High Desert Cowboy
By
G.L. Snodgrass
Copyright 2019 G.L. Snodgrass
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Dedicated to
Jessica Smith
Other Books by G. L. Snodgrass
Regency Romance
The Reluctant Duke (Love’s Pride 1)
The Viscount's Bride (Love’s Pride 2)
The Earl's Regret (Love’s Pride 3)
Marrying the Marquess (Love’s Pride 4)
Confronting A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 1)
Charming A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 2)
Catching A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 3_
Challenging A Rake (A Rake’s Redemption 4)
Duke In Disguise (The Stafford Sisters 1)
The American Duke (The Stafford Sisters 2)
A Very British Lord (The Stafford Sisters 3)
Historical Western Romance
Lonesome Valley Bride
High Desert Cowboy
Sweetwater Ridge
Young Adult Romance
Certain Rules
Unwritten Rules
Unbreakable Rules
My Favorite Love (Lakeland Boys 1)
One Night (Lakeland Boys 2)
My Brother’s Best Friend (Lakeland Boys 3)
Worlds Apart (Lakeland Boys 4)
My Brother's Bodyguard (Hometown Heroes 1)
My Hidden Hero (Hometown Heroes 2)
My Best Friend’s Brother (Hometown Heroes 3)
Our Secret (The Benson Brothers 1)
Hidden Truth (the Benson Brothers 2)
Deception (The Benson Brothers 3)
High Desert Cowboy
Chapter One
Her family’s future might very well rest with the next few seconds, Rebecca Carson thought as she held her breath.
Then, there he was. She gasped as the big stallion was led out into the paddock. Royal Prince out of Beelzebub. Pure English thoroughbred. A direct decedent from one of King Charles’ royal mares. Coal-black with a small white star on his forehead.
His muscles rippled as he pranced sideways, enjoying the attention. Everything a horse should be. Tall, commanding, grace in motion.
And probably dumber than a rock, like most males, Rebecca thought with a laugh.
“He’s magnificent,” she said to her father’s best friend, Peter Sinclair. An older man with white hair, pudgy and sweet. The closest thing to family she had left here in Philadelphia.
“He should be for the money John spent on him,” he replied.
She took a deep breath. They had argued this point to death. “John knows what he’s doing,” she said with conviction.
He scoffed and shook his head. “And shipping him all the way out west. Idiocy.”
Again, Rebecca held her tongue. Worried about opening the true issue.
Of course, he had no such hesitation. “I still think it is foolish of you. Going out west also. Your father would never have approved. A horse is one thing. But a lady?” He shook his head then continued. “What that idiot Robert did was unforgivable. But that is no reason to leave your home. The people who know you best.”
“John is family,” she reminded him. Did her father’s friend really think she hadn’t thought it through? He had known her for her entire life, he should know she wasn’t the type of person to do something on a whim.
“It’s for the best,” she said while she continued to watch the stallion. “When a woman gets jilted at the altar, the last thing she wants is to see her friends. I can see it in their eyes everywhere I go. Poor Rebecca. Such a shame.”
She gritted her teeth. What she really saw was the questions in their eyes. What had she done to drive Robert Presley away? The up and coming star of Philadelphia society. Tall, handsome, respected. A future senator people thought. And she had let him slip between her fingers.
No one was willing to see the truth. With the death of her father. She no longer possessed the political connections that could help a young man’s career. At his core, that was all Robert had ever cared about. She had been such as fool.
“At least I learned what he was before we were married,” she said with an angry tone.
Peter glanced down at her and shook his head. “But the west? Really Rebecca. Seven days on the train to get to a godforsaken desert. Why not New York? Or Europe even?”
Her stomach turned over. Because there weren’t the funds, she wanted to tell him. But she refused to admit that her father had died with so much debt. Even her brother John didn’t know how bad it was. Out there in Nevada, he was out of touch. In fact, John’s adventures were turning out to be a lifeline. If he had known that there was no longer a family fortune to support him, he might not have spent so much on this horse.
No one must know that she was almost penniless, she thought with a shudder. It would be worse than having a church full of people sit there and watch her being abandoned.
“You’re a pretty woman,” Peter continued as if that would answer all of her problems. “I am sure you could find yourself a husband. Not all men are scoundrels.”
She scoffed and shook her head in disagreement. But this was a conversation she did not wish to have at the moment. Maybe if she didn’t answer he would let the matter drop.
“Or,” he said, refusing to take her hint. “Do you have some silly fantasy about marrying one of those western cowboys? I am told the books are filled with fanciful tales about them and their wildness.”
Rebecca gave out an un-ladylike snort. “Really Peter, can you see me marrying an illiterate cowboy? Do you really think I am that type of person?”
The man smiled and shook his head. “No, not you. In my eyes, you have always represented the best in refinement. That is why I can’t see you enjoying life out there.”
