The Cowboy Next Door: Includes a bonus novella (Montana Strong Book 2)

by R. C. Ryan

  Remove from the oven and cover loosely with aluminum foil. Let the meat rest about 15 minutes before slicing.

  Serve with garden vegetables, garlic mashed potatoes, and warm dinner rolls.

  Serves approximately 20 guests.

  What cowboy and his lady wouldn’t love this?

  About the Author

  New York Times bestselling author R. C. Ryan has written more than one hundred novels, both contemporary and historical. Quite an accomplishment for someone who, after her fifth child started school, gave herself the gift of an hour a day to follow her dream to become a writer.

  In a career spanning more than twenty years, Ms. Ryan has given dozens of radio, television, and print interviews across the country and Canada, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as the Wall Street Journal and Cosmopolitan. She has also appeared on CNN and Good Morning America.

  You can learn more about R. C. Ryan—and her alter ego Ruth Ryan Langan—at:

  RyanLangan.com

  Twitter @RuthRyanLangan

  Facebook.com/RuthRyanLangan

  Also by R. C. Ryan

  Cowboy on My Mind

  Matt

  Luke

  A Cowboy’s Christmas Eve (available as an e-novella)

  Reed

  The Maverick of Copper Creek

  The Rebel of Copper Creek

  The Legacy of Copper Creek

  Quinn

  Josh

  Jake

  Montana Legacy

  Montana Destiny

  Montana Glory

  RAVES FOR R. C. RYAN’S NOVELS

  COWBOY ON MY MIND

  “A strong, protective hero and an independent heroine fight for their future in this modern rough-and-tumble Western.”

  —Library Journal

  REED

  “4 stars! Ryan’s latest book in her Malloys of Montana series contains a heartwarming plot filled with down-to-earth cowboys and warm, memorable characters. Reed and Ally are engaging and endearing, and their sweet, fiery chemistry heats up the pages, which will leave readers’ hearts melting…A delightful read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  LUKE

  “Ryan creates vivid characters against the lovingly rendered backdrop of sweeping Montana ranchlands. The passion between Ryan’s protagonists, which they keep discreet, is tender and heartwarming. The plot is drawn in broad strokes, but Ryan expertly brings it to a satisfying conclusion.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  MATT

  “Ryan has created a gripping love story fraught with danger and lust, pain and sweet, sweet triumph.”

  —Library Journal, starred review

  “Touching and romantic, Ryan’s portrayal of a city slicker falling for a cowboy delves into the depths of each of their personalities to find common ground in their love for the land. Readers will eagerly anticipate future installments.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Keep reading for a preview

  of Born to Be a Cowboy!

  Available in fall 2019.

  Chapter One

  Haller Creek, Montana

  Monroe Ranch—Present Day

  Finn Monroe unlocked the door to his law office and tossed his battered attaché case on the desk. Then he removed his fringed buckskin jacket and draped it on the back of his chair. Both the attaché and the jacket had been gifts from his mentor, Zachariah York, when Finn had passed the bar. They’d been the old lawyer’s trademark and were now Finn’s daily uniform, as was his longer-than-typical hair. He figured if Zachariah could look like an old lion in court, he could look like a young cub.

  Finn had begun his practice here in the little town of Haller Creek by accepting every legal request that came his way, from an arrest for impaired driving to settling neighbors’ property disputes. Recently he’d snagged the attention of the national media by winning a case against the county, for the largest monetary award ever, by a small rancher who had suspected officials of blocking his herd’s access to his own water supply. There was now talk of submitting Finn’s name to be the state’s attorney general, even though he insisted it wasn’t his dream.

  Finn ignored all the background noise of politics while he continued to go about his business. Hearing the door open behind him, he glanced over his shoulder.

  “Mr. Monroe?”

  The feminine voice was soft, tentative.

  He tried not to stare, but the woman standing there looked like a corporate executive and not at all like the women who usually came to his little office here in Haller Creek.

  Instead of boots, denims, and a T-shirt, she wore heels, a sleek dress, and a matching jacket. Her blond-streaked hair fell in soft waves around a small, heart-shaped face. Except for the nerves that had her wringing her hands, she was almost too perfect to believe.

  To put her at ease, Finn stepped around his desk to offer a handshake. “My friends call me Finn. Finn Monroe.”

  “Jessica Blair.” She paused and tried to smile. It had her lips quivering. “My friends call me Jessie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jessie. You’re not from around here.”

  “I grew up in Arvid. It’s a little town about a hundred miles from here.”

  He nodded. “I’ve heard of it. Great cattle country. Did you grow up on a ranch?”

  “Yes. My aunt’s ranch. My aunt Nola, Nolinda Blair, raised me after my parents died when I was five. She’s the only family I ever had.”

  “It sounds as though you love her a lot.”

  Her eyes filled, and Finn had to resist an urge to wrap his arms around her and offer her comfort.

  Instead he indicated the chair facing his desk. “Why don’t you sit and tell me why you’re here.”

