Wrangling Her Cowboy (Silver Creek Ranch #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“ I never knew what could have been worse: my son coming home from war in a pine box or my son coming home a shell of his former self,” Andy Harvey said.

The older man looked every one of his sixty years. His hair was completely gray, and experience was embedded on his skin in the form of wrinkles. His father may be older, but he still handled the ranch with every hand who came to work for him.

Draven couldn’t look at his father and he also didn’t want to admit those words stirred something in him. He was afraid of what he would see if he did meet his father’s eyes. Draven would never be considered a coward, but when it came to this moment, he just couldn’t do it. So instead, he stared out at the acres of land that lay before them. Nighttime was upon them, and the dark sky was marred by the tiny twinkle of stars. He inhaled and blew out a deep breath. There was no way that he could look at the person who had raised him, taught him everything he knew about being a man, and see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say, Pops. I’m who I am,” he replied dryly.

He leaned back against his pickup truck and folded his arms across his chest. Whatever fantasy his father had about who he would be after returning home from multiple deployments and war was just that—a fantasy. This was who Draven Harvey was, and he wasn’t going to apologize either. He’d come home a year ago having retired from the Marines. He’d given his life to his country, and now it was time for him to live his in peace. The day he’d turned eighteen, Andy had escorted him down to the recruitment office so he could sign up to serve. Draven hadn’t known what he wanted to do with his life so it had been suggested he enter the service. It was an honorable thing to do, and he could figure out later which direction he went in.

Twenty-four years he’d given.

Now he lived on the ranch his father had purchased when Draven was seven years old. The Silver Creek Ranch had a sole purpose, and it was to help men and women like Draven who had come home from war broken. It was to give them a purpose in life. Help them acclimate back into society. Give them skills they could take and move on to do something else in life besides serve.

Draven had nothing but respect for his father and the ranch he had built. Draven had come home and hadn’t hesitated to join in on working the ranch. The hard work allowed him to stay busy. The exhausting work even helped him escape the nightmares that plagued him once his head hit the pillows. The horrors of war still haunted him.

“You’ve been home for a year, son, and all you do is work. You do know I employ plenty of men and women to run this ranch. You don’t have to do it all.” Andy sidled up next to him. He reached out and rested a hand on Draven’s shoulder.

Draven tensed for a moment. The hand disappeared from him. He glanced over at his father and saw nothing but sadness in his blue eyes that were the same as Draven’s.

“I do more than work, Pops.” Draven ran a hand along his face. He glanced at his watch and took in the time. If he hurried, he could get his seat at the bar he liked going to.

“Drinking your pain away doesn’t count, Draven.”

His father’s voice was stern and reminded Draven of when he and his brother, Ridge, would get in trouble. Andy had been the disciplinary parent. Their mother, Flo, had been an angel and always felt her boys could do no wrong.

“You need to live life. Find a good woman to settle down with. Start a family. I imagine when I get older you would be taking over Silver Creek. If your mother were here she’d agree with me.”

Thank God, she wasn’t here to see him now. Martha “Flo” Harvey died a little over ten years ago from an aggressive form of cervical cancer. She would be torn up if she saw him. His mother had been a saint. She always had a smile on her face, a big heart, and always made the Harvey men feel as if they could do anything.

Draven struggled with his inner demons. The time in the service had taught him many things, but his father was right. It had changed him. He had joined Marines, and they had trained him to become a weapon for war. His training, the deployments, the battles, the kills…it did something to a ma n. Changed him. Caused him to lose his soul. Draven just hoped that once it was his time to leave this earth that there was a place in Heaven for him, but he seriously doubted it. The things he’d done for his country would probably earn him a nice cozy spot in Hell.

His father could never understand what he’d been through, what’d he’d done, all in the name of their beautiful country. There were some things he would never want his father to know. If Andy did ever find out, there would be more than sadness in those eyes.