Rebecca nodded. “After I visit with John, I might move on to San Francisco. A place with book shops, and fine restaurants. I do believe they even have an opera house.”
“It won’t be Philadelphia,” he said with a shake of his head.
Exactly, she wanted to tell him. There was nothing more for her here. Nothing but pity and snickers behind her back. No, she needed to start over. And the best place imaginable would be with her brother. After all, wasn’t that what the west was for? New beginnings? A place where people didn’t know about embarrassing moments or a shameful past?
The stable boy continued to lead the horse around the paddock. Rebecca admired the way the horse moved. John had chosen well.
The stable boy’s eyes were big as he continually glanced over his shoulder to the high-strung stallion.
The boy is nervous, she realized. Why? She hadn’t really been involved in the purchase. Did the horse have a bad reputation? she wondered.
No sooner had the thought occurred to her when the horse sidestepped into a ladder leaning against the side of the barn. She gasped as she foresaw what was going t
o happen. As if on a balanced scale, the ladder started to slide with a nasty scraping sound. The horse snorted as he danced away.
Rebecca held her breath as she watched the ladder slip down the side of the barn and clip the horse on his rump.
It was as if someone had designed the perfect instrument to upset a high-strung stallion. Royal Prince screamed and reared up, his foreleg catching the stable boy and knocking him into the dirt.
Her stomach tightened with fear as she saw the sharp hooves slashing and tearing at the air, inches from the unconscious boy.
“Somebody do some…” she started to yell, then stopped herself as a tall cowboy jumped over the rails and started for the horse.
Hurry, she thought. The boy was inches from death, but the cowboy simply held out both arms and calmly walked towards the horse. Whispering all the way. Her heart lurched. The horse looked terrified and ready to fight any and all.
“Hush boy,” the cowboy said as he stepped between the horse and the fallen stable boy. “Hush,” he whispered.
The big stallion ignored his words, rising up on his hind legs, slashing his hooves at the man before him, inches from his face.
The cowboy didn’t flinch. Didn’t weave away. Instead, he stood there, calmly talking as if addressing a frightened puppy, not a thousand-pound animal wanting to pound him into the ground.
As the horse shifted, the cowboy moved, keeping himself between the horse and the boy on the ground. “Hush now,” he repeated as if he were whispering to a crying baby. But always, protecting the boy.
Rebecca held her breath as she watched in amazement. The cowboy looked tall and lean. With a battered hat, creased in the middle like they did. Worn jeans and rundown boots.
Royal Prince reared once more, his hooves slashing at the air.
“Hush,” he kept whispering, quieter each time, his wide arms never moving, never advancing towards the horse. Simply standing there, calmly commanding the horse to relax.
The stallion’s wild eyes slowly calmed as he snorted and pawed at the ground. But Rebecca could see it, the cowboy had won over the horse.
“That’s a boy,” he said as he gently took the lead rope and ran a hand down the horse’s neck to keep him calm. Still whispering to the horse, he led him away from the boy on the ground.
The young boy was coming to, as he shook his head and tried to understand why he was laying in the dirt. Several other stable hands rushed forward to help him. Each of them kept a sharp eye on the crazy beast in the corner of the paddock.
“Who is that?” she asked Peter, obviously referring to the cowboy.
He snorted. “That’s the illiterate cowboy your brother sent to bring the horse west. Calls himself Dusty Rhodes.”
Rebecca watched as the cowboy continued to talk to the horse. He scratched behind the animal's ears then glanced their way. Her stomach clenched up. She hadn’t expected him to look like that. Handsome with a touch of rough. The corner of his eyes crinkled as if he had stared at too many sunsets. His skin was tanned. There was something in his eyes. As if he had seen more than most people and wasn’t easily impressed.
Who was he? she wondered as a curiosity filled her. Deep down. What did he think? Feel? A dozen different thoughts raced through her mind, surprising her.
He’s a simple cowboy, she thought to herself. Don’t be ridiculous, he didn’t have deep thoughts.
As if reading her mind, his eyes locked with hers for a long second in a steady stare. Her insides turned over. A man of his status shouldn’t look at her that way. In fact, no man should. Yet, deep down, the female in her responded.
Peter broke the moment by waving the cowboy over.
Rebecca watched as he led the horse towards them. Like the Stallion, the cowboy moved with an easy grace. Wide shoulders with a confident gait. All male, she thought with a smile. And probably dumber than the horse he led.
“Mr. Sinclair,” the cowboy said with a slight dip of his head to Peter.
“Mr. Rhodes,” Peter replied. “This is my friend’s daughter and sister to the beast’s owner, Miss Rebecca Carson.”
Rebecca’s stomach tightened for some unknown reason as the man studied her for but a moment. Then, as if remembering his manners. He tipped his hat and said, “Ma’am.”
Nothing more. Just one word but it made her spine shiver.
