Chapter One #2
“I know.” Blair glanced toward the bartender polishing mugs behind the counter. “Go watch your movie. Killian is so hot. I need a cowboy of my own, but not these rookie amateurs.”
Celine laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. Call me if you need backup.”
“I will. Love you. Night.” She disconnected and tucked the phone back into her pocket.
She exhaled slowly, bracing herself as the trio swaggered back over, spurs jingling on the wooden floor. Each wore a dusty cowboy hat and the kind of cocky smirk meant to disarm. It did nothing for her.
“Hey, beautiful,” one said.
“Look, I’m flattered,” Blair said, forcing a polite smile, “but you fellas need to give me some space.”
The lanky one with freckles and too-big boots leaned in. “How do you know you don’t like one of us unless you try?”
“No.” Short and flat.
They laughed, a hollow sound. “She’s playing hard to get.”
“I’m not playing.” Blair narrowed her eyes and flagged down Scarlett, the owner and bartender of Dewey’s.
Scarlett wiped a clean rag over a frosted mug and slid it down the counter to a customer, then made her way over. “Hey, Blair. Something else I can get you?”
“Nothing, thanks. Is Noah coming in tonight?” Blair kept her voice steady despite the tremor behind it.
“Not tonight. He’s working on a saddle.” Scarlett’s brow creased. “What’s wrong?”
“These guys won’t leave me alone. I’m scared to step outside.”
“Damn it, Liam’s not here either.” Scarlett patted her hand. “Just hang tight. Maybe they’ll get bored. If Dom comes in later he can walk you out.” She moved back down the bar to take another order.
Blair turned away, the low chatter of the cowboys still drifting over her shoulder. She stared at the swirls in her whiskey, heart pounding.
Then someone eased onto the stool beside her.
She tensed, ready to glare, but when she turned she found herself face to face with a man whose presence filled the space around him.
Broad-shouldered, worn denim, and he smelled amazing.
His cowboy hat sat low on his forehead, shadowing most of his face, but that strong jaw covered in stubble made her want to see the rest of it.
Blair drew in a slow breath.
This was no greenhorn. This was the real deal.
The bar was full of laughter, clinking glasses and the steady hum of country music. Neon signs cast a faint blue glow across the worn wood of the counter.
“What did I do to deserve that look?” His voice was quiet enough that only she could hear.
Blair tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and leaned back on her stool, studying him through narrowed lashes. “I’m sorry. I thought you were one of those persistent cowboys who’ve been trailing me all night.”
He followed her gaze toward the cluster of men near the dartboard, their boots shifting impatiently. “Want me to run them off?”
She pressed her palms flat against the bar top and sighed. “I’m afraid they’d still follow me out to the parking lot.”
A faint smile curved his lips. “I can walk you out, if you like.”
Blair’s lips twitched. “I don’t know you either.”
Laughter rumbled from his chest, and she felt a flutter low in her stomach. “Scarlett, Siobhan, Laura, Dixie and Keith all know me. Ask any of them.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Okay. In the meantime, can I buy you a drink?”
She shook her head and reached for her purse. “I’m switching to soda. My friend was supposed to meet me, but she fell ill. I’ve been dying to leave, but those guys won’t give me a break.”
He caught the bartender’s eye, and a man with a neatly trimmed mustache made his way over. “Keith, she wants a soda. I’ll have whatever’s on tap.”
Keith glanced at Blair and nodded.
“You know this man?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
“Sure. Why?”
“Is he a good guy?”
Keith offered a half shrug. “Sure.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
The man beside her chuckled, a rough, pleasant sound.
“I’m not taking his word alone,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Don’t blame you,” he replied, tone amused. “He didn’t exactly sing my praises.”
Blair shook her head. “No, he did not.” She watched as he slipped off his stool, reached into his back pocket and flipped open his wallet.
“Are you a cop?” she ventured when she saw the ID.
“Livestock agent. Montana Department of Livestock,” he corrected, voice calm.
“Livestock agent?” She brightened. “Do you know Killian Doyle?”
“We work out of the same office.”
“He’s married to my cousin,” she said, lowering her voice.
“Celine is your cousin?”
“Yes.”
“Then call her,” he said. “Or call Killian.”
Blair dialed Celine. Her cousin picked up on the second ring, voice cheerful. “Hey, need reinforcements?”
“I’m not sure yet. Can I talk to Killian?”