“Believe me, there isn’t enough alcohol to take it away, but dulling it does help.” Draven pushed off the truck and ran his hand through his still-damp hair. He was just going to go down to the Hen House, the popular bar in town that always had decent beer on tap and a pretty good burger. Their televisions were large, and they would have the game on. That’s all Draven wanted to do to wind down after a hard week of working the ranch. It was the weekend, and they normally had a cover band playing on Friday nights. He could ignore them as long as the game was on.

“Why don’t you watch the game here? Come up to the house. Bee has cooked?— ”

“I’m good, Pop. I’m going out to unwind and get away for a bit. I promise to be on my best behavior.” Draven smirked. He walked over to the driver’s door of his oversized pickup truck and opened it.

“That’s what I’m worried about. Just shoot me a text when you get home,” Andy muttered. The older man stepped back, away from the truck.

Draven grinned. It didn’t matter that he was forty-two years old, his father still cared about his boys. Andy gave a nod to Draven before turning on his heel and heading toward his truck. Draven watched his father drive along the road that led to the main house. It was the house where he and his brother had been raised.

Draven got into his vehicle and slammed the door shut. He hated the disappointment that showed in his father’s eyes. Maybe he should have taken the old man up on the offer to watch the game with him. It wouldn’t have hurt to have a beer with Pops and watch the game. Maybe next time.

Draven needed to get away from the ranch. He pretty much didn’t go anywhere else. Not that he really complained. Draven enjoyed being back in Ironhaven. It was the small town he’d grown up in and where he felt most comfortable. In the Marines, he’d been based in many cities and towns around the world, but nothing compared to his roots. The place where he had been born.

He started the truck and threw it in gear. He drove along the road on the ranch that led to the main road. His father had wanted his boys to both stay near him. On the ranch, both Draven and Ridge had homes built on the stead. This was their legacy, and it felt damn good to know his father would trust him to continue on his dream.

Draven rolled down the window and enjoyed the wind on his face. The radio was on a country station that was currently playing an old Willie Nelson song. He felt himself relax as the music drifted along the air. His thoughts turned to the cover band that played at the Hen House. They were pretty good. He tried to not pay them too much attention when he was there, but their lead singer was beautiful and had a voice that captured everyone’s attention. He didn’t know her name and didn’t recognize her. She must not have grown up here. Her smooth light-brown skin seemed to glow, her lips were curled up into a wide grin. She always appeared happy, and the crowd flocked to her when she got off the stage.

Draven shook his head. He attempted to push all thoughts of the siren from his head. A woman was not what he needed now, no matter what his father thought. He grimaced and tried to think of the last time he’d even been with a female. He wasn’t any good for a woman. He was fucked up in the head. Hell, he barely knew how to be in society, much less know how to court a woman.

Draven concluded that he was just going down to the Hen House for exactly what he’d told his father. To get away from the ranch, have a drink with the locals, and watch the game.

That was all.

The drive to town wasn’t long. Draven pulled his pickup truck into a parking spot at the back of the lot. His truck had been purchased brand-new, and he’d be damned if some fucking drunk knocked it because they couldn’t hold their liquor. He killed the engine and stepped out of his vehicle. There were already a ton of cars parked in the lot which led him to believe that he was right in arriving at this time.

He slid his keys in his jeans pocket and headed toward the bar. A few people lingered outside the building. He ignored them and swung open the door. The aroma of good food and cigarettes greeted him. The bouncer, Ted, stood near the door. He tipped his chin to Draven who returned the move. Draven continued on toward the bar. He bit back a grimace at how many people were already in the place.

He quickly scanned the establishment, having already memorized every exit. He took in a few men who looked as if they would be giving Ted and his crew trouble tonight. Old habits died hard. It had been Draven’s job for years to notice the littlest of details. That had saved his and his battalion’s life more than once.

His gaze drifted toward the stage where the band was setting up. He didn’t see the lead singer around. He tore his eyes away and focused on his destination. He arrived at the bar and glared at a few young punks standing near his favorite seat. They appeared to be college brats who barely had enough fuzz on their faces. They fell into a fit of laughter, and Draven grew even more irritated.

