TALL DARK STRANGER
BOOK 1: CAJUN COWBOYS
Patricia Watters
WELCOME TO THE BROUSSARD RANCH
ANNE AND JOE'S STORY: Six months after his fiancée's declared missing and presumed drowned, Joe Broussard's stunned to find her 150 miles from home with no memory of him. Anne has no reason to believe the man claiming to be her fiancé is not telling the truth because she gave birth to a son and has no idea who the father is, which has haunted her from the moment she found herself in a homeless shelter with no memory of who she was or how she got there. But when she returns to once-familiar surroundings and fragments of memory begin to surface, unexpected passion blooms… until Anne's parents intervene with a court order to become the baby's legal guardians. Can Joe pull Anne from the grip of her rich and powerful family, or will they destroy their relationship and fuel a multi-generational feud?
CAJUN COWBOYS SERIES
VIDEO BOOK TRAILER
Book 1: Tall Dark Stranger
Book 2: The Final Turn
Book 3: Flight of Fancy (mid 2020)
Book 4: Blind Chance (late 2020)
Book 5: Trouble Ahead (early 2021)
Book 6: Dangerous Stakes (mid 2021)
DANCING MOON RANCH SERIES
SERIES BOOK TRAILER
Prequel: Justified Deception
Book 1: Righteous Lies
Book 2: Pandora's Box
Book 3: False Pretenses
Book 4: Uncertain Loyalties
Book 5: Becoming Jesse's Father
Book 6: Bittersweet Return
Book 7: Cross Purposes
Book 8: Dancing With Danger
Book 9: Bucking the Odds
Book 10: Forbidden Spirits
Book 11: Imperfect Magic
Book 12: Finding Justice
TALL DARK STRANGER
Copyright 2020 by Patricia Watters
Title of Work: Tall Dark Stranger / by Patricia Watters
Domiciled in: United States of America
Nation of 1st Publication: United States of America
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or were used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part, by any means, including but not limited to digital, xerography, audio recording, scanning into any information processing, storage or retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by electronic or mechanical or other means, not known or hereafter invented. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law.
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
EPILOGUE
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LEVEL OF SENSUALITY: If you're looking for steamy romances you'll find instead sexy stories in a non-graphic way. My goal is to create romances that feature courageous, self-assured heroes with endearing flaws and the gutsy women who capture their hearts, women, these unsuspecting cowboys would lay down their lives for.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this story cultural and spiritual issues are involved. However, my goal is not to convert anyone to anything, but to convince readers that Joe and Anne belong together.
CHAPTER 1
Touch has memory –John Keats
Broussard Ranch – Vermilion Parish, Louisiana
Joe Broussard closed the stock gate behind the last of the cattle he and his brothers had driven to the ranch from the marshland where the herd had been in danger of being stranded by floodwaters. Bending into the driving rain, he headed for his house, sick with worry that something could have happened to his fiancée and her co-worker, who were returning from New Orleans where they'd been involved in a conference manning a booth for the Department of Natural Resources. His last phone contact with Anne had been over an hour before, and already floodwaters from heavy thunderstorms had inundated dozens of homes north of where the women were travelling, and many roads were underwater.
Rushing up the bank of steps to the covered porch of his house, he swept open the front door and turned on the TV, anxious for the latest report. While he watched and listened, Ace, one of his younger brothers, dashed in and said, "What's happening now?"
His eyes on the screen, Joe replied, "They're opening more bays in the Morganza spillway, which means floodwaters headin' straight for the Atchafalaya Swamp and Morgan City where the women could be driving to avoid the flooded roads north. The Corps of Engineers just issued state-of-emergency alerts for all parishes in that area."
Increasingly anxious to get ahold of Anne and tell her to turn back if they hadn't already, Joe punched her cell number again and got no response, while in the background the voice of the commentator on TV kept up a streaming dialog, saying, "The National Guard's providing high water vehicles to assist in search and rescue, and the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries is providing shallow water boats to the area to help first responders."
Joe paced the floor, stopping to glance out the window, the scene beyond barely discernible through the rain. What was almost as troubling as the thought of Anne in the middle of the deluge was their heated argument that spun out of control just before she left for New Orleans...
His mindset a combination anger, agitation, and frustration, he'd said in a loud angry voice, "You're five months pregnant with our son, we have a marriage license that's about to expire, and you keep draggin' your feet about tyin' the knot. Or maybe you just can't make yourself take a dive down the social ladder and marry a Cajun!"
"You always have to throw in the social angle," Anne fired back.
Joe let out a cynical snort. "Let's face it, darlin'. There's a social divide as wide as the Mississippi between our families that's not gonna change."
"Not as long as you have that attitude, but people can change."
Joe let out an ironic grunt. "People on which side of the divide? The coonasses or the—"
"Stop right there!" Anne cut him off short.
The argument came to an abrupt halt when Anne's co-worker arrived to pick her up for their trip to New Orleans. Anne grabbed her packed bags, swept open the door to her apartment and left, while Joe stormed off in his truck. He returned to the ranch and called Anne that evening to apologize, and although their exchange had been brief, she assured him that as soon as she returned from the conference they'd elope and their families would have no choice but to accept it. In the meantime, even though they'd both apologized, having parted in anger left Joe feeling like he had a hole in his heart that would be there until he could hold Anne in his arms again.
Returning his attention to the TV and a scene of roof tops surrounded by water, he was startled when his cell phone rang, but relieved when he saw it was Anne. On connecting, she said in an anxious voice, "I'm sorry I couldn't get through to you sooner, honey, but cell service is broken up, probably because of the storm."
