For cattle rancher Laramie Bowman, family always comes first. After her brother is injured in a rodeo accident, she accepts a lucrative position in remote Godoroye, Russia, to help pay his medical bills. When she meets the woman assigned to be her interpreter, however, her heart might end up getting lost in translation.
Anastasia Petrova would prefer to remain on the front lines of the seemingly futile fight for gay rights in her conservative homeland, but dwindling finances force her to leave Moscow to take a full-time job working as a translator for a pair of American trainers on a start-up cattle ranch. If she comes out to her new coworkers, she could lose the job she so desperately needs. But when she meets gorgeous cowgirl Laramie, how can she possibly deny her feelings?
What Reviewers Say About Yolanda Wallace’s Work
24/7
“This story is intense, exciting, a bit erotic, romantic and very, very good!!”—Prism Book Alliance
“Ms. Wallace as always delivers an entertaining read that is fun and well researched. Thrill seekers this is your book.”—The Romantic Reader Blog
Break Point
“I adored this book. I’m not big into tennis but I cared about both of the main characters. I like that they both basically stuck to their morals to do the right thing rather than the thing that people were trying to make them do instead.”—Blow Pop’s Book Reviews
“Wallace captures the spirit of the time, from the changing attitudes of the Great Depression, to the terrifying oppression of the Third Reich, working in real events and people to construct a vibrant setting. The romance is strong…”—Publishers Weekly
“[Break Point] is so full of suspense, gads I nearly bit my fingernails to the quick! The characters are so easy to care about. The near constant anxiety as I worried endlessly for Meike’s life was almost too intense. It was interesting to see Helen grow and so painful to see what Meike was put through but when they were together it was such a relief!”—Prism Book Alliance
“Break Point is a heart wrenching story set at the height of WWII with a refreshing perspective—of Germans who do not endorse of the actions of Hitler and his henchmen and of an American being manipulated by an FBI agent for government purposes. This is countered with the love story of two people, who might be destined to find completion together, but first, they must overcome obstacles that sometimes seem impossible—a compelling tale of history and compassion, destiny and enduring love.”—Lambda Literary Review
“If you are a sports fan this book will definitely appeal to you. …[A] well written tale.”—The Romantic Reader Blog
Divided Nation, United Hearts
“I found myself totally immersed in the story of Wil Fredericks, a woman who runs away to join the Union army disguised as a man and meets the woman of her dreams. …Yolanda Wallace has managed to write a wonderful love story set against the worst of times. I loved it and highly recommend this book. Five stars!”—Kitty Kat’s Book Review Blog
“Divided Nations, United Hearts delivers on its promise.”—Just Love Reviews
Tailor-Made
“An enjoyable romance that hit several harder-to-find demographics in the lesbian romance market: a religiously observant protagonist, an interracial relationship, and a gender-nonconforming protagonist.”—Veronica Koven-Matasy, Librarian, Boston Public Library
“Wallace has proven to be a varied writer who crafts diverse characters in a wide range of settings, and this take on a simple, sweet, butch/femme love story really showcases her soft writing style and firm grasp of lesbian romance. This story reads easily and flows smoothly. It had me smiling from the first page”—Love Bytes Reviews
True Colors
“[In True Colors], Robby has three jobs, none of which is likely to endear her to the President or his advisors. As well as working in her friend’s shop, she also writes a pseudonymous political blog and performs as a go-go dancer in a popular lesbian bar. When [the President’s daughter] Taylor asks her on a date, Robby at first thinks only of the gossip she might pick up for her blog. As the two grow closer, however, Robby—as well as Taylor—has to work out how much, if any, of her life she is prepared to sacrifice for love. I really enjoyed this book. …I definitely want to investigate this author’s back catalogue as soon as I get some spare reading time.”—The Good, The Bad and The Unread
The War Within
“The War Within has a masterpiece quality to it. It’s a story of the heart told with heart—a story to be savored—and proof that you’re never too old to find (or rediscover) true love.”—Lambda Literary Review
Rum Spring
“The writing was possibly the best I’ve seen for the modern lesfic genre, and the premise and setting was intriguing. I would recommend this one.”—The Lesbrary
Murphy’s Law
“Prepare to be thrilled by a love story filled with high adventure as they move toward an ending as turbulent as the weather on a Himalayan peak.”—Lambda Literary Review
Lucky Loser
“Yolanda Wallace is a great writer. Her character work is strong, the story is compelling, and the pacing is so good that I found myself tearing through the book within a day and a half.”—The Lesbian Review
Comrade Cowgirl
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Comrade Cowgirl
© 2019 By Yolanda Wallace. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-376-5
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: March 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design By Jeanine Henning
By the Author
In Medias Res
Rum Spring
Lucky Loser
Month of Sundays
Murphy’s Law
The War Within
Love’s Bounty
Break Point
24/7
Divided Nation, United Hearts
True Colors
Tailor-Made
Pleasure Cruise
Comrade Cowgirl
Writing as Mason Dixon:
Date with Destiny
Charm City
21 Questions
Acknowledgments
I always empathize with my characters when I’m working on a manuscript. Since this book is set on a Russian cattle ranch, I alternately found myself freezing from nonexistent frigid temperatures and craving cheeseburgers that were all too real. Note to self: pick a warmer (and less fattening) locale next time.
