How to Love a Cowboy

Home > Other > How to Love a Cowboy > Page 1
How to Love a Cowboy Page 1

by Jessa James




  How To Love A Cowboy

  Cowboy Romance - Book 1

  Jessa James

  Get A Free Book!

  Join my mailing list to be the first to know of new releases, free books, special prices and other author giveaways.

  http://freehotcontemporary.com

  * * *

  Contents

  About How To Love A Cowboy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Want more? Read The Teacher & The Virgin

  How To Hold A Cowboy - Chapter One

  Get A Free Book!

  Jessa James Books

  About the Author

  How To Love A Cowboy: Copyright © 2018 by Jessa James

  * * *

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.

  * * *

  Published by Jessa James

  James, Jessa

  How To Love A Cowboy

  * * *

  Cover design copyright 2018 by Jessa James, Author

  Images/Photo Credit: Deposit Photos: aarrttuurr

  * * *

  Publisher’s Note:

  This book was written for an adult audience. The book may contain explicit sexual content. Sexual activities included in this book are strictly fantasies intended for adults and any activities or risks taken by fictional characters within the story are neither endorsed nor encouraged by the author or publisher.

  This book has been previously published.

  About How To Love A Cowboy

  Pete

  * * *

  The Killarny Estate is getting ready for the Waters Derby. I still remember little Sara Waters and how she’d grabbed and kissed me in the barn on the Waters property when she was 10 years old. The last time I’d seen her I’d been with my ex-wife, Kelly. The only good thing out of that marriage had been my 12-year-old daughter. I haven't had a solid relationship since.

  When Sara shows up at the ranch to tell me that her dad isn’t letting the Killarny’s enter the derby, that we’re doing

  something illegal, well let's just say, I didn't take it very well. There’s no way in hell we’re not going, and no way in hell I can stay away from that hot, little body.

  * * *

  Sara

  * * *

  My father’s instructions were clear – tell the Killarny’s they can’t race. Our families have history and I refuse to tell them over the phone, so I'll drive to the Estate to tell them in person. But Pete Killarny refuses to accept my dad’s decision. Who am I supposed to believe: the father who’s cared for me all my life or the hot cowboy I’ve loved since I was 10 years old?

  * * *

  If fantasies involving hay lofts give you a thrill, along with the thought of a family of HOT brothers, read on…

  1

  Pete

  * * *

  I closed the ledger and leaned back into the rich cherry colored leather of the desk chair. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, thinking about how much easier things had been when my father was around running things at Killarny Estate. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t become accustomed to over the years. Being the oldest of the five Killarny brothers, it was expected from birth that I would be the one to take over the day to day running of the ranch. While all the brothers were equal partners in running the ranch, it was I who was the most responsible. Ask anyone. It was also me that my dad had turned to back when my mother, Emily Killarny, had first been diagnosed with breast cancer.

  At my mother’s request, I took on the additional tasks that my father had usually taken care of. Most of it was business, the sort of thing that didn’t capture my attention quite like the quiet, meditative work with the horses, but I knew what had to be done. Most of all, I hadn’t wanted to let my mother down.

  Emily Killarny was a force unto herself, but she had a kind and good heart, and above all, she loved her children. I was aware that I had a special place in her heart when she had gone out of her way to be the best kind of grandmother she could be to Emma. I’d been dejected and alone, raising a two year old daughter alone after my ex-wife, Kelly, decided one day that motherhood and married life wasn’t for her. My parents had been so kind to us in the days following that abandonment, and I would forever be grateful to both of them. My mother had especially done all that she could to make sure that Emma felt safe and loved after her mother’s abrupt departure.

  Back then my major responsibilities had been tending to the horses, something I still loved and wished I was able to do more of, but being the oldest, and since my father had relocated to Costa Rica, I knew I had to be the one to step up to the plate. My mother’s death three years prior had taken a toll on the family patriarch, and after suffering a severe bout of depression, he finally decided to make some major changes. One of those changes included leaving the states and relocating to a warmer climate, leaving the green Kentucky hills behind him in favor of sun and sand. Some days I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of that, but I knew that my heart would always be right here, wherever Emma was.

  I opened my eyes again and looked at my computer screen for a moment before getting up and heading for the door, grabbing my jacket on the way. There was still a chill in the air that early in the Kentucky spring and it was invigorating to step out into the morning air, breathing in the fresh smell of new grass and the less pleasing scent wafting from the nearest barn. The smell of manure might not have appealed to everyone, but for me, it was a reminder of home and childhood.

  I breathed in the air and made my way over to the stables where my brother Alex was brushing out the coat of a two year old mare.

  “She looks beautiful,” I said as I came up to stand on the other side of the stall door.

