A Cowboy's Pride

by Karen Rock

  It was such a powerful feeling, as if they’d each had half a soul inside them that finally found its match.

  Their missing pieces.

  Her goose bumps got goose bumps.

  “Say anything,” he whispered a moment later against her temple.

  She slid her hand beneath his chin, turned his face to peer into his intense blue eyes and whispered the most important words she’d ever say in her life. Not anything. Everything. “I love you.”

  * * * * *

  If you loved this novel, don’t miss

  the other books in Karen Rock’s

  Rocky Mountain Cowboys series:

  Falling for a Cowboy

  Christmas at Cade Ranch

  A Cowboy to Keep

  Under an Adirondack Sky

  His Kind of Cowgirl

  Bad Boy Rancher

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  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Rancher’s Rescue by Cari Lynn Webb.

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  The Rancher's Rescue

  by Cari Lynn Webb

  CHAPTER ONE

  ETHAN BLACKWELL WAS surrounded by critically ill checking accounts.

  Of course, up until two days ago, the only terminal one he’d been working with had been his own. He’d never expected his grandfather’s finances to need resuscitation too.

  He might’ve suspected Elias, or Big E as he was commonly known, to be up to one of his usual attempts at manipulation if his grandfather were still in town. But Big E and his thirty-foot motor home had departed four weeks ago, in early April, without a farewell to anyone, or a return date mentioned.

  Ethan knew about departures. He had walked away to build his life, his own way, when Big E had accused Ethan of forsaking his family legacy and the land that had raised him to pursue a pretentious career in equestrian medicine. That day, Ethan had vowed to return to the Blackwell Ranch only for the reading of his grandfather’s will. Though no funeral arrangements had been made, as far as Ethan and the rest of his brothers were aware, Big E was AWOL, not deceased.

  Despite Ethan’s promise to himself, he was back at the Blackwell Ranch, pacing around his grandfather’s big office and scowling at the paperwork scattered across the oak desk. It was an accounting nightmare.

  Jonathon, his older brother and the only reason that Ethan had come home, strode into their grandfather’s office. Jon tossed his hat on one of the twin cigar-colored armchairs and dropped into the other. His dog, Trout, sat beside Jon’s boots and regarded Ethan as if he were the deputy assistant his brother had brought in for backup. “Please tell me I heard you wrong on the phone.”

  “That depends. What did you hear?” Ethan leaned against the desk.

  “I thought I heard you tell me that you planned to search Big E’s bedroom.” There was no question in Jon’s tone. His brother had better hearing than a bat. Jon’s gaze zeroed in on Ethan like a rifle scope, challenging him to change to his own mind.

  Jon had developed this stare-down technique in their elementary school days, when he’d caught Ethan and his twin brother, Ben, shooting army men to the moon with bottle rockets. Jon had drilled Ethan with his relentless stare and waited. Ethan guessed he’d made the wrong choice when he’d explained that they’d already relocated once after successfully hitting the barn several times. Jon had immediately confiscated their entire supply of explosives.

  “That’s exactly what I plan to do. With your help,” Ethan said. “The money’s gotta be somewhere.”

  Jon’s gaze fixed on Ethan. A frown fixed on his face. Trout stopped panting as if to better emphasize his own grimace.

  It wasn’t as if Ethan was asking his brother to hold the bottle rocket while he lit the fuse. Still, Ethan accepted that Jon always preferred explanations, and he picked up the worn notebook on Big E’s desk. “This is the sum total of Big E’s accounting system. So it seems likely he’d also stash hard cash between his mattresses, or in a hidden safe somewhere.”

  “We need to hire ranch hands, not tear apart the house like we’re on a treasure hunt.” Jon drummed his fingers on the armrest.

  “We need Big E to return, but since that’s not happening we have to find some money to pay people, including those ranch hands we need to hire.” Ethan smacked the notebook against his leg. He’d earned a doctorate in veterinary medicine, was board certified in animal sports medicine rehabilitation and passed the national veterinary exam. He was desperate to get hired in the veterinary field to pay off his own debt, not waste time rescuing the Blackwell Ranch for his heartless grandfather.

  He had come home to offer Jon relief from managing both the Blackwell Ranch and his own JB Bar Ranch. His older brother had never hesitated to help him in the past and Ethan owed him that same loyalty, even if his personal finances were about to flatline.

  “He has to have money.” Jon grabbed the notebook from Ethan.

  The panic in Jon’s voice focused Ethan. Ethan ignored his uneasiness and decided to take things one crisis at a time. With luck, he’d have the Blackwell Ranch stabilized with new staff before the end of the week.

  “That notebook reads like a grocery list of numbers.” Ethan moved toward the doorway, praying he was right about his grandfather’s stash of money. But the recent purchase receipts he’d found in the bottom desk drawer made that unease inside him feel more like claws scratching against his bones. Not to mention the slip of paper he’d spotted on which Zoe had written in bold cursive confusing lines: Pair of Llama Makers and Twin Sets of Long-Wool Providers. “A budget would be helpful, so we’d know how much is coming in and how much is going out on a regular basis.”