Writing is hard work, whether you’re working on your first book or your twentieth. Though it doesn’t get any easier over time, it does get to be more fun. I had a blast writing Comrade Cowgirl, and I hope you enjoy spending time with the characters as much as I did.
I would like to extend my usual thanks to Radclyffe, Sandy, Cindy, and the rest of the Bold Strokes Books team for providing the incredible support system that allows me to continue indulging my favorite hobby.
> I would also like to thank the readers for their continued support. You. Are. Awesome.
As always, I would like to thank Dita for continuing to put up with me and all the characters in my head. Ride ’em, cowgirl!
Dedication
To Dita,
Your love of Westerns finally rubbed off on me.
Chapter One
Laramie Bowman hated hospitals. She hadn’t been inside one since she was born. Leave it to Trey to break her streak. Then again, breaking things was something her big brother was especially good at.
There were two hundred six bones in the human body and Trey had broken at least a dozen of his over the years, some more than once. And that was before he had decided to leave the family ranch behind in order to pursue his dream of finding fame and fortune on the rodeo circuit.
Trey was an excellent roper and he could wrestle steer with the best of them, but he was only a fair bull rider, the rodeo event that garnered the most attention from fans and media alike. Thanks to his skills in the timed events, he had been able to rack up enough points to win several competitions. He had the requisite collection of gaudy trophies and even gaudier belt buckles to show for it. More often than not, though, he finished well off the podium but inside the top eight, earning him just enough money to keep fueling his dreams.
His goal was to win one of the major events on the circuit so he could sign a lucrative endorsement deal and save some of the money he spent keeping himself and his horse fed and his piece of crap truck on the road. The sturdy pony was fairly young, but the ancient Ford was on its last legs. Depending on what the doctor said when he got out of surgery, Trey’s rodeo career might be, too.
Laramie held her hat in her hands as she paced the halls of Broken Branch General Hospital. Trey had been hurt before, but never this bad. She closed her eyes while images of Trey’s accident played through her mind.
Trey had lasted the full eight seconds on the bull he had been riding, a fifteen-hundred-pound Brahman with a bad disposition and an even worse reputation. When he had jumped off the bull and attempted to clear the ring so he could see how the judges had scored his ride, the bucking, spinning bull had made an unexpected turn.
The animal’s huge haunches had caught Trey in the side, sending him flying through the air. The crowd, Laramie included, had watched in horror as Trey had slammed into the unforgiving fence surrounding the ring. The bullfighters, once known as rodeo clowns, had prevented the bull from charging Trey’s broken body as he lay unconscious in the dirt. Now Laramie and her parents were waiting to see how much damage had been done.
Laramie fingered the bib number pinned to her denim shirt. She had entered the women’s barrel racing event so she could test her skills against Sherry Sampson, the sixty-year-old living legend who was favored to win the world championship for the umpteenth time, but she hadn’t had a chance to tackle the cloverleaf-shaped course before she had rushed out of the stands to kneel by Trey’s side. She had wasted her entry fee and a chance to earn a semi-decent prize check, but no matter. For her, family was more important than monetary rewards.
Rodeo was something she occasionally did for fun. It wasn’t a way of life. Ranching was. All she had ever wanted to do was follow in her father’s footsteps. To carry on the family legacy. She wished Trey felt the same. If he did, chances were he wouldn’t be in the mess he was in now—busted up and out of commission for the foreseeable future.
“Trey’s been into worse scrapes than this and came out smiling,” Laramie’s mother, Nancy, said. “He’ll be fine this time, too.”
Laramie didn’t know who her mother was trying to convince, the friends and family members crowded into the small waiting room, or herself.
Laramie’s father, Thaddeus Bowman Jr., was the quintessential cowboy. Hardworking, honorable, and economical with both his affection and his words.