  Alex nodded. “Siobhan is quite a looker.” He brushed her russet coat to a glistening sheen that caught the early morning sun and made the horse look like a copper penny.

  “You think we’ll run her next year?” I asked him as I looked over the horse from nose to tail. She was beautiful, but I wasn’t sure if she was one of the horses that we would end up taking to the many derbies we were involved in.

  Alex shrugged. “Not sure. She hasn’t been run that much, and I really think that if we had planned on doing that with her, she should have seen a little more practice at this point in her life. I think she is a great horse, but I’m not sure the derby life is the one for her. However, I do think she is going to give us a lot of talented foals.”

  Alex was probably the quietest of all the brothers, so hearing him talk this much was a little unusual. The only time Alex had much to say was when he was talking about a horse. Not much for words and usually keeping to himself, he was definitely the most horse whisperer like among us and was more involved with the training of individuals here at the ranch. He was so in tune with the horses that it helped to have his expertise around to help people become accustomed to green horses. While most of our horses were bred here on the ranch, we did keep a group of wild ponies from the Dakotas on one of the spreads of land that was fenced off from the rest. Alex’s house was out there and visiting that part of the ranch felt like entering a wilderness. I could see why my parents had given him that parcel when they were divvying up the land to us. It fit my younger brother’s personality perfectly, and he was never happier than he was when he was among
the wild horses.

  “Her mother is Spring, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and her father was David’s Lariat.”

  David’s Lariat had been one of Alex’s favorites. A horse that my father had acquired from a Colorado ranch when we were still very young, the horse had been a monster of an animal when we got him. He stood taller than any of our other horses but managed to be faster than almost any horse half his weight. He was a marvel and had produced many of our fastest horses. David’s Lariat had died just a year before, but we still had a few of his offspring around the ranch and would likely see his influence in our derby horses for decades to come.

  “Well, even if she isn’t going to run for us, she’s a beautiful girl, and I’m sure she’ll give us a few great runners.”

  “What are you up to?” Alex asked as he put away the brush and stepped out of the stall to join me where I stood.

  I shrugged. “Just needed to get out of the office for a little while.”

  “Already?” He looked at his watch. “It’s early in the day. Why don’t you hire someone to take care of some of the stuff you don’t enjoy? That’s what bookkeepers are for, after all. It would give you a break and let you have a chance to get back out here with the horses where you want to be.”

  Alex was perceptive with more than just the horses.

  “Yeah, well, I might do that after the next couple of derbies have passed. I’ve got too much on my plate right now to hand it over to someone totally new.”

  My brother sighed and shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just don’t be afraid to ask for a little help when you need it.”

  I gave him a firm pat on the back and continued on down through the stables, past the stalls that housed our many horses. A few of our ranch hands were leading some of the horses out to graze in the pasture, while some of them were headed to the arena and our track for training. As I exited the other end of the massive stable, I saw Emma atop her horse, Saoirse.

  “How’dya do, Miss Emma Lou?”

  Emma frowned at me, and I could see her brow furrowing under her helmet. I knew she hated it when I referred to her middle name, Louise, but told myself that someday she would come to think of it as endearing, so I kept up the practice.

  She tossed her head back. “Saoirse and I just went out for our morning run. I was about to take her back to the stable and then head in for my lessons. Is Hetty here yet?”

  I shook my head. “She wasn’t there when I left the house, but there’s a good chance she’s arrived by now. Better hurry on back, you don’t want to be late.”

  My twelve year old daughter beamed at me from where she sat on her horse and headed into the stable before dismounting. I watched her lead her young horse into the stall and couldn’t help but notice how much she was starting to look like her mother. It wasn’t a bad thing, but I did wonder how Emma would feel as she looked in the mirror and started to notice the resemblance she shared with the woman who left her—and me—behind when Emma was just a toddler.

  I walked toward the pasture as I recalled the time directly after Kelly left. It had been a shock to me when it happened, but when I had a little time to think it over, nothing about it was too surprising. We had married straight out of high school, and my parents had been opposed to the match from the start. Kelly’s parents were business owners in the nearest town, and ours had been the kind of wedding that made the local papers. Our courtship had been brief — we dated at the end of high school, and because I was an idiot, I had proposed to Kelly not long after graduation. We married and moved into a house here at Killarny Estate and had had a hell of a time for the first couple of years.

  Kelly was wild and looking back I could tell she had been just a little too wild for me. It wasn’t something I had noticed at the time, and while it was just the two of us, it was easy to forget that we were stepping into a new world that included all sorts of new responsibilities. Back then we would spend our weekends hopping around the bars in town before heading back to the privacy of our house at the ranch and going at it like rabbits. It was no surprise when Kelly got pregnant, and I was overjoyed, but she didn’t seem too enthused about it. Slowly she warmed to the idea, and once Emma was born, I could see that she really did love our daughter.

