My Cowboy’s Hold (Rock Creek Ranch #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Cash

“Easy, girl. That’s it.” My voice, calm and controlled, settles the mare quickly.

She tips her head toward me, so I can look into her deep brown eyes.

There’s a sliver of trust there. I’ll take it.

It’s a big improvement from the fear and wariness she’s been watching me with since we brought her to the ranch.

I take a step toward Chestnut, reaching out to her neck. She lets me pat her for a few seconds before jerking away and heading for the opposite side of the corral.

I let her go.

We’ve made huge progress, and I know not to push too hard. Working with a skittish horse is a long game, but I know I’ll get there.

I always do.

I take a moment to lean back against the wood fence and take it all in. It feels good to be back on the ranch after so long. But different, too.

When I left this place fourteen years ago, I took off without a backward glance, happy to put as much distance between myself and the anger and hatred that lived here.

It wasn’t always like that, though. Before Mama died, the ranch was full of life and love. My brothers and I had the perfect childhood. It all changed the day she died. We didn’t just lose a mother that day; we lost a father, too.

Only we lost him to his grief. He’d become bitter and angry overnight. Nothing was ever the same after that. Not even when he remarried and had more children. It only got worse.

Which is why it had been so easy to leave it all behind.

Now that he’s gone, the black cloud has lifted. It’s as if Rock Creek Ranch is starting to come to life again.

I watch while Chestnut joins up with Bayberry, the other mare I brought in. Together, they break into a trot around the corral.

The rhythm of hooves on the packed snow steadies me. This is what I’ve missed. The kind of peace that only comes when it’s just the animals and me.

The city noise had never been enough to drown out the emptiness I felt there.

I’d been gone too long. Working in cities or on movie sets, training the horses for people who cared more about the money they could earn from them, instead of the animals themselves.

It was good to be home.

The crunch of boots on the snow behind me breaks the calm. “Afternoon.” My brother Wyatt joins me, climbing through the rails. “How’s she doing?”

“Good,” I say with a nod, keeping my eyes on the horses. “They both are.”

“Of course they are,” Wyatt says. “You’re the best trainer around, Cash. We’re lucky to have you. It would be a whole hell of a lot harder to rebuild this place without you.”

I turn to him then. “You were doing pretty well before I got here.”

It was true. Wyatt was the first of us to get back to the ranch. Along with Travis, our ranch hand who was almost like a brother himself, they’d been working hard setting things to right around here.

“There’s a big difference between mending a few fences in the corrals and filling them with the animals who are the cornerstone of this place. You have a magic touch with the horses, Cash. I’m glad you’re back.”

I nodded and turned away again. “I’m glad to be back.”

I hadn’t told my brothers much about the scandal I’d been wrapped up in on the last movie set I’d been working on. But they knew enough. They also knew that the accusations of the reporters had been completely fabricated.

But knowing something and proving it were two very different things. I’d had enough of the city, the entertainment business, and the gossip that went with it.

“About that call I got last week...”

I stiffen. I know what Wyatt is going to say. Just like he knows how I’ll respond.

“I told you,” I start, my jaw tensing. “I’m not talking to any reporters. Never again.”

“It’s not like that, Cash. This is a totally different thing. A lifestyle magazine out of Vancouver. They’re featuring—”

“No.”

“It’ll be good publicity for the ranch. You know we need it.”

He’s not wrong.

The reputation of Rock Creek Ranch had progressively gotten worse over the years my dad was alive. Even after he remarried and had another five boys, he was still an angry bastard. It wasn’t only his children he’d driven away. It was anyone and everyone he ever came into contact with.

We were fighting an uphill battle when it came to restoring the reputation of our family name and the ranch in town with the locals.

And if we were going to have a hope in hell at building out a guest ranch to capitalize on the booming tourism industry in Rock Creek, we were going to need a miracle.

Or some excellent publicity.

When I didn’t answer him, Wyatt continued, “They’re sending someone up for the story. We’ll put them up in the guest cabin for a week or two. A real immersion piece.”

“A week or two?” I lifted my hat from my head and ran a hand through my hair, with a shake. Avoiding the reporter for a few days would be hard enough. But for a few weeks?

“It’s not going to be as bad as you—”

“It’ll be worse,” I growl. “Nothing good can come from this, Wyatt.”