  “Please give me a minute.”

  As she sat, he rounded his desk and took a seat facing her. To give her time he asked the first question that came to him. “Is your aunt’s ranch big?”

  Jessie nodded. “Nearly a thousand acres.”

  “I bet she and her husband needed a big family to keep it all going.”

  “Aunt Nola never married. There were just the two of us. And a team of loyal wranglers who’d been with her for years.”

  “So you worked the ranch with her?”

  “I did until I left for college. And even then I came back every chance I had and every summer. I’ve always loved living on her ranch.”

  Seeing the glint of fresh tears, he gave her time to compose herself. “I know what you mean. My family has a ranch outside of town. When I’m not here, I’m more at home on a tractor or riding in the high country with the herds.”

  Her eyes brightened. “You’re a rancher? Then you understand how important the land is.”

  “I do.” He folded his hands, hoping to ease her into the reason for her visit. “If you grew up in Arvid, why are you here?”

  “When I went on the Internet and researched the town of Haller Creek, yours was the only law office listed.”

  “Why Haller Creek?”

  “My aunt mentioned it. She said that’s where her new ranch foreman once worked.”

  “Does your aunt want me to look into this wrangler’s background?”

  She shook her head. “I’m here because…” Again that threat of tears. When her lower lip quivered, she bit down before speaking in a rush as though she needed to get everything out. “I believe my aunt has been murdered, and her estate stolen by a smooth-talking cowboy.”

  Finn let out a slow breath. “That’s a pretty inflammatory statement. Did you identify her body?”

  “There’s no…” She tried again. “She’s gone. Just…gone.”

  “So your aunt’s missing?”

  She nodded.

  “And this ranch foreman…”

  “Wayne Stone.” She lifted a handkerchief to her nose as if she’d just smelled something distasteful.

  “Wayne Stone is the smooth-talking cowboy you mentioned?”

  Another nod while she twisted the handkerchi
ef around and around her fingers.

  “Have you gone to the police with your suspicions?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her head to glance at him. “They looked into it. They said the marriage was valid, and there was no sign of foul play.”

  “Marriage? When did your aunt marry him?”

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “That must have been a surprise. Did she tell you about it before the wedding?”

  “She called me the day they were getting married, on the way to town. She said after the wedding they were leaving for a honeymoon. And there hasn’t been a word from her since.”

  “I’m guessing your feelings were hurt that she waited so long to let you know.”

  “This isn’t about my hurt feelings.” A big tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it aside. “It isn’t like Aunt Nola to do something like this. This is completely out of character.”

  “It may not be usual, but a lonely woman has the right to share her life with someone. That doesn’t make it a crime.”

  “You don’t understand. She couldn’t bear to be away from the ranch for more than a few days at a time. And now she’s been gone for over two weeks without a word. I just know something’s wrong.”

  Finn steepled his hands on the desk. “Miss Blair, you don’t need a lawyer. If the police won’t help, and you want to pursue this further, I’d suggest a private detective.”

  “I hired one.” She dug into her pocket and held out a business card.

  Finn took it and read the name. “Matthew Carver. Retired FBI agent.” He looked over at her. “Are you happy with his work?”

  She nodded. “He called to say he had some news. He sounded…agitated. We were supposed to meet yesterday.”

  “Let me guess.” Finn sat back, folding his hands atop the desk. “He never showed up, and you realize he skipped town with your money.”

  “No.” Another tear slipped out and she brushed it aside. “He was involved in a hit-and-run accident on the interstate. He’s dead, and whatever information he had for me died with him.”

  Finn experienced a little tingling at the base of his spine—a sure sign that he was beginning to get sucked into something he’d rather not be involved in. “A good investigator would have kept notes. Could you call his office and ask his assistant…”

  “I called. Her name is Bev, and she’s his wife. She was so grief-stricken she could barely speak, but she said when his belongings were returned to her, his briefcase, his computer, and all his notes were not among them.”

  The little tingling just got stronger.

  Finn sat staring at the woman across the desk, mulling the consequences of what he was about to do. If he took this case, he’d be up to his eyebrows in work that could keep him from more pressing matters.

  Still, there was that tingle.

  And the fact that he was looking at just about the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

  He dismissed that out of hand. He wasn’t stupid enough to let important work pile up where he pursued some lame story for the sake of a pretty face.

  Was he?

  Yeah, maybe he was.

  And right now, though he could think of all the reasons why he should send her packing, the only thing that mattered at the moment was getting a chance to know more about the fascinating Jessica Blair and her story. And maybe, just maybe, he could help her.

  “I’ll need a lot more information than this.” He lifted a packet of documents from his desk drawer and passed them to her. “I’d like you to fill these out. If I need more, where can I find you?”

  She took in a deep breath like a woman who’d been plucked from a frigid lake and had been going down for the third time. “I checked into the Dew Drop Inn on the interstate last night so I could find you first thing today.”

