The Cowboy's Sweetheart Read online

  The Cowboy’s

  Sweetheart

  Copyright Cheryl Wright 2017

  Copyright 2017 by Cheryl Wright

  Cover Artist: Black Widow Books

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book

  He’s been gone more than 18 years now, but I’ll never forget the rodeos my dad (and mother) took us to as kids. We looked forward to going each and every year.

  Born in the country (as we kids were), my dad was a country man through and through. His first ever job was at a rodeo. He went on to become a ranger, and a horse breaker, amongst other things. His brother looked after horses all his working life, including taking tourists on trail rides. Every now and then I managed to insinuate myself into those trips.

  I grew up with horses, and the country ways of doing things. And I’m so glad I did.

  Sadly, we moved to the city down the track, but I loved (and still love) horses so much, I spent nearly all my extra money and most of my weekends going on horse rides.

  Thanks

  Thanks to my very dear friends (and authors), Margaret Tanner and Susan Horsnell.

  Without their encouragement, this book would not be written.

  Thanks also to Alan, my husband of over 45 years, who has been a relentless supporter of my

  writing for many years.

  And last, but by no means least, thank you to all my wonderful readers who constantly encourage me to continue writing these stories. It is such a joy to me, knowing so many of you enjoy reading my stories. I love writing them as much as you love reading them.

  Chapter One

  Missy O’Reilly pushed the decorated hat back on her head and looped her fingers through her jeans. She waited for her cue, then opened her mouth and began to sing a well-known cowboy song. Clear and pure. She moved with the rhythm of the music and scooted sideways as she sang.

  “You can be my sweetheart anytime you like, darlin’” shouted one cowboy from somewhere in the crowd.

  It was followed by shouts of “Shut up, Jacko!” from several cowboys in the room.

  This lot were a rowdy bunch. Cowboys celebrating the end of their working week. Throwing back a few beers, and having an all round good time.

  Missy ignored the throwaway line. She’d heard it before, nearly every night in fact. It seemed to be a standing joke around here.

  She glanced around the room, took in the sea of cowboy hats, and wondered if he was here. If he’d seen her. If she was already a target.

  She latched eyes with one cowboy who stood out from the rest. He was big and strong, and wore his hat proudly. He tipped his hat at her as their eyes remained locked. She felt the sizzling heat between them, and couldn’t look away. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Suddenly he lifted his beer to his mouth, keeping his gaze clearly on her.

  Hiding in plain sight didn’t always work.

  * * *

  Rory Callahan didn’t get into town often, but he was glad he did tonight. The bar put on a live show four nights a week. Not that he’d seen it for a while. He was too busy at his ranch, High Caliber. But his brothers had coerced him into taking the night off, and some of his ranch hands were coming, so why not?

  He knew it himself, but his nosey brothers were constantly telling him he worked too hard. All work and no play, and he would eventually run himself into the ground. Or so they kept saying.

  They were probably right. Not that he’d admit it to them.

  He watched this new entertainer prance across the stage. She was a pretty little thing, with her bells and whistles costume. She had a massive ornate hat sitting on her head, the likes of which he’d never seen before.

  She wore a western shirt with gold tassels hanging from it, and gold buttons down the front. The first three were undone, showing just enough of her cleavage to be enticing, but not enough to be indecent.

  Even her jeans were decorated. There was gold embroidery all around the pockets, including the back. He’d caught a glimpse of it as she did a gentle swirl while she waited for her next cue.

  As she kicked up her heels, he noticed the feminine cowboy boots. Cute.

  He’d seen plenty of entertainers here, but none as fancy as this one. To top it all off, she had a great voice.

  What was it about her? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but when they’d locked eyes, he felt something. It made him feel….good. A warmth had run through his body. And he didn’t even know her. Not in person. He’d only seen her from across the room. What would it be like if they met in person?

  He shivered.

  Suddenly the music stopped and everyone applauded. Not a regular happening in this good for nothing bar. Well, good for beer, but not much else. He chuckled to himself. He knew it wasn’t true. The food was pretty good, and the booze, and now he could add the entertainment to the list.

  “Thank y’all for coming.” Tonight’s entertainment had ended.

  Customers began to talk amongst themselves and the noise level became quite high. Rory finished his beer and started toward the exit. Not much point staying now his belly was full and the entertainment had ended.

  * * *

  Missy changed out of her flashy costume and into her street clothes. She’d remove the heavy makeup she needed for the show when she got home. And have a long, hot shower. She leaned back into her chair and sighed.

  She’d come a long way from Wyoming to hide out in the tiny township of River Valley, Montana – a little town about an hour from Boulton. Hopefully she could stay hidden here.

  She felt sad about what she’d left behind, but really had no choice. It was a matter of life or death. Her life, or her death.

  Missy didn’t even want to think about it.

  She stared at her self in the mirror, then straightened her back and shoulders. Buckle up, a little voice told her. You’re in for a long, hard ride.