  He’d learned as much during his undergrad when his academic advisor had urged him to take a business class as an elective. Unfortunately, the professor hadn’t lectured about the pitfalls of cosigning a car loan for a good friend who turned out to be not so good, or two-timing roommates who left without a forwarding address and skipped out on paying their share of the rent and every bill. The professor had failed to explain how a very low credit score would later deter established veterinary offices from allowing highly credentialed and skilled graduates, like himself, to buy into their practices.

  That unease hooked into him like two bull elks with locked antlers. Ethan had more debt now than when he’d left years ago. He hated being like Big E. Hated more that he was proving his grandfather right. Becoming a veterinarian might’ve been the biggest mistake of his
life. Jon’s muttered curse yanked Ethan back into the ranch crisis.

  “I kept telling him to hire an accountant or a bookkeeper.” Jon flipped through the crinkled papers. “He told me he’d been handling money since before I was in diapers and he’d keep on handling it his way.”

  “Did I mention there’s a carbon receipt book mixed in with handwritten receipts on napkins in the top drawer of his desk? And don’t get me started on the checkbook. Checks are numbered in sequential order for a reason.” At least Ethan managed to get that right in his own, albeit empty, checkbook. He looked over his shoulder at his brother. “You coming to his room or not?”

  Twenty minutes later, Ethan held up Big E’s king-size mattress while Jon checked the box spring for a hidden pile of cash. His grandfather’s underwear drawer remained open and neither brother had bothered to rehang the three large framed cowboy photos they’d taken from the wall. The only holes in the plaster were from picture nails and not a safe. The door to the gun safe stood ajar, empty of both rifles and any spare cash.

  “If you’ve finished practicing your B&E skills, I could use a hand with some real work.” A feminine voice mocked them from the doorway.

  Ethan nodded at Katie Montgomery, the Blackwell Ranch’s right and left hands. Katie’s dad was getting up there in age and had basically left the foreman’s job to her. He suspected his grandfather wouldn’t have survived without Katie for all these years. Why did she stay when all of Big E’s grandchildren had left the ranch? How long would she stay once Ethan confirmed the accounts were empty? “As we’ve failed to find anything other than torn socks, it’s probably best you look into a new ranch to manage.”

  “There’s so much work to do here I don’t have time to look outside the fences.” Katie came into the bedroom and patted Ethan’s shoulder.

  “What’s it today? Broken fence on the north pasture? Blocked fuel line in the ATV? Ruptured water pipe at the guesthouse?” Jon asked, passing Katie on his way out.

  “It’s the south pasture, the battery on the ATV and a leaking faucet in the bathroom attached to the ranch hands’ bunk bed room.” Katie rushed down the stairs after Jon, the thump of her boots on the stairs as firm and sure as his brother’s, leaving Ethan no choice but to follow them.

  The stairs creaked loudly, or perhaps that was his own uncertainty.

  Katie glanced back at him. “Plus, Butterscotch needs your attention, Ethan.”

  “What was Big E thinking breeding her?” Ethan asked, entering the kitchen, where Katie already had her coffee refilled and a toasted bagel slathered with cream cheese. The new kitchen decor stopped Ethan in his tracks. It always did. Never mind the pink-feathered chandelier or bubble gum–colored paint, what he resented were the extravagant prices Zoe had paid for her superficial changes that had destroyed what used to be the heart of the house.

  “I know. It’s a bit scary. But you can blame Zoe for that one too.” Katie tipped her coffee mug at Ethan. “She arranged the whole thing as a surprise for Big E. Something about bringing new life to the ranch.”

  “You aren’t serious? She can’t be that...” Ethan failed to find a suitable word, probably because his mind was overwhelmed with calculating the cost of the custom-made pink-trimmed cabinets and hand-cut sparkly backsplash.

  “Insensitive?” Katie finished for him.

  “Don’t forget clueless about how a working ranch runs.” Jon swiped the bagel from Katie’s hand and took a large bite before she could claim it back.

  Katie was five years younger than Ethan and practically one of the family.

  “Butterscotch is twenty-three.” And a dependable, calm paint, Ethan thought, since the very first moment Big E had guided her off the trailer as a birthday present for Ethan’s mother. Butterscotch hadn’t spooked ever when one of Big E’s new wives had wanted to ride her, despite each spouse being less suited for ranch life than the last. The white-and-chestnut-colored mare had earned her peace, not a risky pregnancy.

  “Zoe wanted her mare and Butterscotch to birth at the same time because two foals in the pasture make for better pictures.” Katie frowned at the empty cream cheese container as if searching for something to explain Zoe’s reasoning. “For the guests.”

  If the older mare survived. If the foal survived. “Butterscotch needs to be under veterinary care.” Ethan stepped out of Katie’s way.

  “And she’ll have it now that you’re home.” Katie toasted Ethan with her second bagel.

