Espino, Stacey - Hogtying the Cowgirl [Ride 'em Hard 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Stacey Espino

  This wasn’t over. She wouldn’t lose this horse.

  Chapter Two

  Clay settled his accounts with the registrar and went out back to prepare his trailer for the two new horses he’d acquired. A good riding gelding, and a stallion he had no business buying. It was an unprofessional buy on his part, but he’d been lured by the majesty of the beast, a symbol of nature’s power and beauty wrapped up into one. He should have stopped at three grand, but the little minx next to him kept outgunning him, spurring him to bid higher.

  He’d seen the malice in those ocean-blue eyes, an untamed nature similar to the horse he was bidding on. Her honey-blonde hair was kept natural, falling heavily down her back. No need for makeup. He’d like to ride her as much as the stallion, but she was too young, too innocent for the likes of him.

  Clay didn’t have time for women any more than he had for quiet reflection. Now he’d have to spend the extra time to green break the wild beast when his schedule was already taking over his life. Maybe it would do him good to take an hour or two off each day to spend with the horse, getting back to his roots, and skipping the office drama. He felt a flutter of excitement in his gut. Ever since his feed business had taken off, making him wealthy and in demand, he hadn’t been able to enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

  After collecting the horses and loading them securely in his trailer, a familiar voice shattered the comforting silence. “Mr. Roberts, can I please have a word with you?”

  “Angel Garner, I presume.” He turned around, and there she stood, her hands proudly perched on each rounded hip. The girl was too fit and curvy to be holy. “I thought I made it clear I wasn’t interested in your services.”

  “What is it that you want, then? Every man wants something.” She peered to the side, trying to see the horses behind him. “You bought two? What’s so special about the stallion that you can’t sell him back to me?”

  “Same reason he’s special to you, I suppose.” He bent low and hoisted up the tailgate, sliding and locking the chains into place. Her face seemed to pale as the lock clicked shut. “Now, why don’t you head back in before the auctions end and bid on another animal? There are plenty of fine specimens still available.”

  “I don’t want another horse. I want that one.”

  This filly was used to getting her own way. Spoiled little cowgirl if he ever saw one. They seemed a common occurrence in a town where sons outweighed daughters three to one. But he had no plans on humoring Ms. Garner. She could just go and find another horse because the black stallion was now the property of Clayton Roberts, Inc.

  “Darlin’, the foundation of most cowboys’ lives is disappointment. It either destroys them or pushes them to be better men. I expect it’s the same for a cowgirl. If you’ve escaped this long without experiencing it, call this a favor.”

  Her full, pretty lips morphed into a tight line, her eyes narrowing into a vicious scowl, arms crossed stubbornly under her breasts. “You’re a dirty, rotten horse thief!”

  As much as he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and dump her in the nearest rain barrel, he kept his cool and boarded his truck. The air was increasing in humidity. The storm he’d seen coming would be here soon. His new ranch was just on the outskirts of town, and he wanted to settle the horses in their new barn before lightning struck and spooked them. He hadn’t had enough time to check the condition of all the perimeter fencing since moving into the old century home. Although the place needed a lot of TLC, it was close to town, where his new distribution center was being established. Little did the local farmers realize how much he’d be helping their economy by choosing their town over another as his center of operations.

  He dropped the ramp of the trailer with an echoing boom when he’d arrived home. After securing his new riding horse, he eased his prize out, slow and steady. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Welcome to your new home.”

  As he led the stallion to the barn, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. That cute cowgirl had been desperate to buy the horse off him. But Clay didn’t get where he was in life by being weak and easy to walk over. When he wanted something, he worked hard and got it. Ms. Garner would have to learn that not everything came served on a silver platter. And, as he’d told her, disappointment was a natural part of life.

  The distant rumble from the sky sent a chill up his spine. He settled the horse, closed the bay doors to the barn, and headed to the house. In the span of a few minutes the air went from warm and stale to gusty and cool. He’d start up a fire to stave off the chill and keep the living room in light in case the power failed.

  The wall was lined with cardboard boxes. There was still so much to do since moving in the old house—unpacking, cleaning, and countless renovations. Then he had to sort things out at the office and warehouse in town, get to know the new employees, farmers, and distributors. He didn’t have time to stop and think, and the chaos had him feeling out of control.

  He arranged some of the logs in the fireplace and set the kindling ablaze. The scent and sound of the soon crackling fire instantly soothed him, pulled him out of his reality, and forced him to revel in the days of his youth. It always amazed him how a scent could take him back in time, spark memories of people and places long past. During his youth, he only had the worry of hard work, sweating and straining under the sun. Now he had to delegate, strategize, and had numerous people relying on him for their livelihood. He craved a release from the stress, but his kind of escape would have to wait.

  The young cowgirl had unwittingly started an avalanche of need within him. She unleashed his dormant dominant side with her sass and forked tongue. Just like the stallion, she’d be a challenge to break. He’d enjoy every step of her submission, savor the day she begged him to make her come. But it wasn’t meant to be. He had to uphold a solid reputation and leave his unsavory sexual appetite at the borderline of this small town.

