Hard to Break (Rough Ride Security #1)

Chapter 1

Acloud of dust puffed up from the dry cracked ground and hovered over the toe of Lane Tipton’s cowboy boot. Trepidation wrapped around him like a cobweb. This place was a drug—dowsing him with a quick hit of dopamine before the rug got pulled from under his feet.

Which is why after his disastrous return to Hillmore, Wyoming, last year, he vowed he’d never come back.

Unfortunately, that choice had been ripped away.

The old house loomed ahead of him. Dark red stained the pine logs, the same color as the barn that sheltered the handful of animals his father had refused to give up.

A wide porch wrapped around the front of the home, inviting rocking chairs positioned to take in the majestic views of the mountains on the other side of the meadow.

Too bad nothing could make him feel welcome here. Even if he now owned the place.

Slapping his Stetson against his thigh, he fitted it back on his head and hiked the duffle strap higher on his shoulder as he climbed the porch steps to the house he’d grown up in and entered the tomb of a home.

Echoes of the past rang through the front hall. Harsh words and harsher slaps stained the walls along with the peeling paint.

The unsettling silence was almost worse. A reminder that he’d been chosen to take the place of the man who’d tortured him for years.

Bristling, he stormed past the living room, up the groaning stairs, and into the room he hadn’t slept in since he’d left this God-forsaken town at eighteen.

He dropped his duffle on the wooden floor where it landed with a thud then swept his black Stetson off his head. He tossed it on the neatly made bed. Indecision paralyzed him. His whole life he’d had one purpose, one direction, one goal.

And in the blink of an eye—one fall off the bull—everything changed. His future destroyed, leaving nothing but broken dreams.

His chest tightened and he rubbed the heel of his hand against the source of the pain at the sensitive spot where his shoulder met his neck. At least his father’s recent passing had left him with enough funds to live until he could figure out his next steps.

“Hello?”

The sound of his sister’s voice had him cracking his first smile since driving inside the city limits. He hurried back downstairs and rushed across the herringbone floor to engulf his little sister in a big hug, lifting her off her feet for a few seconds before setting her back down.

Her laughter filled the room. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Stand back and let me get a good look at you.”

He rolled his eyes but did as she asked. Suzy might be a good five inches shorter than his six-foot two-inch frame, but he’d learned long ago not to piss her off if possible.

She braced a hand on each of his biceps. “Not any worse for wear, although I’m not sure how I feel about this scruffy, unshaven hobo thing you’ve got going on.”

“Ha ha,” he said, grinning. He ran a palm over his jawline. Okay, so his facial hair was a little longer than usual, but the unkempt look matched his mood. “Is it my turn to inspect you?”

Suzy dropped her hands and anchored her fists on her hips. “Only if you say something nice.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. Suzy had tied her long, dark hair into a low ponytail with a red bandana, and her makeup-free face only highlighted her youth. Her brown eyes, a mirrored image of his own, held so much happiness it tore at his heart.

It’d been too long since he’d seen her. He’d take a few days to gain his bearings, figure out what the hell to do with the old house of horrors he’d been gifted, and fit in as much time with Suzy as he could before moving on to whatever was next.

“I think you got taller,” he finally said.

She slapped his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Hot, raw pain snaked down his arm. He hissed out a breath.

“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about your injury.”

“It’s okay.” He gritted his teeth until the pain subsided.

“Did you just get here?” Suzy asked.

He nodded. “Just set my bag in my old room when you came in.”

She raised her dark brows. “Your gonna sleep in your old room? Why not claim the master?”

The thought of taking up residence in his dad’s old room made a tremor of dread slither down his spine. “Not gonna happen.”

Understanding wrinkled her brow. “You could toss out all his stuff. Make it your own.”

“I don’t plan on being here long enough for it to matter where I crash.”

She heaved out a big sigh. “I thought you’d say that. What are you plans? Have a job lined up?”

“Not yet.” The familiar panic returned to squeeze his chest.

“Any idea what you want to do?”

