her number.”

“She didn’t give it to you.”

“Nope.”

When Hoss grinned, Mack growled. “What the hell’s so funny?”

“She’s the first lady who hasn’t succumbed to your cowboy charm.”

“Succumbed? You’re using pretty big words, Hoss.”

“Whatcha gonna do?”

“Nothing.” Beth made it clear that she wasn’t interested in cozying up with him during her stay at the dude ranch.

“You gonna let a decent woman like her get away without a fight?”

“If she was so decent, she wouldn’t have pretended to be someone she wasn’t.”

“Maybe she had a good reason.”

Lack of self-confidence wasn’t good enough in Mack’s book. And it didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t wanted him to contact her after they’d had fun at the motel. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Change her mind.”

“What’s with you?” Mack frowned. “Why do you care about my love life?”

“’Cause you’ve been a big mope lately.”

“A man can take a moment to think, can’t he?”

“He can.” Hoss spat tobacco juice on the ground. “But there’s a time for thinkin’ and a time for doin’.” He nodded to the barn. “This is a time for doin’.”

Doing what? Mack was so dang confused right now he didn’t know which way was up or down. He was pissed at Beth for using him, and even though she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in extending their one-night stand, the gnawing in his gut insisted he still wanted to be with her.

So where did that leave him?

Between being a fool and an idiot.


Chapter Three (#ulink_e5a8c63a-8f76-5c42-b165-7573a8df0692)

“Fine. We’ll pretend we’ve never met before.” Beth mimicked Mack’s deep voice as she hiked along the walking path.

She was at a loss as to how to deal with the country-and-western cowboy. She’d never had a male friend and found the idea intriguing, but Mack wasn’t the kind of man a woman could be friends with—not after she’d seen and touched every inch of his naked flesh.

She conjured up a likeness of him lounging in the motel bed and...

“Look out!”

Startled, Beth stopped walking and glanced up. Good Lord, another few steps and she would have collided with a saguaro cactus. She turned and discovered Mack standing several yards behind her—he’d sneaked up on her without making a sound. “I was hiking.” Duh. Hoping to distract him so he wouldn’t ask why she’d almost walked into a cactus, she said, “It’s warm today.”

He closed the gap between them. “The weatherman forecasted unseasonably warm temps until the end of next week.”

“Well, eighty-five degrees in January is too hot, even for Arizona.” Why were they discussing the weather? Because that’s what friends do. Flustered, she focused on the canyon in the distance and ignored the sultry scent of his cologne.

“Dave wanted me to tell you that we’re taking Roger Kline and his executives on a horseback ride and eating supper on the trail. José left with the chuck wagon a few minutes ago. Since there won’t be a formal meal in the dining room, you’re invited to join us.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to interfere in an all-guys outing.” She’d met the CEO of Kline Properties and his minions when they’d moved into the cabins next to hers.

Mack took off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair—hair that had felt silky to the touch when she’d held his head steady while she’d kissed him. “I’m bringing my guitar along.”

After parting ways last month, Beth had listened to country-and-western radio stations, hoping to find a singer whose voice reminded her of Mack’s, but none of them had carried a tune quite like the lead singer of the Cowboy Rebels.

“C’mon, Beth. You’ve barricaded yourself inside your cabin every night this week.”

Barricaded? She’d hoped that by keeping to herself, her infatuation with him would wear off. The way her heart pounded right now indicated that her plan had failed. To be honest, she was tired of staring at the same four walls. What could it hurt to socialize with the ranch guests for a couple of hours? And she’d also like to hear Mack sing again.

“Okay. I’ll join the group for supper.”

His smile sucked the air out of her lungs. Was he really that pleased she’d agreed to go? No, he’s just being friendly. He put on his hat and walked off.

This friends thing bugged the heck out of Beth. Although tempting, a friendship with Mack Cash would be a bad investment. She’d give their companionship all her effort and energy but in the end she’d be left alone.

Beth returned to her cabin and showered. Deciding what to wear was easy. She’d packed jeans she’d purchased years ago—the denim wasn’t as fancy as the pair she’d worn to the Number 10—no bling—but they were comfortable and she could sit on a horse in them. Besides, looking sexy was way down on her list of priorities, as was picking up men or picking up where she and Mack had left off.

Her first priority was figuring out which direction her life was headed.

* * *

“THESE ARE THE BEST damned beans I’ve eaten in years.” Roger Kline glanced at Beth. “Pardon my swearing, ma’am.”

“No worries.” Beth smiled.

“José’s the finest ranch cook in southern Arizona,” Mack said.

“He sure is quiet.” Gerald, a balding man with a potbelly, helped himself to more beans.

When Mack hired on at the dude ranch, Dave had informed him that José didn’t know a word of English, but Mack sensed the camp cook understood more than he let on. Mack sat on a log in front of the fire and shoveled another forkful of barbecue into his mouth, while he watched Beth out of the corner of his eye. At first he was glad she hadn’t backed out of the group supper—he’d wanted to prove to himself that after a one-night stand they could still be friends. But now he regretted her presence.