“It’s not an expose,” he counters. “It’s a feel-good piece about the ranch, the horses. The celebrity horse trainer who’s returned—”

“No,” I snap. “That’s not how this works, brother. These people…they have a way of digging around and twisting your words into whatever will sell copies.”

He’s about to respond when the crunch of tires on gravel and snow cuts through the air. We turn to see Anna’s shiny white truck coming up the drive. As the local veterinarian, Wyatt’s soon-to-be wife is in high demand.

Even from a distance, I can see Anna behind the wheel, waving at us through the windshield. Next to her…

“Who’s that?”

Wyatt shrugs.

“Tell me that’s not—”

“Hey, guys,” Anna calls out as she jumps down from the truck. “Came across a car stuck in a snow drift. She says she was headed out to the ranch, so I gave her a ride.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d already agreed,” I say through clenched teeth.

The passenger door opens, and for a second, the world goes still.

She steps out. Polished black boots—with heels—that have never seen dirt, jeans too tight to kneel in, and a beige wool coat that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Never mind the purse she has tucked over her arm.

City girl.

Through and through. Her long, dark hair falls in a perfect, glossy curtain over her shoulders, shining in the afternoon sun.

She lifts a hand to shield her eyes, scanning the yard until her gaze locks on me.

Fuck.

I’ve seen beautiful women before. Hell, I’ve been surrounded by models and actresses, one more beautiful than the next. But there’s something about this woman that hits differently. Maybe it’s how out of place she looks, so polished and clean against the rugged landscape of the ranch.

“Well,” Wyatt says with a chuckle. “That would be your journalist.”

I drag my eyes away from her long enough to glare at my brother. “You could have warned me she’d look like that.”

He laughs and pushes up on the rail to go greet his woman and our guest. “Would it have made a difference?” he asks as he walks away.

I turn back to the corral and the horses. “Yeah,” I mutter to myself. “I would’ve given myself more time to remember why I don’t trust her kind.”

Kali

Ihave to jump a little to get out of the huge truck, and my boot slides a little on the ice before I catch myself to keep from falling in front of the two cowboys who are watching our every move.

The wind hits me like a slap in the face. I’m thankful for the warm wool coat I found at the thrift store. Like all of my clothes, it’s a brand I could never afford otherwise. Before leaving the city, I’d tried to find appropriate ranching clothes, but I recognize my mistake immediately.

The ranch I’ve stepped into is real. Unfiltered. And nothing like the movies or television shows I watched before coming.

This is a real ranch.

And suddenly, I’m not sure my city books, or my confidence, is going to survive it.

I force a smile and clutch my purse a little tighter before raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes so I can get a good look around.

“Here are are,” Anna says cheerfully, joining me on the other side of the truck. Her ponytail bounces as she reaches up to grab my suitcase from the back, completely unfazed by the snow and cold. “Watch the ice. The yard can get pretty slippery.”

I test the ground at my feet with a tentative step. Slippery is an understatement.

If Anna notices, she doesn’t say anything. Thankfully.

A few hours ago, I thought this trip was already cursed.

My rental car had lasted all of twenty minutes on the rough mountain road before I managed to bury it in a snowbank.

With no cell service and no clue what to do.

I was about to panic when Anna pulled up in her giant truck and a kind smile that made me forget how out of my depth I was.

“You must be the reporter,” she’d said. “We’re just up the road. I can give you a ride, and the guys can sort out your car later.”

She had such an easy, optimistic way about her; it was easy to believe that everything would be okay.

And for a few minutes, riding next to her in her warm, safe truck, I did.

Now, standing here in front of the barns, corrals, and snow-dusted fences of this actual working ranch, I’m no longer sure.

I inhale a deep breath, straighten my shoulders and swallow my uncertainty.

Because this is it.

My first real feature.

The kind of story that could finally get me noticed as an actual writer for Flourish magazine, instead of just another copywriter who polishes up the half-cooked articles the other staff writers turn in.

All I have to do is prove I belong here.

“So,” I say to Anna, hoping my voice sounds stronger than it feels. “Where’s the famous horse whisperer himself?”

She laughs softly and nods toward the two men by the corral who’d been watching us since we pulled up. “Right there.”