“Yep.” He patted Laramie’s mother’s knee. “He’s a tough one, all right.”
“He gets it from you, Thad.” Shorty Johnson, one of the hands on Laramie’s family’s ranch, chuckled as he scratched his stubbled chin. The creases in the deep lines etched around his mouth were stained with tobacco juice. He was one of the wisest men Laramie had ever met, but he obviously hadn’t learned not to spit into the wind. “I remember the time you worked all day with a busted leg because you was too stubborn to admit it was broke.”
Laramie’s father’s mustache twitched as he tried not to smile. “I reckon that might have smarted some.”
“Hell, it hurt me, and I ain’t the one who was stuck in a cast for two months.”
Chuck Kelsey and Grant Mills, two other ranch hands, joined in the fun.
“That’s ’cause the docs can’t make casts small enough to fit your skinny frame,” Chuck said. “Anything they tried to put on you would probably slide down your leg like a stretched-out sock.”
“I ’spect they’d have to try the kids’ size,” Grant said.
“Sounds about right.”
Chuck and Grant, whose combined age was nearly a decade less than Shorty’s, shared a laugh at the older man’s expense.
Shorty’s ears turned red like they always did whenever someone got his goat. He stretched himself to his full five feet six inches and puffed out his scrawny chest. “I might be small, but I still pack a punch. Do either of you cocky bastards want to try me on for size?”
“You boys settle down now,” Laramie’s mother said. She treated all the ranch hands like family, whether they were related to her or not. They gladly returned the favor. Some hadn’t been home in so long she was practically the only mother they had. “This isn’t the time or place for all that foolishness.”
Chuck and Grant stared at their worn boots as they mumbled words of contrition.
“Sorry, Miss Nancy.”
“You’re right, Miss Nancy. Apologies.”
Shorty and Laramie’s mother were about the same age, but he looked chastened, too. “Is there anything you need us to do for you while we wait?”
“You can say a prayer or two in the chapel if you’re of a mind.”
Shorty looked like he was willing to do anything in the world except that. He ran a work-roughened hand through his thinning salt-and-pepper hair. “I’ve never been on what you might call a first-name basis with the man upstairs, but I’ll give it a try if you think it might help. Come on, boys. Let’s go take a knee.”
Chuck and Grant followed behind Shorty like a couple of calves trying to keep up with the herd. They had been doing that since the day they were hired. Even though he’d say otherwise if asked, Shorty liked their attention. They teased him sometimes, as young men were known to do, but when it came time to work, they didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. Shorty was their mentor and they, like the rest of the ranch hands, were willing to work themselves into the ground in order to earn his respect.
After Shorty, Chuck, and Grant left, Laramie’s mother turned her attention in Laramie’s direction. “Sit down before you wear a path in the floor.”
Laramie didn’t like sitting still. After countless years of twelve- to fourteen-hour days, she was used to being on the move. To always having something to do besides sit and wait and imagine the worst. But she dutifully did as she was told.
“Are you worried about Trey?” her mother asked.
Laramie shook her head as the clock on the wall silently marked the passing of another hour. “He’s too stubborn to go out like this.”
“Then what’s on your mind?”
Laramie didn’t want to say, but her parents had taught her to be unfailingly honest.
“I’m worried about how we’re going to pay for all this. Insurance covers only so much, and the ranch’s finances are tight as it is without adding Trey’s medical bills to the mix. If he gets out of—” Seeing her mother’s stricken expression, she quickly corrected herself. “When he gets out of here, he’s probably going to be in rehab for a while. Physical therapy isn’t cheap.”
He
r father regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Are you thinking about accepting that job offer?”
Laramie nodded. “I don’t see any other way.”
A few months before, the ranch was one of many in the area that had received an email from Sergei Ivanov, a Russian businessman whose fortunes had taken a hit after the bottom fell out of the oil market. To recoup his losses, he had decided to join the recently reinvigorated Russian agricultural industry. He bought thousands of acres of pastureland in the central part of the country, stocked it with cattle, and hired a bunch of locals to feed and care for them.
According to Sergei’s email, the locals didn’t have any idea how to do the jobs they had been hired to do, and he was on the lookout for two experienced ranchers to show them the ropes. Preferably American and preferably from Wyoming since the state’s climate was so similar to central Russia’s—relatively mild in the summer and nearly desolate in the winter.
Laramie’s father had taken one look at the amount of money Ivanov said he was willing to pay and laughed off the email as too good to be true. Laramie, however, hadn’t been able to dismiss the offer so easily. If Sergei was true to his word, he could provide her and her family a much-needed lifeline.
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