  She leaned down and picked up her backpack, then headed toward the exit. It was time to head home, have that dreamed-about shower, and get some well-deserved rest.

  Well, as close to home as she could get right now. And that happened to be a rundown B&B in the main street of town. There was no way she was leaving the backpack there – she couldn’t guarantee it would be safe. At least at the bar, her dressing room was safe and secure, and she would see if anyone went out back.

  It was definitely better to keep her precious cargo as close as possible.

  * * *

  Fed up with the noise, and ready for sleep, Rory headed out of the bar toward his pickup.

  He heard some shouting and noticed a small group of cowboys hovering in a corner of the carpark. There was a bit of pushing and shoving going on, and he recognized one of his cow hands amongst the fray.

  The last thing he needed was for his workers to be picked up by the sheriff. His brother the sheriff. Chase didn’t care if he had to lock up Rory’s workers. He did everything by the book. There was no getting around him.

  If Chase locked them up for fighting, they’d lose at least a day’s work, and he couldn’t afford for that to happen. Or indeed for them to get into trouble with the law. He kept a clean ranch.

  “Pete,” he called across the carpark as he walked toward the scuffle. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s that pretty little entertainer,” Pete called back. “Jacko has her. I’ve tried getting rid of him. But he’s a stubborn sonofabitch, and it’s not working.”

  Rory’s h
eart rate increased as he ran toward the scuffle. He hoped the entertainer wasn’t hurt and moved as quickly as he could. What he saw infuriated him.

  The fool who had called out during her performance was harassing her. Trying to hug her, and she was resisting as best she could.

  He pushed his way through the small crowd, and grabbed Jacko by the collar, stopping him from doing further harm. He looked up at Rory with an angry scowl on his face, and tried to brush Rory aside. But Rory’s 6’4” dwarfed the other man’s 5’7” stature, and he finally saw sense, walking away without looking back.

  “Keep walking, Jacko,” Rory shouted to his retreating back. “And clean up your act. Stop hitting the booze.” He was the town drunk, and everyone knew it, but Jacko had never done anything like this before. Things must be getting bad.

  Missy was sitting on the ground, hugging her backpack as tightly as she could. It was obvious she was not going to let that backpack go anytime soon.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said, but she slapped at his hands, and clung even more to the backpack.

  “I was fine,” she spat at him. “I can take care of myself.” She glared at Rory, daring him to disagree.

  He frowned. “At least let me help you up off the ground,” he growled, annoyed at himself for feeling so frustrated at this young thing who had effectively been attacked by someone who should have known better.

  But too much booze did that to a man. Not that it was any excuse. Decent manners and good behaviour should be paramount, especially where women were involved.

  Jacko was a nice guy. Usually. But when he got a bit of booze into him, he was like a beast. Out of control, and no idea what he was doing. The only consolation was he’d have a whopper of a headache the next day.

  “I’m sorry about that fool,” Rory said, not sure why he was apologizing for an idiot who couldn’t hold his liquor. “Let me drop you home. I want to know you’re safe.” He tried to lead her toward his pickup, but instead she gave him a wary look and backed away.

  It took a moment or two before he realized she had no idea who he was. “Rory Callahan, Ma’am. I own a ranch out of town. High Caliber.” He tipped his hat, and his hand was outstretched, but she didn’t move. “Tell me where you live, and I’ll get you home safe,” he said, hoping by repeating his earlier statement she would be reassured.

  “That means nothing to me,” she said, backing away even further. “I don’t know you.”

  She lifted her arm and pointed up the road. “Besides, I’m staying at the B&B,” she said in a surprisingly normal voice. “It’s walking distance. I’ll be fine alone.”

  But he wasn’t having any of it. Not after Jacko had tried to latch onto her. Who’s to say he won’t try it on again?

  No, he was walking this little lady right to her door.

  Rory was getting a good insight into this entertainer. She was strong and confident on stage, but thought after the altercation with Jacko, she would be a meek and frightened young woman. He was so wrong, it wasn’t funny.

  * * *

  Rory put his hand to Missy’s back and led her toward the B&B. “Let me carry that pack for you,” he offered, but she wouldn’t hand it over. She was overly protective of that backpack, and he wondered why. He also wondered why she didn’t leave it in her room where she was staying while performing. Weird.

  “Where are you from,” he asked, but was met with silence. He glanced down at the slip of a girl, who merely shook her head.

  She must have had second thoughts because she suddenly answered. “Oh, here and there. I move around for different gigs.”

  “How long you staying in town?” He was making small talk, but at the same time, wouldn’t mind if she was around for awhile. He was enjoying her company.

  “Another couple of weeks,” she informed him, but something told Rory that wasn’t true. Most of the entertainment stayed for at least a month, and often longer. It depended on how the crowd took to them. And from what he’d seen, Missy was particularly popular.

  “Well, here we are,” she said as they arrived at her room. “Thanks. I’ll be fine now.”