“Sure, hold on.”
“Blair? What’s up?” Killian’s voice came on the line.
“Do you know—” She glanced at the man beside her. “What’s your name?”
“Hud Anderson.”
“I heard him,” Killian said. “Yeah, I know Hud. He’s a good man.”
“Thanks. Tell Celine I’ll call her tomorrow.” She hung up with a relieved grin.
“So? We good?”
“I guess you’re official.” She smiled. “Thank you. When I’m ready to leave, I’ll let you know.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Blair Nelson.” They shook hands and she never wanted to let go.
From behind her, one of the cowboys swaggered up. “How about that drink now, sweetheart?”
Blair straightened. “I already said no thanks.”
“Come on,” another one laughed. “Just one.”
Hud shifted beside her, voice low but firm. “I just bought her a drink.”
The cowboy’s grin faltered. “Oh, I see. You’ll drink with him but not us.”
“Maybe she likes a real man,” Hud said, eyes narrowing, “not a boy with too much bravado.”
A hush fell over their corner of the bar. Blair’s pulse steadied. With Hud Anderson beside her, she could finally breathe.
“She’s just playing hard to get. And we’re men, just like you.”
Blair watched Hud’s grin settle into something cooler. “You’re nothing like me. You’re cocky little boys who think what you’re doing is fine. It’s not. Leave her alone.”
“You can’t take all three of us on,” one said.
“I’m game if you are.”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” another said, laughing.
“Okay. You two then?” Hud raised an eyebrow. Silence. “No? Then apologize to the lady and move on.”
The three cowboys looked at each other. Blair watched the swagger drain out of them all at once.
“We apologize, ma’am.” And then they disappeared into the crowd.
Blair blew out a slow breath and turned to Hud. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem.”
“They’d been at it since I walked in. A little too sure of themselves and drunk on top of it. One of them even told me they’d been watching me since I got here.” She shook her head. “I’m so glad you sat down.”
As she looked at him she couldn’t help but notice his eyes. Amber, like honey only lighter, and paired with dark hair and tanned skin, he was sexy as hell.
“Is Hud a nickname?”
“For Hudson. Nobody calls me that unless it’s my father, grandparents or boss, and only when they’re angry about something.” He grinned and she was fairly certain she was going to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Parents do love the full name when they’re irritated. No matter how old you are.” She smiled. “I do like Hudson though.”
He shook his head, still grinning. “So, tell me about you.”
“I just moved here about a month ago. Celine invited me to visit, and I fell in love with Clifton. Have you always lived here?”
“Born and raised. Been a livestock agent for twenty-three years. Worked several cases with Killian after he came here and decided to stay.”
“I know. Celine is so in love with him.” Blair smiled.
“Yeah, and he feels the same about her.” Hud glanced toward the door, then back at her. “You let me know when you’re ready to leave, okay?”
“Sure, but I think I’ll stick around a little while.” She smiled, and when he grinned back she wanted to jump his bones.
“So where are you originally from?”
“Spokane, Washington.”
“You and Celine must be close.”
“As close as sisters. I love her.”
“Well, I’m glad you moved here,” he murmured.
“Me too.” She smiled.
“So, what do you do, Blair Nelson?”
“I’m a registered nurse. I work at a doctor’s office.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. Regular hours, Monday through Friday. That’s a big plus.” She traced the rim of her glass. “When I worked at a hospital in Washington the hours were brutal. Twelve-hour shifts, one day off, then back at it.” She shook her head. “Are you meeting someone here tonight?”
“No. I just left the office. Working a case and decided to have a beer before heading home.”
“I’m glad you did. My only other option was calling Killian, and I didn’t want to bother him on a Friday night.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have called it a bother.” Hud glanced briefly toward where the cowboys had gone. “Those guys are probably just passing through, figured you were alone and thought they’d have a little fun. Likely harmless, but you can never tell.”
“True. I’ll finish this drink and then if you don’t mind, you can walk me out.”
“I already told you I would. They might have backed down in here, but if they see you go outside alone they could follow.”
“They’re so young.” Blair chuckled.
Hud grinned. “Probably just old enough to drink.”
“Twenty-one.” She shook her head. “Way too young. I’m thirty-eight. I have nothing against older women with younger men, but a seventeen-year gap? No thanks.”
“Why aren’t you married?” he asked, turning his beer glass slowly on the bar.