  Things were never the same though. Kelly never looked at me the same way, and I tried to encourage her to go see a doctor to see if what she was struggling with was postpartum depression, but she wouldn’t listen.

  I came home one evening to find all of Kelly’s things gone, a note on the kitchen table, and Emma wailing in her playpen. I had picked up my daughter and the note and read the words through tears as Emma sniffled and buried her head against my shoulder. Kelly was gone. She apologized in the letter, said she was heading to California to pursue her dream of being an actress, and that she was going with her friend, Bud.

  Bud was the guy she had dated before me in high school, and suddenly it all started to make sense. We never really heard from her after that, aside from a Christmas card or a birthday present for Emma on the years that Kelly remembered, which were few and far between.

  As far as I knew, Emma had no real memory of her mother. It made me sad, but I wondered if it was for the best that she didn’t know what she was missing out on. If Kelly had hung around much longer, it would have been more difficult than it already was to get Emma used to not having her mother around.

  I had been so grateful to my parents for the support they were during that time, especially my mother. She had done all she could to be the maternal figure in my daughter’s life, but she never stopped pressing me to go on dates and get out there again, constantly reminding me that I was still young and there was happiness out there for me if I would just go looking for it.

  Her last attempt had been just a few years before she passed away when I had first hired Hetty Blackburn, a local teacher, to be Emma’s tutor. The ranch was well out of the way, and it was quite a hike to the nearest school, so I had decided to homeschool Emma. It gave her a chance to be around the horses more and to study at her own pace, which was quite a bit faster than the average elementary school student, according to Hetty.

  Hetty was pretty and a very sweet woman. Her black hair and blue eyes were a sort of bewitching combination that was hard to ignore, but I couldn’t get back into dating; not then and not now, even though it was 10 years since Kelly walked out. Even if I hadn’t already been very hesitant to date, Hetty already had one major strike against her—she knew my daughter.

  I leaned against the bright white fence and watched as a group of our horses played together in the dewy field that was filled with clover. The place was even more picturesque than usual in this light. Killarny Estate was really something to be proud of, and I was so glad to have the privilege of being a part of a four generation horse ranch, the largest one in Kentucky, and now, for all intents and purposes, running the place.

  One rule I had established for myself was that until I knew I could trust a woman, she would never meet my daughter. And since I wasn’t in the mood to start dating yet, nothing had ever made it that far. Sure, I had been with women since Kelly—too many to count—but I was there to get what I wanted and get out. I never went out with anyone that I thought was there for more than what I was because I had more heart than that. But I didn’t trust anyone to give me any more than what I was looking for at the moment. It was sex, pure and simple—though rarely pure or simple. I was there for a release, to have sex, hear them scream my name, and then leave quietly. The closest I had ever come to bringing a woman home was the Lawrence girl who I made it all the way back to the ranch with, but we never left my truck. We had made it as far as the pecan grove when I pulled over and had her right there in the cab of my pickup. When we were done, I turned around and drove her right back to her house. But that had been the last one, and that had been a long time ago now.

  There was no need to complicate my life any more than it already was and I was certainly not going to bring any of
these women into the life of my daughter. She had already experienced enough pain from my poor choices, and I wasn’t going to do that to her again.

  My middle brother, Jake, came riding up on his stallion and brought the horse to a quick halt a few feet away from me.

  “Showing off?” I asked as I cocked my eyebrow at him.

  He swung down off the saddle and gave the horse a pat. “This bastard is ready to run!”

  Clement certainly looked like he was ready for it. His eyes were wild, but it was clear that he was happy after his morning run with Jake.

  “Think about how fast he’s going to be with one of the jockeys on him!”

  I nodded. “We’re taking him to the Waters derby, right?”

  “Yup, just a couple of weeks away now.”

  I noted to myself that I needed to check that out on the calendar. There was still a lot left to do in preparation, and we weren’t sure how many horses we would be taking. Clement was certainly on the top of the list, but I knew we needed to have a few backups. Killarny Estate had always been top of the pack as far as producing some of the fastest race horses in the country, but ever since my father had packed it up and gone to Costa Rica, it felt like we had lost some of our edge. I had no idea what it was Dad had that we didn’t quite have down yet, other than the forty years of experience. What I did know was that it was crucial for us to win this derby. Things were tight, and if we were going to turn them around and maintain things the way they were around here, or if we were ever going to have any hope of making Killarny the very best again, we had to win the Waters derby.

 

‹ Prev