The Cowboy’s Bride Collection: 9 Historical Romances Form on Old West Ranches

by Susan Page Davis, Vickie McDonough, Susanne Dietze, Nancy J. Farrier, Miralee Ferrell, Darlene Franklin, Davalynn Spencer, Becca Whitham

  Jonah was so close CJ could smell ginger on his breath. “I’m your foreman. Let me do what you hired me for.”

  “So you keep reminding me.” Jonah’s jaw muscle twitched. He leaned forward. To intimidate her? Hmmm.

  CJ leaned forward as well. She could feel warmth from his face. “And why did you send some of my hands out to check the trap? We’re going to round up the mustangs tomorrow and you have them out there scaring away the horses as we speak. That’s your livelihood.”

  Jonah’s face whitened. Maybe he was furious at being challenged. Or maybe he’d wised up and realized messing with her job to get her to quit was going to cost him if he wasn’t careful.

  “My horse.” He pointed to Remmy. “My mustangs. My ranch.”

  “It’s all going to come a cropper if you’re not careful.” CJ shot back in grand Charlie-style.

  “‘Come a cropper’? What in blazes?”

  “Come to ruin. Fail. Mess up. Pick one, Mr. Sparks. If you don’t let me do my job, it’s going to sting you like a mean old scorpion, and you’ll take the fall. Not me.”

  Jonah moved in closer. Dear Lord above, have mercy. CJ swallowed, trying to keep up her gumption. Fine. She’d admit it. She lied to herself and everyone around. She had read dime novels. Her drawer was stuffed full of them, and this was a scene pulled from the center pages of one.

  His blue eyes were icier than anything she’d ever seen in the desert. They set her on fire. Which shouldn’t happen, ’cause ice was cold. So why did heat spread through her like a woodstove on a winter’s day in Alaska?

  Jonah’s finger rose and began to dot every one of her horrific, ugly freckles. “I. Will. Own. My. Mistakes.”

  His finger paused on the largest freckle just above her upper lip.

  CJ lost her breath. Tarnation. He’d cornered her. She grappled for her stubbornness but couldn’t find it. “Am I one of your mistakes?” Her whispered insecurity made his eyes widen and stopped her own heart. Jonah’s finger yanked away.

  “What do you think?” He muttered and spun on his heel then paused and narrowed his eyes in her direction. “And I’ll take care of Remmy. She’s my horse.”

  CJ sank against the corral. Remmy nuzzled her leg. Sure. Kip had hightailed it out of there. She should have, too. Maybe she should still. Jonah Sparks was working hard to beat down her defenses, ruin her work, and tarnish her credibility with the men. Worst of all, he was making her breathless and causing her heart to pause. That was not something CJ ever wanted to be guilty of. Swooning over a man like a namby-pamby female? Never.

  She dared another gaze at the man’s broad back as he strode away.

  Never.

  Chapter 4

  Jonah rubbed his eyes and rested his elbows on the desk. The accounting in his ledgers was encouraging. The ranch was doing well. His uncle had built a good reputation for well-broken, sturdy horses, and Jonah was proud he was able to continue that legacy. Especially here. In the harsh New Mexican territory where ranching was tricky and it took a solid soul to survive. There were times he missed the rich, mossy green of England, the fog and moist air, and the gentility of the circles in which he’d once run. But New Mexico was in his blood ever since his mother sent him to his uncle’s ranch to straighten up her rebellious son. Well, his mother’s prayers were answered that year. But it wasn’t his uncle who set him on the straight and narrow; it was Charlie, the foreman. Jonah stole a glance at his well-worn Bible. His conscience stung as CJ’s image fluttered through his mind. Maybe he wasn’t acting in the proper fashion of a God-fearing man, but surely Celia Jo Matheson wasn’t acting in the proper fashion of a God-fearing woman.

  “Well, how-do! Got any Arbuckles? I’d shore like to get roostered up on some coffee.”

  Jonah started at the old but familiar voice. He shot to his feet and couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face.

  “Charlie! Speak of the devil!” Jonah grazed the old man with a fond eye. He’d aged. Tremendously. The Charlie Jonah recalled from eighteen years before was tall, strong, weathered, and gray. Now, the old cowboy was stoop-shouldered, his hands tremored with age, and his weathered skin was lined with deep wrinkles. His hair was white, smashed beneath a cowboy hat.

  “You’ve grown out of yer knickers, ain’t ya, boy?” Charlie limped into Jonah’s study, his knobby cane stamping the wood floor.