He’d been positive he’d had it all figured out—why Beth had stuck in his craw after only one night together. For the past year, Mack had been losing interest in playing the field—hot dates with hot chicks was becoming old, but he hadn’t found a woman he’d consider dating exclusively. When Beth had waltzed into the bar, he’d assumed she was another hot chick.

Not until they’d slept together had he realized there was something different about her—an innocence that hadn’t matched her clothes, hair or makeup. When he’d held her in his arms, he’d sensed she wasn’t at all like the other women he’d been with. He’d wanted to get to know Beth better, but he’d woken the next morning alone in the motel room. It had been a hell of a blow to his ego that she’d left without a goodbye.

He’d sat on the edge of the bed feeling disenchanted with the singles scene. His thirtieth birthday was eight months away and he’d hoped by then to be with a woman who would stand by his side through thick and thin. A woman he could build a home with. Have a family with. Grow old with.

He’d left the motel that morning determined to find his forever girl but he hadn’t been able to forget Beth and her dolled-up image. And now he knew why he’d been so torn over her—Beth Richards was no buckle bunny. She was a forever girl who’d fallen off the wagon for one night.

Right then Beth laughed at one of the guest’s jokes and Mack’s gut churned with anger—mostly at himself. She’d used him and had made it clear she wasn’t interested in pursuing a long-term relationship, but damned if he still didn’t want her.

And that pissed him off.

“You gonna play a song for us, Mack, or sit there and scowl at the fire?” Dave asked.

“Sorry.” Mack bolted from the log and reached for his guitar. “You caught me thinking.”

“Judging by the look on your face,” Dave said, “you’ve either got money troubles or woman troubles.”

The men laughed while Beth scraped her beans into a neat little pile on her tin plate.

“How about a Garth Brooks song.” Mack strummed a few notes of “Cowboy Bill” then belted out the lyrics, his mixed emotions about Beth lending strength to his voice. He didn’t have to look at her to know she paid attention—the side of his face burned from her stare.

Ted, the eldest of Kline’s executives, sang along, and the other men slapped their thighs in rhythm to the music until the final verse.

Gerald clapped loudly and whistled between his teeth. “You’ve got quite a voice, Mack Cash.”

“Is it true,” Al said, “your mother named you after Merle Haggard?”

Mack shot Dave a dark look and his boss held up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me.”

“Jake mentioned it when he took us skeet shooting the other day,” Al said.

Fortunately for Jake, he had the weekend off or Mack would make the wrangler pay. “It’s true. My five brothers and I all got saddled with famous monikers.”

“His eldest brother is Johnny Cash,” Dave said.

The executives laughed then Roger spoke. “Is Cash your real surname?”

“Cash was my mother’s maiden name. She never married any of our fathers.”

“Fathers?” Paul, the quietest in the group joined the conversation.

“Each of my brothers has a different father, so my mother put her surname on our birth certificates.”

“What are the names of your infamous brothers?” Roger asked.

“Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Buck Owens, Conway Twitty and Porter Wagoner.”

Al shook his head. “I bet it was tough to live down those handles when you were young.”

“You’d bet right.” Mack grinned. “Johnny stood up for us until we were old enough to fight our own battles.”

“Are you the only singer in the family?” Ted asked.

“Yep. Johnny’s the foreman of his father-in-law’s ranch. Will works construction, and Conway manages the family pecan farm. Buck moved to Lizard Gulch, a small town near Kingman, and he runs an auto body shop with his wife. Porter is still finding himself.”

“With a voice like that,” Roger said “you must have more women after you than you know what to do with.”

Beth stood. “I’ll help José clean up.” She vanished behind the wagon.

Roger lowered his voice. “I get a kick out of the way that gal blushes.”

“Didn’t see a ring on her finger,” Al whispered.

The hairs on the back of Mack’s neck stood on end. Roger and his four executives all wore wedding bands. They’d better not get the idea that Beth was available for a fling during their stay—she wasn’t that kind of girl.

She was that kind of girl with you.

Dave cleared his throat. “Beth’s the daughter of my old college buddy.”

“What does she do for a living?” Al asked.

For a married man, Al showed too much interest in Beth.

“Beth works for an investment firm.” Dave removed the coffeepot from the fire and refilled everyone’s cup. “She’s enjoying a short break from corporate America.”

“You mind if I ask her to review my stock portfolio?” Al nodded toward the chuck wagon. “I’d like her opinion on a couple of investments.”

Portfolio, my ass. Mack fisted his hand then rubbed his knuckles against his thigh to keep from throwing a punch at the man. Later tonight he’d warn Beth to keep her guard up with Al and the others.

“My guests are free to do what they want here,” Dave said.

Right then Beth returned to the campfire. “Everything’s packed and ready to go.”