  “Okay.” He shoved back his chair. “While you answer everything on these pages, I’ll head on over to Dolly’s Diner and bring back coffee. How do you take it?”

  “Two sugars and two creams.”

  He grinned. “So you like a little coffee with your cream and sugar.”

  That remark brought a half-smile to her lips.

  As he started down the street, he was chuckling to himself. He’d figured that a woman like that would take her coffee black.

  His smile suddenly dissolved when he realized it may not be the only wrong impression he’d had. As he began to put time and distance between them on the walk to Dolly’s and back, he began to question his rash decision to take this on.

  Jessica Blair could turn out to be a jealous, vindictive relative who’d just discovered she’d been locked out of a hefty inheritance. And though her nerves looked real enough, she could be nothing more than a really good actress playing on his sympathy.

  “Two creams. Two sugars.” Finn set the lidded cup on the edge of his desk before taking his chair and picking up the completed pages.

  As he started to read, he looked up. “You’re an accountant?”

  “A certified public accountant with Ayers and Lanyer.”

  At the mention of one of the state’s biggest firms, he lifted a brow. He would have pegged her for something in the public eye. Modeling. TV news.

  “I’ve taken a leave of absence until this matter with my aunt is resolved. My boss isn’t happy about it, but I had leave time coming, so he had no choice but to agree to my request.”

  Finn nodded. “Then there’s no time to waste. I’ll begin by running a check on Wayne Stone. If he worked on ranches in Haller Creek, he should be easy to find. From time to time I employ a detective, Basil Caldwell, also a retired FBI agent, and I trust him to be thorough and discreet. He should have something for me by the end of the day. Give me a number where I can reach you.”

  She spoke the numbers and he entered them in his cell phone’s contacts before giving her his number, as well.

  “As soon as I hear from Basil, I’ll call you with the information.”

  For the first time her smile wasn’t forced or nervous. “Thank you, Finn. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “Don’t bother to thank me yet. The police could prove to be right, and we’ll find we don’t even have a case.”

  She touched a hand to her heart. “I don’t care what the police think. I know I’m right. And I know when your detective starts checking, he’ll know it, too. I know my aunt well enough to know she would never willingly be gone from her ranch this long.”

  Finn watched her walk out the door before sitting down to read through the papers she’d filled out. Her handwriting was easy to read. He wished he could say the same for the woman. He wouldn’t be the first guy to lose his perspective because of a pretty face. What he liked even more was that she had a good mind to go with the looks. Anyone working for Ayers and Lanyer had to be sharp. But that didn’t mean she was to be trusted. He intended to reserve judgment until he found out more about Jessica and her aunt.

  Because if he’d learned one thing since going into this business, it was the fact that a good mind and a pretty face could mask a greedy heart.

  SAVED BY

  THE COWBOY

  A. J. Pine

  Olivia Belle has always believed in fairy tales…until the moment her boyfriend dropped to one knee. When Olivia speeds into Cash Hawkins’s town like a modern-day Cinderella in a ball gown and glass slippers, Cash’s careful existence is thrown for a loop. Olivia could be his happily ever after…if this runaway bridesmaid doesn’t run off with his heart.

  New York Boston

  Chapter One

  Sheriff Cash Hawkins sat comfortably in his police-issue Chevy Tahoe. There was a beef brisket sandwich from BBQ on the Bluff cooling in the bag on the passenger seat. He’d just cued up a new audiobook on his phone and connected the Bluetooth. His German shepherd, Dixie, chewed on her rawhide in the back.

  A pretty perfect Saturday night if he did say so himself. Well—except for the thick, calligraphied square envelope sticking out from the passenger seat visor. St
ill unopened.

  He unrolled the top of the takeout bag and breathed in the savory aroma of homemade barbecue sauce and locally sourced beef.

  “Damn, that Lily Green can cook. Can’t she, Dixie girl?” he called back to his companion. But then he remembered that Lily and Tucker Green—the husband and wife duo who’d opened the restaurant together—had just split, Tucker having bought out her portion of the business.

  “Still her sauce recipe, right?” he asked aloud. “Tucker wouldn’t be fool enough to let the woman go without getting all her secret recipes.” And yes, he knew he was talking to the dog. He and Dixie had some of their best conversations on quiet Saturday nights doing traffic patrol. It was why he always insisted on taking the shift, even though as sheriff he sure as hell didn’t have to. He liked it. Not that he’d let any of the other officers at the station know.

  First he set up the radar and positioned it in the direction of oncoming traffic, though he knew there’d be none. There never was. He pressed play on the audiobook, then started removing the foil wrapper from the sandwich, readying himself for that long anticipated first bite, when his teeth sank into the warm, toasted roll and all the good stuff in between.

  Except something in the distance caught his eye—a car barreling down the opposite side of the street way too fast for comfort. He didn’t need an official readout to tell him it was well over the limit. Still, he sighed, laid the sandwich on top of the bag in the passenger seat, and readied his finger on the trigger of the radar gun.