  Jonah embraced him and slapped his back. “You’re not a year older.”

  Charlie’s cackle was mixed with congestion, and he covered his mouth to finish his cough. “Shore didn’t mean to kick up a row, showin’ up without tellin’ ya.”

  That was the least of his worries. Jonah pulled up a chair for Charlie and helped the older man sit. “How did you find your way here to the ranch?” It would have been a long trip across the territory for the cowboy. Jonah wondered if that was what had taken its toll or if it was more.

  Charlie ran his finger under his nose and sniffed. “Well, after CJ left a few months ago, the man who took over the ranch ain’t had no need for an old man like me. Guess I reckon he’s right. My letter didn’t get here afore me, eh?”

  “No. No letter, but I’m glad you came.” Jonah was more than glad. He was ecstatic. His mind jumped to this evening after dinner, sitting on the porch watching the sun set over the hills, the cactus and sage brush silhouetted in the dusk. Maybe they could discuss theology, or ranching, or even—

  “Where’s my girl?”

  Jonah’s scowl reapplied itself between his eyes at Charlie’s enthusiastic inquiry. He could feel the furrow in his brow. CJ. Of course. Not only was he going to have to share Charlie with her, but he’d have to answer for making her life complicated.

  The aged cowboy’s eyes were sharp. Jonah squeezed his temples. What did he say?

  “She’s a spitfire, ain’t she?”

  “What were you thinking, Charlie?” Jonah had to ask.

  Charlie cocked his head. “Thinkin’? I was thinkin’ ya needed a foreman and she’s the best around. That’s what I was thinkin’.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and caused her problems.”

  Jonah made a pretense of returning to his desk and closing his ledgers. “She’s—not what I expected when you recommended her.”

  “Course not. She’s better. If’n you’re lettin’ her do her job.”

  “Certainly,” Jonah fibbed. Oh no. He was digging an even deeper hole.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “How long can you stay?” A swift change of subject was in order. Jonah ignored the narrowing of Charlie’s eyes.

  “Long as you’ll have me, I reckon. I’m not movin’ fast these days, but this place was callin’ to me. Like home.” Charlie’s fingers palmed the top of his cane. Jonah noted the swollen knuckles and age spots. So there it was. Veiled between Charlie’s words but speaking volumes through his expression. Charlie had come home to die. The truth stung, but Jonah read it for what it was.

  “How long?”

  “To live?” Charlie shrugged. “Reckon as long as any man my age with a bad heart.”

  Jonah stifled a sigh. He could only imagine how that news would come to CJ. “Well, you’re home now.” He offered Charlie a reassuring smile. “I’ll have Bonita prepare a room for you, and we’ll see to that coffee.”

  He stood and prepared to pass Charlie and retrieve Bonita. Charlie’s hand on his forearm stopped him. Jonah looked down at the open, frank gaze.

  “CJ needs you, Jonah. Her brothers—they don’t understand her like I do. Like you will. And, I couldn’t see her runnin’ off to somewhere not safe.”

  Jonah nodded. “I understand. But, Charlie, I have a successful ranch to manage. I cannot offer up charity to a woman posing in a man’s role.”

  Charlie dropped his hand and his lips pursed. “She ain’t posin’. She’s as good as they come. I figgered you’d show her a bit of grace, seein’ as ya weren’t exactly sound on the goose when ya came here.”

&nbs
p; Jonah tamped down his frustration. “I may not have been reliable, but I was strong. I showed leadership. I had a mind and I learned quickly. This is why my uncle left the ranch to me.”

  “And CJ don’t have the same skills as you? She’s got more smarts about horses and ranchin’ in her pinkie finger than you do in yer whole body. She grew up on a horse’s back. You grew up with a pile of books. Book smarts don’t mean work smarts.”

  Jonah heaved a breath and swallowed it. “We can revisit this another time. Let me find Bonita.” He edged away from his childhood mentor, from the man who knew the rowdy boy he’d once been. From the man who had believed in that boy. From the man who now believed in CJ.

  She caught a whiff of peppermint on the dusty breeze and she knew. She spun on her heel from where she was cleaning her saddle by the barn.

  “Charlie!”

  CJ broke into a run and in moments was encased in the strong arms of the man who understood her heart. Charlie held her for a long, silent moment until she drew back.

  “You’re here! How? When? Is something wrong? Are you all right?”

  “That’s a string of questions, little lady.”