  Ethan wasn’t home to stay though. He was as temporary on the ranch as his step-grandmothers. He was six days into the one-month visit he’d promised Jon. Surely that was long enough to straighten out the accounts, stabilize the ranch and, if Big E failed to return, sell the place. He’d pocket his share from the sale and move on with his life. “I’ll check on Butterscotch and then take a look at the faucet.” Because Jon had enough on his plate with his twin five-year-old girls and his own ranch to take care of. Never mind that Jon was also recently engaged to his former nanny, Lydia.

  “First guests arrive at the end of the month. The faucet in the bunk house can wait.” Katie pulled out her phone and swiped across the screen. “We need that fence fixed before I can release the cattle into the pasture.”

  “I have to be at Dr. Ross’s office for the twins’ appointments in an hour, but I can come back this afternoon and help with the fence.” Jon put his hat on and strode to the back door. Trout followed, the click of his nails on the hardwood floor in rhythm with the thump of Jon’s boots. “And I might have an extra ATV battery at my place.”

  Ethan appreciated the offer. “After I check on Butterscotch, I’ll head over to Brewster Ranch Supply. The heifers need vaccines and the mares could do with supplements.”

  “When you’re at Brewster’s, ask Grace if she’ll help with Big E’s books,” Jon said.

  “Why would I do that?” Ethan rubbed his neck to remove the edge from his tone.

  “Because you’ve been staring at the accounting stuff since you arrived.” Jon waved toward the office and the stairs. “Because we weren’t up in the bedroom looking for Christmas presents. And because we need a professional opinion on the financials.”

  “Grace and her family will also have leads on possible new ranch hand hires.” Katie tossed the cream cheese container in the trash and the knife in the sink. “They always hear before I do.”

  Ethan massaged his chest as if the knife had lodged there instead of clattering in the sink. Certainly, his heart hadn’t staled and stuttered at the mention of Grace Gardner. More like embarrassment kicked his pride, wedging regret between his ribs.

  Grace and Ethan had spent one night together, but she had sneaked out the next morning without a goodbye. Whether too many champagne bubbles had blurred the signals and he’d misread the entire evening, or Grace’s experience had been less than remarkable. Either way, he owed Grace an overdue apology. “But she can’t be the only accountant in town,” he insisted.

  “Grace is certified with a real degree and she’s quiet, so she won’t be talking all over Falcon Creek about Blackwell business.” Katie crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. “Don’t tell me you still aren’t over Sarah Ashley?”

  Ethan blinked. Sarah Ashley was Grace’s older sister and Ethan’s long-ago, on-and-off-again girlfriend. The snag in his voice had nothing to do with his ex and everything to do with her younger sister. How was he supposed to apologize to Grace for crossing the friend barrier and then ask her for help as if nothing had ever happened?

  “From what I’ve heard, Sarah Ashley married the man she rightly deserved.” Katie shrugged. “What? Mabel keeps me up-to-date.”

  Mabel being the postmaster and beacon of all gossip in Falcon Creek.

  “Well, some folks didn’t get home until all hours from that wedding reception, so things must have started off okay,” Jon said.

  His brother
was referring to Ethan not returning to Jon’s house until the next morning, long after Sarah Ashley’s reception. Ethan hadn’t confessed to his brother where he’d spent the night or with whom he’d spent it.

  Jon punched his brother’s shoulder as he was leaving. “Talk to Grace.”

  “Listen to your brother.” Katie let the back door slam shut behind her.

  Ethan flattened his palms over his face and speared his fingers into his hair. He’d attended Sarah Ashley’s Valentine’s Day wedding after he’d received a series of manic texts from the bride saying she was having doubts. He’d tried to ignore her, but what if she was the one for him? When he’d arrived at the church, after another flurry of anxious texts from Sarah Ashley, Grace had blocked him from seeing the bride and told him it was past time to let Sarah Ashley go. That her sister was well and truly in love. That the match was perfect. Suddenly, Ethan had begun to think there was something perfect about Grace.

  With one question, he interrupted Grace’s extensive list of reasons that Sarah Ashley and her fiancé were meant to be together: Did Sarah Ashley’s fiancé treat her well? Grace had blinked and answered: very well. And that had been enough. Ethan had sat in the back row for the ceremony. His gaze hadn’t lingered on the bride and what he’d lost, but rather, it strayed too many times to a certain maid of honor, making him wonder what he’d missed.

  It was only during the reception, when the champagne corks had popped, that Ethan approached Grace. And yes, maybe Grace had given a sweet, funny toast to her sister and new husband that won over the guests. And yes, maybe Grace had looked like a goddess in her sleek formal gown. And yes, he’d danced her into a dark corner and...

  The next thing he knew it was the following morning and he was on his own. He’d been trying to forget that moment ever since.

  * * *

  WITH HER BABY’S heartbeat echoing in her heart, a picture of her ultrasound resting in her pocket and her due date entered on her calendar, Grace Gardner drove toward her family’s store, Brewster Ranch Supply, determined to get through the workday without vomiting. She was equally determined this would be the week she called Ethan Blackwell to tell him about the baby. One phone call couldn’t be that hard, could it?