I assess the two cowboys, my gaze landing on the slightly taller of the two.

He’s wearing a thick black jacket, open over a flannel shirt, jeans that hug his strong legs and a worn, black hat.

There’s something about him that seems a little more…

polished than the other man. Somehow, I know he’s Cash Thorne.

Famous as a horse trainer. And the main focus of my piece.

It’s a ridiculous thought since both men looked like they were born from the very earth they stood on. Rough. Wild.

“Come meet the guys.” Anna’s voice brings me back to the moment.

I give her a nod that I hope looks somewhat confident, hitch my purse up on my shoulder, and carefully pick my way across the snow and ice after her.

As we approach, my suspicions are confirmed when the other man, who is equally attractive, steps forward with a broad grin. “Sweetheart.” He greets Anna with a hug and a kiss before turning to me. “You must be the reporter.”

Behind him, I hear the other man grunt, but I refuse to let it bother me.

“Kali Collins.” I extend my leather-gloved hand.

“Wyatt Thorne,” he says with a grin as he takes my hand, removing his cowboy hat at the same time. It’s very chivalrous, and I find myself relaxing a little.

“And this is my brother, Cash Thorne.” Wyatt steps to the side, revealing the dark-eyed cowboy I’d identified correctly a moment ago. “We’re happy to have you, Kali.”

Cash’s lips press into a hard line as he seems to study the land just beyond me.

“Aren’t we, Cash?” Wyatt urges.

Finally, Cash shifts his gaze so it locks on mine.

It’s not friendly.

It’s the kind of look that makes it clear that, despite what his brother says, he is not happy to have me here.

I swallow hard, my city confidence shrivelling fast.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Thorne.” I hold my hand for him, and for a second, I’m not sure he’s going to take it.

But he’s too much of a gentleman. He tips his hat, and at the same time, takes my tiny hand into his. “Ma’am.”

Ma’am?

I know it’s supposed to be a sign of respect, but somehow coming from Cash’s mouth, it doesn’t have the same ring. “Call me, Kali,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.

“Kali is our guest for the next little bit,” Wyatt says, putting an arm around Anna. “I know Cash will do everything he can to help you out with the story and make you feel right at home here on Rock Creek Ranch. Won’t you, brother?”

A mumble of agreement comes from the cowboy, and his eyes narrow before he looks away with a shake of his head.

Interesting.

When I’d been assigned this piece, I’d been told the brothers who’d recently taken over their father’s ranch were eager for good press.

Especially, Cash Thorne, the celebrity horse trainer, who’d been caught up recently in a scandal that, when I did some digging, didn’t appear to have anything to do with him.

Clearly, not all of that information was correct.

But I’m a reporter. I’ll get the story from him.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you,” I say as brightly as I can. “This is going to be fun.”

Cash scoffs, not bothering to try and hide it.

At the same time, a gust of wind cuts through the yard. I wrap my coat around me tighter and stamp my feet, which are already soaked through the leather.

“You must be freezing,” Anna says.

“Wouldn’t be if you were dressed properly,” Cash mutters under his breath.

“Be nice.” Wyatt shakes his head. “She’s come a long way. Why don’t you show Kali to the guest cabin so she can warm up and get settled?”

Cash’s head whips around. “Me?”

“Anna and I have some things to take care of in the house,” Wyatt says easily with a wink toward his wife that lets me know exactly what kind of things they have to take care of.

Again, Cash mutters something under his breath before turning to look at me with barely contained irritation. But there’s something else there, too. A flicker of something in his eyes I can’t quite figure out.

“Guess you’re with me,” he says.

I paste on my most professional smile and follow him through the yard as carefully as I can, trying to ignore the way my pulse jumps every time he looks back at me.

I’m so busy trying not to stare at the way his jeans hug his ass that I’m not paying attention to my footing.

A squeak slips from my lips as my boot hits a patch of ice and flies out in front of me. I brace for an impact that never comes. And then I’m surrounded by the warm scent of hay and leather, as Cash catches me in his arms.

For a second, neither of us moves. The world narrows to his hands on my waist and the dark look in his eyes.

“Careful,” he says. His voice holds a layer of concern, and something else I can’t quite decipher.

And just like that I’m not sure if he’s warning me about the ice…or him.