“Beth.” Al got to his feet. The middle-aged man was in decent shape but Mack doubted he’d ever fought over a woman before. “I hear you have investment experience. Would you mind meeting with me to discuss my stocks?”

“Beth is busy tomorrow.” Mack stood.

Al glanced between Beth and Mack, uncertain what to say.

Beth avoided making eye contact with Mack. “I’d be happy to meet with you before supper.”

Dave clapped his hands. “Let’s head back.”

The men set their empty coffee cups in the dishpan on the wagon’s sideboard then walked to their horses. When Beth did the same, Mack made a move to go after her but Dave snagged his arm.

“What was all that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Dave narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on between you and Beth?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You got defensive when Al asked to meet with her.”

Mack nodded to the shadows beyond the campfire. Once they were out of earshot of the group, he said, “You and I both know Al wasn’t referring to his stocks when he asked Beth to look over his portfolio.”

“If I thought Al was a threat, I’d have stepped in. I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of Beth.”

“I don’t trust Al not to cross the line with her.”

“Beth’s a smart woman. She can handle Al.” Dave walked off and joined the guests by the horses.

Mack watched the city slickers swarm Beth. His brilliant idea to have her join them for supper so he could get to know her better had sure backfired in his face.

* * *

BETH SAT ON the cabin’s tiny porch facing Black Jack Canyon and sipped her tea. She marveled at the crazy turn her life had taken in the past year. The emotional highs and lows had exhausted her.

She couldn’t remember the last long vacation she’d taken from work or when she’d slept in until seven o’clock in the morning. Her stay at the guest ranch had been a nice change from sitting at her desk staring at a computer screen all day. She hadn’t realized how much anger and resentment had built up inside her after she’d discovered Brad had cheated. The daily hikes she’d taken at the ranch had helped expel the poisonous feelings from her body.

“Mind if I join you?”

She jumped inside her skin, almost sloshing tea onto her jeans. “I wish you’d stop stalking me.”

“Stalking? I knocked on the front door before I came back here.”

She motioned to the chair next to her. “Have a seat.”

Mack accepted the invite and propped one boot against the porch rail. They sat in silence. The scent of his aftershave drifted past Beth’s nose and she gave up fighting the memory of their night at the motel. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t relived those few hours in his arms. Mack’s presence at the ranch forced her to confront her feelings for him when she’d rather leave them be.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“How long were you married?” he asked.

“Five years.”

“Where did you meet your ex?”

She’d known Mack would eventually ask these questions. “A friend invited me to her company picnic. I ended up on Brad’s softball team.” Krista had been an intern at the TV station, and since she didn’t have a boyfriend she’d brought Beth to the annual spring gathering.

Mack chuckled, the intimate noise reminding her of the sound he’d made when he’d nuzzled the skin behind her ear and learned she was ticklish. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m imagining you hitting a home run and your ex’s mouth dropping open.”

“Amazing,” she said.

“What?”

“I did hit a home run, but the reason Brad’s mouth hung open was because I plowed him over at home plate.” She smiled. “He wouldn’t get out of my way.”

“You’ve got an athlete’s body. He should have known better.”

She’d rather Mack tell her she had a siren’s body.

He told you that night that you were sexy.

Mack cleared his throat. “I stopped by to warn you about Al.”

“Why?”

“Needing investment advice isn’t his only motivation for wanting to get together with you.”

“I’m sure you’re wrong. He’s married.”

“I don’t trust the guy.”

“I appreciate the warning, but I can handle Al.” She expected Mack to continue badgering her, but he changed the subject.

“Are you originally from Yuma?” he asked.

“No. I was born and raised in San Diego.”

“How’d you end up in Arizona?”

“After earning a Master’s in finance I received a job offer from Biker and Donavan Investments. They had an opening in their Yuma branch. The starting salary was very competitive and with student loans hovering over my head, I took the position.” For the most part she hadn’t regretted it. She’d lived frugally and had paid off her school debt in record time. Then she’d met Brad, and after they’d married he was promoted to five-o’clock sports anchor and before she realized it, Yuma had become home.

“What about your family?”

“I’m an only child. My parents still live in San Diego. My father is a retired airline pilot and they travel now.”

“I can’t imagine growing up an only child.”

She didn’t want to talk about herself. “Besides the brothers you mentioned earlier tonight, do you have any sisters?”

“One. Dixie. All of us were raised by our grandparents.” He took off his hat and set it on his knee. “The men who fathered me and my brothers wanted nothing to do with us, and my mother came and went on the farm as she pleased. None of us kids were close to her. She died before our grandparents passed away.”

“Do you like being part of a big family?”

“I don’t know any different. You get used to all the chaos that comes with seven kids trying to coexist in a house with one bathroom.”

The noise level inside their home must have been impressive.

“Grandma Ada used to threaten to spank our backsides with her big cooking spoon if we didn’t stop tearing the house apart.” He leaned forward in the chair. “Was it tough growing up an only child?”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/marin-thomas/true-blue-cowboy/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.