He shook his head. Worrying about a job was a new thing, and it’d kept him awake more than one night. He’d trained for one thing his entire life—bull riding. Without it, he didn’t even know who he was, let alone what else he could do.

Suzy offered him a sympathetic smile. “No need to figure out your whole future tonight. Hungry?”

His stomach growled at the question. “Guess so.”

“How about dinner at The Dusty Armadillo?”

A memory flashed in his brain of the last time he’d been to the local watering hole.

Running into anyone from Hillmore at the bar and grill was pretty much guaranteed, but the evening a year back that he’d stumbled in and laid eyes on his high school love sitting at the bar had led to a night of passion he hadn’t expected.

And he’d never forget.

Suzy waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Lane. Do you want to get something to eat at The Dusty Armadillo? We can go somewhere else if that doesn’t sound good.”

Clearing his throat, he forced away the memories. “No, that’s fine. I’d kill for one of their burgers. Lemme grab my stuff.”

He jogged up the steps to retrieve his hat and wallet, heart rate racing at the thought of glimpsing Celine Koffman again. Chances were low she’d be there tonight.

God, he hoped he didn’t have to face her. Not after the way he’d left her that night he’d seen her.

The last thing he needed was to run into another ghost the moment he stepped into town. A ghost that had haunted him since the moment he’d walked out the door, not even telling her goodbye.

Exhaustion slowed every one of Celine Koffman’s steps as she delivered another plate of food at The Dusty Armadillo.

She’d pulled a double shift today and the hours couldn’t tick by fast enough.

The restaurant was packed, keeping her scurrying from table to table and hopefully lining her pockets with big fat tips.

Lord knew she needed them.

Forcing a pasted smile on her lips, she tried not to dwell on how different her life was from a year before.

Back when the sham of her marriage had finally been exposed.

Back when she’d lost herself for one night in the arms of a man who’d already broken her heart once.

Back when she’d only had herself to worry about.

Letting out a long, slow breath she weaved between tables to the kitchen and tried to get her head on straight.

The past was behind her, exactly where she wanted it to be.

Her days might be long, her muscles always sore, but she had one thing now that made every ounce of pain and suffering worthwhile.

Her son.

Just the thought of her squishy baby waiting for her back home was enough to give her the extra push she needed to make it through the next couple of hours.

“Order up for table seven,” Ron said and slid two plates her way.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she said, offering the old cook a genuine smile. “Those two ladies are hungry and not in the mood to wait.”

“Seems like the whole town’s hungry tonight,” he said, turning back toward the stove. “You see Tia, tell her I’ve got her order ready to go.”

Celine gathered the hot plates and used her back to open the swinging door that led out to the main room. “Will do.”

The clatter of silverware and chorus of chatter rang in her ears.

Neon signs buzzed on the walls, hanging next to framed photos of the town from years past and vintage advertisements.

She made a beeline for the two women seated in the corner booth.

Her feet stuck to something sticky on the wood floor.

She ignored a low whistle from a pair of cowboys playing pool, rolling her eyes at the idea they’d think she’d stop and flirt with them.

Little did they know she had no time for anything beyond work and motherhood. Something she had zero regrets about and didn’t intend to change. Men were nothing but problems that needed to be avoided at all costs.

A lesson she’d learned the hard way one more than once.

“Here you are ladies,” she said as she slid the plates onto the wooden table. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Ethel, the blue-haired librarian who’d scared Celine since childhood pursed her lips and studied her plate. “Looks fine.”

“Of course it does,” Bonnie said. “Thanks, dear. We’re good. Have everything we need.”

If Celine could hug Bonnie Wright she would, but Ethel would probably frown at such an outward display of affection.

The two women had been friends since before Celine was born.

Where one was grumpy and short tempered, the other was the living embodiment of sunshine and glitter.

If it hadn’t been for Bonnie, Celine would never have set foot in the library she loved so much.

“All right, ladies. Enjoy. Just holler if you need anything else.”

She hurried away before Ethel could get out a complaint. The bell above the door jingled. Lord, hopefully it was customers heading home and not new ones arriving. Her feet ached, her shoulder muscles screamed, and her heart yearned to return home and hold her baby.