  Her joy was mixed with relief and topped with an emotion she couldn’t pinpoint. No. She could pinpoint it. Her homesickness was finally assuaged. The Desert Pony Ranch hadn’t been an overly friendly place to plant her boots. Outside of Kip, it was challenge after challenge and a very obvious attempt to watch her fail. CJ missed her brothers, even her hard father, and especially Charlie. Now, he was here. Tears burned her eyes, but she never cried, so now was no reason to begin. Still… CJ allowed herself to soak in Charlie’s features. His wrinkles, so deep from years in the sun, both on this ranch and her father’s. His blue eyes, faded but still twinkling. Wispy white hair beneath his well-worn cowboy hat.

  “Now, hey there.” Charlie swiped a renegade tear off CJ’s cheek. It had escaped, in spite of her attempts to hide the emotion she didn’t completely comprehend.

  “I missed you.” CJ blinked a few times, sniffed, and leaned against the porch rail in an attempt to look casual.

  Charlie eased onto a rocking chair, the rusty-colored stucco of the main house almost red against the foreground of his blue checkered shirt. “Missed you too, darlin’.”

  “Are you all right?” CJ tried to read Charlie’s face, but it was expressionless.

  “Dandy.”

  “Mm-hmm.” CJ wasn’t crazy. She could tell he was tired.

  His eyes narrowed. “Ya’ll right?”

  Where did she begin? CJ glanced around her. She noted the tumbleweed that bounced against the horse barn, the cactus in the distance, patchy grass, and two of the hands working the horses. “I’m—managing.”

  Silence was broken by the whinny of a horse.

  “Jonah was reared to be all straitlaced, ya know.”

  Charlie’s observation didn’t relieve her. She toyed with the end of her braid that hung over her shoulder. “Straitlaced isn’t the half of it. He’s commandeering, arrogant, and he has no respect for me.”

  Charlie shrugged and stared beyond her at the horses. “Ain’t no surprise he’s a bit afeared. He wharn’t expectin’ ya.”

  CJ frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve proven myself. And he—he doesn’t know a stitch about ranching. Can’t read a fence, doesn’t understand the idea of not spooking the mustangs—why did you send me here? Why did you think he’d accept me? Trust my skills? Instead he inserts himself, ruins my credibility and—and…” She let her voice wane.

  Charlie was grinning. Long lines ran vertically on his cheeks, emphasizing his mirth.

  “You youngsters just ain’t got enough know-how between the two of ya to put it all together.”

  “I disagree. It’s more than apparent I’m not wanted, and Jonah is out to keep me from succeeding.”

  Charlie’s smile aggravated CJ. As if he’d known all along that she and Jonah would have more than difficulties. That they would be at odds.

  “Sometimes, things ain’t what they seem. Jonah was a rambunctious son of a gun. Always headstrong and determined he’d run anythin’ and everythin’. He’s smart. Like a rattler. And he’ll coil up an’ strike when he’s threatened. Then here you come. Knowin’ more about ranchin’ and horses and even carin’ for Remmy, an’ a woman to boot. Course he’ll feel threatened. But ya need to understand same as he. Ya both have yer own sets of what ya do good. Where he’s smart as a whip, you know how to wrassle a horse and even steer men right. Problem is, neither of ya wanna fess up and admit the other jus’ might be what the other ain’t. An’ that ya make a good team. Can’t all be foreman. Can’t all be the boss. Can’t all be the cook.”

  CJ mentally chewed on Charlie’s words, but all she could see was the smoldering eyes of Jonah Sparks and his assertive, take-charge attitude. One thing was still blazingly clear, and CJ was sure as shootin’ going to voice it. “No. But they sure all better be men.”

  Chapter 5

  There was nothing as pretty as a New Mexican sunrise. Brilliant, blazing orange traversed across the sand and patchy grasses. The cactus and yucca plants were black silhouettes against the deep purple hues of the distant canyon walls. Mornings like this were what she lived for. The anticipation of a roundup, the pounding of mustang hooves against the solid desert floor, the feel of the wind that blew her braid behind her back, and the intense power of the muscled horse under her. Exhilarating. It always had been. Only this time, instead of trailing behind her brothers and her father and the hands, she would lead. She was in charge. They had planned for this. Jonah had attempted to hog-tie her attempts and doubt the traps she’d guided the men into creating at the end of the canyon narrows, but it was going to happen. Today. This morning.

