Cole (Men of Clifton, Montana #57)

Chapter One

Ten minutes later she stopped.

A dark shape grazed in the distance, and relief moved through her chest. Livestock. Maybe a farmhouse nearby. But as she drew closer the relief died. It wasn’t a cow. It was a bull, massive and still, its horns sweeping outward like curved blades, its black eyes already fixed on her.

“Oh, boy,” she whispered.

The bull pawed the earth. Dust bloomed and drifted. It snorted once, low and deliberate.

She took a step back. Then another. Then she spun and ran.

Her lungs burned. The hooves hit the ground behind her like hammer blows, each one closer than the last, and she screamed, raw and ragged, certain she was about to feel the impact.

A horse burst into view, rider and animal silhouetted against the glaring sun.

In one motion the man leaned down, caught her outstretched arm, and swung her up behind him.

She locked her arms around his waist and held on.

The horse stretched into a full run, then launched over the fence in a clean arc and landed hard on the other side.

The rider slowed, set her on her feet, and dismounted.

She turned to face him. He stood with the sun at his back, cowboy hat throwing his jaw into shadow, mirrored aviators giving nothing away. Dust still hung in the air around his worn chaps and scuffed boots. He planted his hands on his hips.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he said.

Aftyn straightened her blouse and brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead. Her own reflection stared back at her from his sunglasses.

“Watch your language,” she said.

His jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He shook his head, drew a breath, squared his shoulders.

“Watch my language? You could have been impaled. What the fu—hell are you doing in my pasture? You’re damn lucky I was out here.”

She looked past him at the bull, which stood at the fence line, still watching her. “Can that bull get through?”

“He’s a steer. And no.” He crossed his arms. “Now answer my question.”

Aftyn turned and stared at him. His dark hair brushed the collar of his snug T-shirt, framing features that were rugged and unapologetically masculine.

Her gaze traveled down his frame. The shirt clung to broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and a flat stomach.

His worn leather chaps hugged his legs in a way that made her mouth go dry.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with a man, and this one was undeniably smoldering.

She fought the overwhelming urge to rip off those sunglasses, though seeing her own reflection staring back was a sharp reminder of exactly what kind of mess she was currently in.

She took a deep breath and explained about the car.

“You knew it was overheating and kept driving?” he said, his tone edged with disbelief.

“I had no choice,” she shot back.

“Of course you did. Pull over and shut it off before the motor locks up.”

“I did! That’s why I’m out here looking for help.”

“You should have stayed with your vehicle. Instead, you decided to take a stroll through a pasture with a pissed-off steer and a no trespassing sign.”

“How was I supposed to know there was a bull in there?”

“Steer,” he corrected. “In this area, if it’s fenced, stay the hell out! Why did you ignore the sign? Did you think it was there for the hell of it?” he barked, his words slicing through the air like a cold, biting wind.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” she shouted back, her temper flaring like a wildfire consuming dry brush.

“Woman, that animal would have stomped you to death. You’re damn lucky I was out here. Not many people can get close to him, especially a stranger. Holy shit,” he muttered, removing his hat to rake his fingers through his hair before settling it back on his head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the gravity of the situation pressing down on her like a heavy weight, realizing she could have been killed if not for him. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

He sighed, a deep, drawn-out sound that spoke volumes. “Come on, I’ll take you to my house and get my truck. Then I’ll take a look at your car.” He mounted the horse and extended his hand toward her.

Aftyn took his hand, astonished at how effortlessly he lifted her and placed her on the horse behind him.

He nudged the horse, and they rode through the field, the landscape a blur around them.

She noticed him shaking his head, and she knew it was because of her.

She was certain she didn’t want to hear the thoughts swirling through his mind.

****

Cole sighed. She could have been killed. You don’t climb an unknown fence and decide to stroll through a pasture. What the hell was she thinking?

“How far is your house?” she asked over his shoulder.

“Over the next rise. Few minutes.”

“Could I use your bathroom when we get there?”

“Yes.”

“I know you’re still angry. I am sorry. I just didn’t think about there being a bull in there.”

“It’s fine.”

“You should have just said ‘whatever.’”

He couldn’t help it. He chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“Aftyn Hutchins. You?”

“Cole Harrison.” He paused. “Aftyn’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you. Nice to meet you too. Really,” she added with a laugh.

He shook his head. “That steer could have trampled you to death.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

She was something, he’d give her that. Red hair, blue eyes, genuinely beautiful. But she should have had more sense than to climb into an unknown pasture. Anything could have been in there. He’d been out mending fence and heard her scream, and if he hadn’t been in that exact spot she’d be dead.

“I still don’t understand why you ignored the sign. Those are posted all over this property.”

“I needed help,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s done.”

He felt her shift behind him, looking ahead. “Is that your house?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” He nudged Odin into a run. Her arms tightened around his waist. He rode up to the porch steps, took her arm and set her on the ground, then dismounted and dropped the reins.

He nodded for her to follow and took the steps behind her, doing his best to keep his eyes off her in those jeans. He didn’t entirely succeed.

At the door he reached around her, pushed it open, and stepped back. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she walked into the kitchen.

“This is beautiful.”

She turned, and he pointed down the hall. “Bathroom’s this way.” He led her through the laundry room and showed her the door. “I’ll get the truck. Meet me on the porch.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat and headed back outside, jogging down the steps to collect Odin’s reins.

Rio was crossing the yard. “Hey, boss.”

“Rio. Can you cool him down for me?”

“Sure, I—” Rio stopped, looking past him.