“Celine!” Her mother’s voice cut through the noise of the restaurant like a hot knife through butter.

Stomach dropping, she swung around to face the entrance.

Her mom, Lisa Stuben, waved one hand high in the air while the other hoisted the baby’s car seat. Her blond hair was curled in big barrel curls and her signature red lipstick circled her mouth. An arsenal of makeup hid her wrinkles.

She patted shoulders of people she knew and waved at the bartender. “Hey, there, Nate! I might need a drink before I hit the road!” Her easy-going cackle made it sound like she joked, though Celine knew her mother never said no to a drink.

Irritation flared hot in Celine’s veins and she rushed to her mom, meeting her just a few steps away from the door.

“Mama, what in the world are you doing here?” Instinct had her grabbing the carrier from her mom and searching her beautiful baby’s face for signs of distress.

“I still have a couple hours left of my shift. Why did you bring Parker here?”

“A girl’s gotta eat, don’t she?” Lisa fisted one hand on her hip and gave a little shake of her head, as if Celine had asked the most ridiculous question.

Reaching for patience she didn’t have, she searched for an empty table.

She spotted one a few feet away and led her mom to a chair.

Once Lisa Stuben made up her mind, there’d be no talking her out of whatever plan she concocted.

She’d just have to add babysitting her babysitter to her list of responsibilities for the evening.

“Besides,” Lisa said. “I want to show off this grandson of mine. I mean, he’s just so darn precious and hardly anyone’s seen him.”

Celine bit back the argument she’d made countless times. Parker was only three months old. She didn’t want him around too many people yet.

Not to mention the kid was the spitting image of his father. And since no one knew who the father was, she’d rather let the novelty of her unexpected pregnancy and birth pass before dropping another bomb on her hometown.

As if sensing her irritation, Parker opened his eyes and let out a piercing cry—instantly causing her milk to come in. Humiliation scorched her cheeks, but she’d worry about what to do with her stained shirt later. Now her son needed her.

“Come here, little guy.” She unhooked him from his seat and cradled him close to her chest.

He screamed, raising his arms high above his head.

Tia hurried over. “Do what you need to do. The office is free. I think I have a spare shirt in there somewhere. I’ve got your tables.”

“You’re a life saver.”

Lisa waved the menu in the air. “I have an order to make.”

Rolling her eyes, she mouthed her apology to her boss and friend then hurried to the office behind the bar. Once inside, she shut and locked the door then sank down in Tia’s worn leather chair and situated Parker so he could fill his tummy.

Once settled, she relaxed against the seat while cradling her son. She ran the pad of her thumb over his cheek. She was still as amazed by her love for this child today as she was the day he was born. So tiny and precious, a shining beacon of hope for her when she’d been at her lowest.

And for the rest of her life, every decision she made would be based around what was best for him. As much as she loved her own mother, there were a lot of things she planned to do differently. Hoped to right some of the wrongs that left her scarred and a little bit broken.

With Parker satisfied, she shifted him to rest against her shoulder and smoothed her palm over his back until he released a little burp.

“Good job, little man. Now let’s find that shirt so I can return you to your grandma and I can get back to work.”

He cooed and a little smile lifted his lips. His brown eyes were open wide, and a drop of milk wet some of his dark curls.

A quick scan of the small office led her to a fitted gray t-shirt tucked in a tote bag in the corner. She swapped shirts and made her way back out to the restaurant. A young woman and man in a black cowboy hat stood beside her mom’s table, both with their backs to her.

“Here you go, Mama. He’s nice and full. I’ve got to get back to work.”

The man turned. Lane Tipton stared at her, his brown eyes wide and dark curls now cut and no longer brushing against his ears like the last time she saw him. His gaze darted from her to Parker and back again. Shock twisted his expression. “Celine?”

All the air was sucked from her lungs. Her hands shook, and she held tighter to son. Whether she liked it or not, the day she'd dreaded was here. Lane would hear the truth he could already see on their son’s face.