“I was. Divorced. Between studying and then the hospital hours, there wasn’t much left for a relationship.”
“Yeah, that can happen.”
“What about you? Married, engaged, seeing anyone?”
“No, no and no. My job keeps me busy.”
“Celine says Killian is constantly on a case.”
“It comes with the territory. A lot of rustling goes on across the state. I’m working one right now.”
“Missing livestock?”
“Cattle. I took over from another agent.”
“What happened to him?”
“Rawley took three rounds to his vest. Collapsed lung, broken ribs.” Hud’s expression sobered. “He’s back part time but field work is out for now. I stepped in.”
Blair shook her head slowly. “That’s a dangerous job.”
“It can be.”
“Did you get the cattle back?”
Hud shook his head. “Not yet. We’re hoping to find them, but it’s been a while.”
“Did you catch the rustlers?”
Hud smirked. “Not all of them.”
“I don’t know how you deal with that.”
“It’s tough. Years ago, I worked a case where thirty head were taken. All thirty were believed to have been slaughtered.”
“Oh, those poor animals.” She shook her head.
“Rustlers are in it for the money. Once they deliver the livestock to whoever hired them, they don’t care what happens after that.”
“Why would someone want them stolen in the first place?”
“It’s evolved way beyond moonlit raids.” Hud set his beer down.
“Modern rustlers run stolen animals through black market networks that bypass inspections and paperwork entirely. Once they’re in that pipeline, they’re nearly impossible to trace.
In Montana we see it two ways. Either the brands get filed off, documents get forged and the cattle end up at auction houses with lax inspection practices, or they’re butchered immediately at rural slaughterhouses, and the meat gets quietly distributed to small restaurants and markets that don’t ask questions. ”
“Tell me more.” Blair propped her elbow on the bar and cupped her chin in her hand. She could listen to him talk all night.
“It’s become a complex criminal enterprise.
Thieves trade beef for drugs, leveraging the full black-market value of the animals.
When cattle prices rise, theft goes up with it, which is what keeps livestock agencies running undercover operations.
Some rustlers are just desperate, but the organized outfits coordinate distribution networks across state lines.
Limited enforcement, minimal consequences and frankly a certain romanticization of the whole thing lets it keep going.
Drought makes it worse. Ranchers are already stressed and reducing their herds while thieves see an opening and expand.
It leads to armed standoffs more often than people realize.
It’s a centuries old crime that’s turned into a sophisticated industry. ”
“Fascinating. Are horses stolen too?”
“All livestock is at risk.”
“It sounds dangerous.”
“Any law enforcement job is.”
“No wonder Celine worries every time Killian walks out the door.”
“She knows what she signed up for. We’re as careful as we can be, but the men rustling nowadays don’t care about anyone but themselves. It’s lucrative enough that they’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”
Blair picked up her drink and went quiet for a moment. She wasn’t sure she could be involved with a man who might not make it home one day.
When she set her glass down she looked at him. “I’m ready to go.”
“Sure.” He stood. He was tall, very tall, and that had always been her weakness. At five foot eight she’d never wanted to be the taller one in a relationship. She reached for her purse, but he was already pulling out his wallet.
“I’ve got this.” He caught Dixie’s eye down the bar. “I’m paying for both of us.”
“Okay, let me ring that up.” Dixie was back within minutes with a total. Hud peeled off two twenties, handed them over, and waved off the change.
“Thanks, Hud. You both have a good evening.” She headed back to the register.
Blair hopped off her stool, and Hud took her elbow, steering her through the crowd, then out into the cool evening air.
“Getting colder,” she said.
“Early May. Snow could be on the way.”
“I thought Celine was exaggerating until she showed me pictures from last year.”
Blair hit her fob and her car lights blinked across the lot. Hud walked her over and pulled the door open.
“Drive safe.”
“I will.” She glanced back toward the bar. “I hope they didn’t follow us out.”
He looked around. “Doubt it. They’ve probably moved on to their next conquest.”
“I’m glad you were there tonight, Hud.”
“Me too.”
She smiled, climbed in, then looked up at him. “Thank you. Again.”
“No problem.” He held the door a moment. “Blair, I’d like to see you again. Dinner sometime?”
“I’d like that.”
“Give me your number. I’ll call once I can get us into The Hartland.”
“I love their food.”
“Me too.” He stepped back and touched the brim of his hat as she pulled the door shut.
She started the car and drove home smiling.