  Clay kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. As he crashed down in his worn leather recliner by the fire, he stared at the dancing flames. The house was too big. Too quiet. His sister kept telling him it was time to think about settling down with a good woman. He was thirty-two and not getting any younger. It made sense, but a happily ever after rarely fell in any man’s lap. He had no time to nurture a relationship and had never met a woman he’d choose to spend the rest of his life with. Forever was a long time, and when he committed to anything, he never walked away.

  * * * *

  Angel dreaded returning to the house. Hours had passed, and there was no way her brothers wouldn’t notice the trailer missing. She pulled into the yard, carefully backing up to leave the trailer in the same place she’d left it. If she was lucky, they were so busy with the branding they hadn’t even realized she’d left.

  A light peppering of rain blew in with the increasing wind. It wouldn’t be long now until the clouds let loose and drenched the land, trapping her indoors. She hated being cramped behind four walls, not able to leave or breathe. Angel liked to work with her hands, feel the sun warming her face, and see the barley fields all the way to the horizon.

  She slipped in through the side screen door, hoping not to be noticed.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Angel’s heart began to pound more frantically. Matthew stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “What?”

  “Didn’t we tell you you’re not allowed to take the trailer?”

  “You’re not my daddy, Matthew. Get off my case.” She attempted to walk past him, using her usual false bravado to keep from getting in trouble.

  He chuckled—a dark, unpleasant sound that gave her the chills. “If I remember correctly, our daddy was the one to make the rule. How many trucks have you scrapped in the last couple years?”

  He barred her escape. She tried to duck under his arm, but he only secured her by the shoulders and held her in place. Why did her brothers have to be so damn strong? When they were used to fighting each other or the
Carsons’ on the next ranch over, she had no hope of overpowering Matthew. “Let me go!”

  “Chase isn’t here to rescue you, Angel. You can’t just do whatever the fuck you like and get away with it.”

  “I asked you and Grant to drive me into town, but you wouldn’t. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “For the love of God, you can’t always have your way, girl. We’ve been breaking our balls branding all day. We can’t just take a break to chauffeur you around whenever you holler.”

  She growled, angry that he was being so difficult. The truck was back in one piece. All she wanted to do was run up to her room and feel sorry for herself. She’d just lost the one thing she desired in life and wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. That infuriating Roberts man had stolen her horse. “Well maybe I should just leave. Obviously I’m an unwanted part of this family.” She pouted, hoping to appeal to his emotions. No matter how angry he was, she was still his little sister.

  “Angel…” He twisted her around, tucked her head under his shoulder, and ran his knuckles over her hair like he did when she was younger. “You best behave, or I’ll have to tell dad. Now run off and get cleaned up for supper.” She smiled to herself as she jogged up to the second level. If only Clay Roberts was as easy to mislead.

  She closed her door and crashed on her bed. There had to be a way to get the stallion back. If she couldn’t, the years of saving and working all those shitty jobs was for nothing. Her friends were few and far between. With such overprotective brothers her social life suffered, and a boyfriend was a luxury she’d never known. Why would she want another man in her life when she couldn’t escape them as it was? All her neighbors were cowboys. Half the time she felt like one of the guys herself, so hooking up with one of the men she’d grown up with would just feel wrong. Besides, there wasn’t a man alive she’d ever feel safe enough with to love.

  There was a knock on her door. “What?”

  She turned as Grant entered her room. He flopped down on the bed beside her, bunching up one of her pillows under his head. “You talked with Matthew?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “You deserved it.” He could have gone on and on but stopped. He closed his eyes, his breathing heavy. Her brothers were always exhausted during a branding. The long hours and strenuous labor took its toll on a man. She understood the value of hard work.

  She stroked his hair and massaged his shoulders. The Lord knew she loved her family and those close to her. She’d do anything for them. She had, and she would again. But she wasn’t one to wear her emotion on her sleeve. The men she knew said she should have been born a man, and some days she agreed. Working with horse shit and engine grease didn’t make her feel very feminine. She was glad of it. The only thing good about being a woman was the ability to use her body as a sexual weapon. It was a small consolation for being the physically weaker sex.

  Angel devised a spur of the moment plan. “Grant, have you seen Landon lately?” She’d been close to Landon growing up because he was an only child and spent most of his free time visiting her brothers. In fact, all the cowboys in the region were like extended family.

  “He’s helping the Carsons with their branding.”

  Landon’s parent’s owned the small, local feel shop in town, so he often took jobs as a hired hand, and helped friends for free. She said nothing more to her brother, not wanting to rouse his suspicions. He didn’t question her, already close to falling asleep.

  She combed her hand through his hair until she was certain he wouldn’t wake up, and then she slipped from the mattress. After draping a light sheet over his body, she snuck out of the room and went downstairs for dinner.

  Chapter Three

  The Carson ranch came into view around the bend in the road. She hadn’t been back to their place since they moved their woman in. Apparently she’d been shunned because she’d told Samantha to back off. Angel had only been looking out for the Carson brothers, not realizing what they had with the woman was real love—however unorthodox. They couldn’t hate her forever, could they? Today she was only interested in finding Landon, not reliving old dramas.