  Rory wasn’t convinced. “Let me check it’s all clear before I leave you,” he said. “A gentleman never leaves a lady in the lurch.” He tipped his hat once more, and waited until Missy ushered him into her tiny room.

  He checked the bathroom, the closet and under the bed. “All clear,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” He decided that was his cue to exit, and headed for the door.

  He noticed the lock as he was about to leave. “This lock is flimsy. It won’t keep out anyone who really wants to get in.” It worried him.

  She looked horrified. “I’ll mention it to the owner. And thanks again for checking everything out,” she said, looking as though she had more to say, but instead straightened her back as though resolving herself to something difficult.

  Standing there with Missy was both bliss and tense. Bliss because he was enjoying her company. Tense because he could smell her perfume and it was telling him he needed to kiss her.

  He took a deep breath, trying to distance himself, but instead it made him want her more. He stared into her eyes, those beautiful soulful eyes that he could easily get lost in. He had to fight himself to pull his gaze away.

  Instead he stared at her lips. Her thick, lush, lipstick covered lips.

  Bad idea.

  He so wanted to kiss her. Wanted to taste her. Wanted to take her in his arms and just hold her. Feel her closeness, and get lost in the essence of Missy.

  Rory leaned in, ready to take the plunge.

  “Are you okay, Cowboy?” Her words brought him back to reality.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat as he walked away.

  * * *

  Rory sat atop his beloved Mustang, Star, and looked out across the range.

  It was a ridiculous time of day. He hadn’t been able to sleep thinking about Missy, tossed and turned all night, lay awake staring at the ceiling, and finally got up at 4am.

  He was always up with the birds, but this was absurd.

  How could one pretend cowgirl have such an impact on a well-traveled cowboy like himself?

  It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Sure, he’d walked her to her room, and checked it out, but that was it. How could he be so enamored with someone he’d barely even met?

  Okay, she was cute. She moved in ways he didn’t imagine possible. And she made him feel things he didn’t want to feel.

  He shook himself. He was acting like a damned teenager with a crush! Heck, he only met her yesterday.

  He was here to do a job, making sure none of the horses had got through that broken fence in the south paddock. The ranch hands had mended it last night, but it was late when they’d discovered it, and was too dark for anyone to ride out and check.

  He’d stood outside his ranch house, waiting for the sun to rise, with a cup of coffee in his hands. As soon as it had peaked over the mountains, he’d saddled up Star with his favorite saddle. His first ever Western Saddle.

  That saddle was very special to him, and was given to him by his parents on his twenty-first birthday. He treasured and looked after it.

  He took off his hat and brushed his hair out of his face. As he did, he caught a glimpse of what might be a Mustang in the distance.

  His mind back on the job, Rory, galloped toward the wayward creature, lasso in hand, ready to bring it home.

  As he got closer, he brought Star to a slow canter, and moved further toward his prey. Despite his patience, the mare was startled and reared up.

  Star stepped back, but did not rear up like the mare – he was too well trained for that. Rory held the lasso tight, waiting for his chance to pounce.

  “Easy boy,” he told Star quietly. “We’ll let her settle down before we try again.”

  He led his horse further out and watched as the mare calmed down, waiting for his cue to move in again.

  “Ho!” Before he
knew it, Rory had lassoed the mare, who was none too pleased.

  As they headed back to the stables, Rory’s mind slipped back to Missy again. He wondered how he could exorcise her from his thoughts.

  * * *

  Rory thought about Missy sitting alone in that rundown B&B, with no decent food, and no one to talk to.

  He argued with himself for about half an hour, about whether or not he should invite Missy for lunch on this beautiful day. Then, not giving himself another chance to change his mind, jumped in his pickup and drove into town.

  As he walked to her door, his heart was racing, and he realized he was nervous. That’s crazy, he admonished himself. It’s not like it’s a date or anything. It’s just lunch.

  He stood at her door and lifted his hand to knock. Instead he froze. He stood there for a whole minute, and was about to leave when the door opened.

  “Oh!” Missy paled and looked scared. Terrified even.

  He apologized, said he’d not meant to scare her. “You didn’t,” she lied. It was obvious to Rory he had frightened the life out of her.

  She stood in her doorway staring at him. Waiting for him to speak. “What can I do for you, Cowboy?” she finally asked.

  He took his hat from his head and looked directly into her face. “I came to invite you to lunch Ma’am.” Like a love-struck teenager, he shuffled his feet, trying not to be nervous.

  What the heck was wrong with him?

  He watched as a wariness overtook her face. “I, um,”

  Rory frowned. Okay, he was a stranger. Sort of. But he’d saved her butt last night. She should be all over this. “It will only be the two of us,” he said. The words came out quickly, like he was short of time. All he was short of right now was brains. “It will be very laid back,” he said, hoping that would convince her. “Soup, sandwiches, and whatever else I can rustle up.” He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but knew he could manage a light lunch.