“Move,” he growled.

The two facing Draven froze in place. Their eyes widened as they took him in. The one nearest him whose back was to him spun around.

“Who the fuck—” His words died as he found himself looking at Draven’s chest. He paused and slowly tilted his head back to meet Draven’s eyes. He took a step back and jerked his head in a nod. “Yes, sir. Didn’t mean to be in your way, sir.”

The three of them immediately hightailed it away from the bar and disappeared in the crowd. Draven shook his head and plopped down in his chair. The other patrons around the bar were regulars. He nodded to them. He glanced up, and it warmed his heart to find the television already on the football game.

“I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Danny chuckled. The older bartender slid an empty glass across the counter. He already had Draven’s favorite bourbon in his hand. He poured a hefty amount and tipped his head to Draven.

Draven had known Danny almost his whole life. The bartender had gone to high school with Andy. His gray hair was kept cut close to his head, and the thick mustache was a legend.

“Appreciate this,” Draven murmured. He lifted the glass and took his first sip. Now this was what he needed after a long day on the ranch. There was nothing like a good bourbon, and Danny always ensured he stocked the best.

“Well, I’m glad you came on over. Those kids get on my damn nerves, wanting the latest drinks they saw on social media. Who the hell do they think I am?” Danny snorted.

Draven rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how Danny tolerated the younger crowd. His eyes gravitated toward the screen. As much as he liked conversing with Danny, he enjoyed watching football even more.

“You want your usual for supper?” Danny asked, pushing away from the counter.

“Yes, sir.” Draven tilted his glass to Danny, unable to take his eyes off the television. The game was just getting started. He settled in and became engrossed. His concentration was broken by the small roar from the crowd behind him, then music filled the air. Whistles and clapping followed quickly. The partiers sounded as if they were ready to get down tonight.

“How are y’all doing tonight?” A husky voice floated through the speakers.

Draven stiffened as the siren’s voice washed over him. He wanted to close his eyes and just soak up the sound of her voice. A few women screamed back their responses, then laughter followed. Draven refused to turn around. As much as he wanted to see her, he managed to sit still. Her angelic voice began singing an upbeat song. From the sounds of stomping and footsteps, people were already on the dance floor. People loved her and the band. Each Friday night the place was packed for their performance.

A figure sidled up next to Draven and waved Danny over. Draven set his empty glass down and looked at the newcomer invading his space. He hated when people got close to him. Didn’t they know they shouldn’t sneak up on a soldier—former soldier?

Draven was trained in the deadliest of combat and could seriously hurt someone. That was his gift from the Marines. The intense training he had undergone had left him a killing machine. He blinked a few times, trying hard to not fall down into memory lane. He unclenched his hand that had somehow balled into a fist.

Tom Cook, a sheep farmer who’s land was on the other side of town, met his gaze. Draven relaxed slightly. The farmer was not a threat. He did a quick perusal of the area and found everyone at the bar focused on the televisions. Draven pushed down the urge to shake Tom’s hand off him.

“Danny, put Draven’s next drink on my tab,” Tom said. He slapped Draven on the shoulder. The farmer’s son had graduated a few years after Draven. His son, Mark, had entered the Army and returned home after his first tour with one less leg.

“There’s no need, Tom,” Draven said.

Tom shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Danny came over and filled Draven’s glass again.

“You sacrificed so much so that we can sleep in our beds at night safely,” Tom said. “I’ll buy you a damn drink if I want to.”

“Many thanks.” Draven’s voice was gruff.

Tom patted him on the shoulder one last time before moving away. Draven hated the attention of the town. No one had to thank him for going to serve his country. It had been his decision. He lifted the glass and knocked it back. Fire burned his esophagus as the drink made its way down. He bit back a curse and turned around to get one glance at the stage. The siren’s voice was calling to him. He’d get one quick look at her, then he’d turn around and get back to the game.