  CJ sprung into life, shutting the door of her adobe behind her and slapping her hat against her trouser-clad leg to pound out any dust that had collected overnight from her open windows. The ranch was oddly silent. She frowned as she made her way to the corral and stables. The men should be gathered there. Horses being saddled. Excitement brewing. They’d watched and plotted over this herd for some time. The stallion that led the fine group of mares was a beauty. Chestnut with a white flash down his broad forehead. Of course, they’d leave him alone with a few mares as his consolation prize, but it was the other females they would keep. The fillies and colts had already been born and would be rounded up with the mares. This was the beginning of their season. Time to bring them in, break them, get them ready to sell. A business deal that Jonah would orchestrate. Like he tried to orchestrate her.

  Where was everyone?

  Intuition began to curl around her excitement and squeeze so hard it threatened to quell it completely. It was as if—no. No, no, no.

  CJ narrowed her eyes at the empty corral. With the exception of her well-broke mustang and a couple of older mares, the main horses were gone. The men were gone. Free-range chickens picked at the dirt, and a black-feathered rooster puffed and hurdled in her direction. Offended and arrogant.

  “Jonah Sparks.” The words ground out between her teeth even as she placed a well-aimed kick with the toe of her boot and prodded the rooster out of her way.

  She covered the ground between the corral and the main house in a matter of seconds and almost broke her fist pounding on the door.

  “Señorita.” The concerned stare from Bonita met her as she opened the door. The waft of coffee that puffed through the entryway did nothing to calm CJ. Furious was too tame a word. Enraged didn’t even touch it.

  “Where is Jonah?” CJ tried not to spend any of her anger on unsuspecting and dear Bonita, but her struggle was obvious.

  The older woman pulled the door open wider. “He’s coming down for el desayuno. Charlie, too.”

  “Breakfast can wait.” CJ pushed past Bonita. “Is Jonah in his study?”

  Bonita swallowed. “Sí.”

  “Gracias, mi amiga.” CJ’s boots echoed on the wood floor as she made her way down
the hall. Normally, she would knock, but this morning wasn’t normal.

  Jonah jumped as his door banged against his wall. Heavens, if he wasn’t even more striking with damp, coffee-brown curls and his shirt unbuttoned at the neckline with no string tie. His left eyebrow rose, then his right, and then his chest heaved in a sigh he didn’t even bother to conceal.

  “A knock would be mannerly.”

  CJ had the grace to stifle an unladylike snort. “Allowing me to do my job would also be mannerly.”

  Jonah rose to his feet and rounded his desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest. He even had the audacity to extend his legs lazily and overlap them at the ankles. Not a care in the world. Of course not. Not when you owned the ranch.

  CJ summoned tenacity. This was one battle she had no intention of losing. “The men. They left.”

  “It appears so, yes.”

  “And who is in charge?”

  “I believe Kip took the lead on this.”

  CJ bit the inside of her cheek, released, bit her lip, let up, then ground out, “And you authorized that while I was still asleep?”

  “Precisely. Asleep.” Jonah’s words were abbreviated and emphasized with the British accent she had come to loathe. He continued. “When you’re going after some of the finest mustangs that will be the financial basis for my ranch this year, Roadrunner, I do not appreciate a foreman who is getting her sleep in order to look pretty the morning of.”

  “I was not—I’d given a specific time to start saddling up. I was there. They’d already left. Before it was even fully light.”

  “I was there when it was still dark.”

  His words cut with the sharp edge they were intended to.

  He was better than her.

  And he was going to prove it.

  Was it ironic or distasteful that he wanted to continue arguing just to watch CJ? The rosy flush had drifted up her neck into her cheeks. Her eyes snapped, dark as coal that should be glowing with the fury emanating from her body. Her body curved in places he wasn’t accustomed to witnessing, as proper women didn’t cavort in trousers with their work shirts tucked in at the waist. She was wrong. All wrong. Which was why he had risen before dawn to be sure he wrangled the men into a semblance of order. These were going to be his horses, his livelihood. She believed he was disconnected? She had no respect for him. She didn’t understand that Remmy was only the beginning of bringing the Appaloosa breed into the territory. Tough ponies, suited for New Mexico ranchers, a potential investment that could only magnify the financial success of the ranch and restore a beautiful horse from a dying population. And if he was that committed to knowing good horseflesh and good business potential, why wouldn’t he have a personal mission to know every facet and be involved in every nuance of the roundup that would support the ranch this year?