“Thank you,” she managed to say. “That was very brave.”
His brow furrowed as if he were having difficulty understanding what she was talking about. Then realized it was about the horse and smiled slightly.
“He wasn’t mad, just scared,” the cowboy said with an air of authority as he ran a hand down the stallion’s neck and along his back.
“And you can tell the difference?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘can’t everybody?’
“What do you think of him?,” Rebecca asked, indicating the stallion.
Mr. Rhodes thought for a moment then shook his head. “I don’t know, Ma’am. He wasn’t raised in that country. It’s hard on horses.”
She frowned, surprised at his answer. Her brother was determined to improve his stock. Obviously, this animal would be a great improvement to the wild mustangs he currently used.
“Really, Sir,” Peter interjected. “This horse is the fastest in the county, maybe the state.”
Again, the cowboy shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe. But I don’t need a horse who is fast over a mile. I need one that can go thirty miles on a hatful of water and a clump of bush weeds. One who can take on an ornery bull and cut him out of the herd like you’d cut out a piece of pie. I need one that can smell a grizzly at two miles and a water hole at three.”
Rebecca bit back the anger rising inside of her. “Does my brother know that you think he is making a mistake?”
The cowboy nodded. “I told him he was wasting his money. But, no one could talk him out of it. It’s different out there. And your brother hasn’t been there long enough to realize just how different.”
An awkward silence fell over the trio. Rebecca wondered if he was right. Was John wasting money? Money that could use for so many other things or at least a safety net.
“Rebecca will be going with you,” Peter said breaking the awkwardness. “She is determined to go live with her brother in that deserted wilderness.”
Rebecca shot her father’s friend a quick scowl but chose not to challenge him at the moment. There were more important issues to deal with.
Again, the cowboy’s brow furrowed, obviously, he wasn’t overjoyed with the idea of her overseeing him. A small disappointment that threatened to become anger rose inside of her. Most men would have been thrilled at the thought of spending time with her.
“I promise not to interfere too much,” she told him. “But this horse is very important to my brother.”
The cowboy’s brow furrowed for a long moment.
“I don’t reckon you can interfere at all,” the cowboy said as he shrugged his shoulders.” I’ve got a bill of sale and a letter from John Carson saying as how I am responsible for getting this horse to the C-Bar ranch just outside of Reno, Nevada.”
Rebecca’s spine stiffened but the cowboy continued.
“It’s the job I was hired for. It’s the job I will do.”
He had just informed her that she had no authority over him or the horse, she realized. Her anger continued to grow. How dare he.
“Mr. Rhodes,” she said through tight teeth. “I assure you, my brother will be very disappointed if he finds you have been difficult.”
The cowboy laughed. “Ma’am, I’ve been difficult my whole life. Don’t know no other way.”
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm. Getting into a yelling match would accomplish nothing.
“Regardless,” she said, “I will be leaving this coming Monday. Please have the horse ready.”
Again, the cowboy laughed, and shook his head. “Ma’am, me and the horse are leaving in the mo
rning. If you decide to ride the same train, I can’t rightly stop you. That’s between you and the railroad. But me and this here horse will be on the ten oh eight.”
The two of them stared at each other, a battle of wills. Rebecca’s stomach tightened into a ball as she slowly realized she had no power over him. As he had stated, he was legally responsible for the horse.
The thought only made her anger grow.
In addition, deep down inside, she realized that he was neither impressed by her status or her beauty. To him, she was nothing more than a hindrance. Her pride took a hit, much like it had with Robert.
What was it about her that made men she found attractive and interesting dismiss her so easily? Was it some failure on her part? And why did it bother her so much that this man, in particular, showed no signs of caring about her opinion or needs?
It was as if he had dismissed her before even getting to know her. One look and he had classified her as unimportant.
Grinding her teeth, she turned away and left him there. Insufferable, she thought. That was what he was. He and every man like him. Know-it-alls who refused to listen to her.
Lifting her hem out of the dirt, she hurried to the coach. If she was leaving in the morning, there was much to accomplish.
Chapter Two
Dusty smiled at the morning mist creeping through the green paddocks and red barns. Not a sight you saw much in the desert. He had forgotten how wet air could be at times.
His thoughts drifted back to the dry desert and high mountains he’d left only weeks before. It was time to go home.
The train station two blocks over was coming to life. Yard workers, the loud swish of the locomotive as it built up steam. Passengers arriving. His gut tightened up. It was going to be a long trip. And if that Carson woman made the journey. It would be particularly problemsome.
Sighing. He turned towards the barn. Best not to think on her. High toned women were a bother, best just to ignore them. But something deep inside of him let him know that it might not be possible.
Something about that honey-colored hair, her tight waist that flared to fine hips. All woman, he thought. With a face made by an expert. Beautiful, pure.
High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2) Page 1