  The rain storm had passed as quickly as it rolled into their town. The morning sky was a robin’s-egg blue, and the land still glistened with the memory of rain. Wyatt was the first cowboy she saw, cutting across the yard toward the barn. As soon as their eyes met, she cursed. It was time to face the music.

  He approached her when she hopped down from the driver’s seat. “If you’re here to make trouble, I suggest you get your little ass back in the truck and head out.” Wyatt was all business, always had been. She’d be a fool to fuck with him.

  “I’m just looking for Landon.” She adjusted her Stetson. “I’ve already apologized for the whole Samantha incident. Besides, you have her back. How long can you hold a grudge?”

  He had a coil of rope in his hand, which he flung over his shoulder before charging forward. Wyatt pinned her to the side of her truck, his eyes as lethal as a cobra’s. “If you fuck with my wife, I’ll make you pay, whether your brothers know or not.”

  She shrugged him away. “Relax. I thought she was using you. I was trying to help, not make trouble. Can we just leave the past in the past?”

  He pointed to the large barn. “He’s mucking out. Make it quick.”

  She didn’t waste any time in dashing to the barn. Angel called back over her shoulder, “I’ll make it up to the four of you. I promise.”

  The Carson farm was almost as familiar as her own. It hurt that the brothers she’d grown up with now saw her as a home wrecker. She’d only been looking out for them and still wasn’t one hundred percent sure their wife was with them for the right reasons. It was her nature to be suspicious. Trust had to be earned.

  The interior of the barn was dim, the hay dust thick. She heard the scrape of a shovel on the concrete floor in one of the far stalls. “Landon?”

  His dirty-blond head peeked over the top of a stall. With his height, he had no problem spotting her as she approached despite the six-foot-high partitions. “What are you doing here?”

  “No, what are you doing mucking out for the Carsons? They shouldn’t be giving you the shitty work when you offer to help out.”

  He shook his head, using the back of his forearm to wipe his brow. “It’s paid work.” He leaned the shovel against the wooden stall boards and used one curled finger to signal her closer. She stepped into his personal space as requested, and they shared a platonic kiss. “They know you’re here?”

  She dismissed his question. “What do you mean paid work? Why?”

  “Angel, my parents are going through a rough time. The feed store is suffering now that one of the big boys has moved into town. They can’t compete with a giant.”

  “I didn’t even know. I still go by every week to get my supplies. They never said anything to me.” Landon’s parents were like family. His mother often invited her over for dinner, saying she missed not having a daughter of her own.

  “They’re proud. You know how they are. God willing, things will settle out, but for now I need cold hard cash.”

  She felt bad for the Wilders and wished there was something she could do to help. Angel would hand over her fifty-five hundred in a heartbeat, even if it meant never getting her stallion, but she knew Landon would never take it. He was a proud cowboy, born and raised on the prairies, like her. “You should have called me.”

  “For what? I’m just doing what needs to be done, is all. Now, why’d you come down here? Ain’t you still on unfriendly terms with the Carsons?”

  “Not for too much longer, I hope. I came to find you, but I feel bad asking anything of you now.” She’d tell her mother and Aunt Wendy about his parents tonight. They’d stir up some action in the community to help out the older couple.

  He reached for his white T-shirt hanging over the stall divider. He mopped his slick chest and shoulders. “Angel, you’re pissing me off with the pity talk. Now what are you here for?
”

  She took a breath. “I went to the auction yesterday morning to bid on that stallion I had my eye on. But some new money outbid me.” Angel reached out and touched his arm, not expecting it to feel as hard as iron. “Landon, I have to have that horse.”

  “If you were outbid, what do you suggest I do?”

  “My brothers have a lot of weight in the community. If one of them went to reason with him, he may just see the logic in selling the horse back to me.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Well, I can’t very well ask one of my brothers to do it. They’re already furious I took the trailer. There’s no way in hell they’ll help me.” She bit her lower lip. “That’s where you come in.”

  “I don’t think I’m gonna like this.”

  “Please, please, please. He’s new. He won’t know you from one of my dumb brothers. Come on, do me this favor and I’ll muck out the rest of the barn, no charge.”

  He was quiet for a while. When he finally smirked, she knew he was on board. “You best get to shoveling.”

  * * * *

  Clay attached a training lead to the stallion and led him to the ring next to his new barn. He should be learning the lay of the land and unpacking, but all he could think about, besides the little spitfire from yesterday, was the horse awaiting his instruction.

  He spent hours with the horse, using a combination of treats, praise, and skilled discipline. By the time he heard a pickup truck rumble up his private drive, he’d worked up a sweat, and the deep blue sky was now lit by the full strength of the sun. Time flew by when he enjoyed what he was doing.

  The truck doors slammed, one after the other. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and his personal address wasn’t listed at the distribution center. Then he saw the gleam of the sun on that familiar blonde hair. There weren’t too many women with hair that blonde, a mix of honey and gold. He chuckled to himself, interested to see what offer she had for him today. Maybe he should ask the little brat to muck out his barn. That should turn her off in a heartbeat.