"Where are you now?" Joe asked.
"On Highway 90 between Raceland and Morgan City since the highway between New Orleans and Lafayette is flooded but I'll text you when we arrive there."
"It's too dangerous to be driving in thi
s," Joe said. "Stay in Morgan City."
"We can't. I called ahead and all the motels are full."
"Is there water over the road where you're driving?" he asked,
"Some in places, but it's not deep."
"It will be soon. They've opened more bays in the Morganza and the water's heading that way. There have also been flash flood warnings and when that happens there's no way of knowing how fast water's flowing over a highway and it doesn't take much to spin a car around or sweep it away. Stay in Morgan City. You can check with the police about shelters. Whatever you do, get off the highway as soon as you can."
"Okay, but my phone's breaking up. I'll call you from wherever we stop."
The phone cut out and Joe returned his attention to the TV where a reporter continued with, "The sheriff's office in Lafayette Parish has urged people to leave dozens of homes in Carencro where they have seven feet of water in some of the streets, and with up to nineteen inches of rain there's nowhere for water to go since the ground's saturated and the tributaries are packed."
Ace moved to stand beside Joe, and with his eyes focused on the TV, he said, "Morgan City's a good distance south of Carencro so the women should be okay down there."
"Okay for how long?" Joe asked. "The spillway's already sending millions of gallons of floodwaters into the Atchafalaya and from there it's a straight shot to Morgan City."
Their attention was diverted when the door swept open and their father burst in, saying, "We've got a cow stuck in the mud in the waterhole behind the stock barn so I need y'all to get the heavy chain for pullin' her out and I'll get the tractor and meet you down there."
"Why not Pike, Hank, Alex or Gator?" Joe asked about his brothers, not wanting to miss a call from Anne.
"Pike's helpin' the Landrys get their cattle in, and Hank, Alex and Gator are mendin' fence. Come on. We're wastin' time. I'll meet y'all at the water hole."
Joe and Ace geared up in hip boots and rain slickers and went to the stock barn. After searching through tools and equipment, they located a long heavy chain with hooks on both ends and headed for the waterhole, where they found their father backing the tractor partway down the low embankment, and the cow belly-deep in mud.
Joe climbed down the bank, and moving around the cow while standing in muddy water up to mid-thigh on his hip boots, he said to Ace, "Shove the chain under her belly to me."
After securing the cow with the chain, the men scrambled up the embankment, and hooking the ends of the chain to iron loops on the tractor, stepped back while Eloi Broussard moved forward slowly, bringing a bawl from the cow as the chain tightened around her middle and dragged her scrambling up the embankment. Once the cow was on high ground, Joe said to his father, "Ace can finish up here. I need to get back to the house."
"You need to help unhook this cow and make sure she's steady on her feet first," Eloi said.
"Then let's make it quick because I'm expecting a call."
Eloi looked at him with skepticism. "A call from who?"
"That's irrelevant. Let's just take care of this cow so we can get out of this downpour." Joe skirted the issue of exactly who the caller was. Word had been spreading that he and Anne were an item, but no one knew just how complete an item they really were.
The families had been feuding for generations, the Broussards determined to hold onto their deep-rooted Cajun culture, something the Harrisons looked down on, while the Harrisons, who considered themselves socially and financially above the Broussards, had for years been trying to buy them out, but the Broussards refused to sell land they'd been ranching for over a century.
Once the cow was standing solidly, Ace led her to the stock barn while Joe rushed back to the house to check his phone messages. Finding none, he tried calling Anne again only to have the call go immediately to voice mail.
Frantic with worry, he found himself caught between pacing the floor, glancing at the TV, and going to the window, only to repeat the restless pattern.
Two hours later, he'd still made no contact. "They should've stopped by now," he said to Ace, who'd returned from the barn to wait out the rain storm with him.
"Phone service could be out," Ace commented. "Maybe a tower's down. What's the story with you and Anne anyway? I'm thinkin' it's more than just hangin' out with the girl next door to piss off her parents."
Joe eyed Ace, tempted to tell all. From the time Anne and her siblings were kids they'd been forbidden to have anything to do with the Cajun coonasses next door, but that hadn't stopped Anne from meeting him at the bayou that ran the width of both properties before intersecting the Vermilion River. In her senior year in high school she established a pattern of riding her horse around the cane field, which brought her along the property line, and if he saw her he'd meet her at the bayou. Their secret meetings were short, but once Anne was on her own, with a job and an apartment in Lafayette, they were free to pursue a love that had been growing...
"I take it your silence means there's something more goin' on than just you and Anne slippin' off and hookin' fish in the bayou," Ace said. "If so, I don't envy you. There's been bad blood between the Broussards and Harrisons for generations. Mixin' red-blooded Cajuns with blue-blooded Brits would set off a fire storm."
Joe let out an ironic snort but said nothing because Ace was right, except the bloods had already mixed and a Cajun-Brit mongrel was on its way. He didn't even want to think of the reaction they'd get when the Harrisons learned one of their own had done the unthinkable. While the Harrisons and their ilk raised racing thoroughbreds, and their women belonged to societies like Daughters of the British Empire where they hosted fundraiser teas, the Broussards raised cattle and quarter horses, and their close Cajun community maintained distinctive values, foremost being a traditional rejection of protocols of social hierarchy.
The fact that his grandfather had reintroduced bush track races was another thorn in the Harrison's sides. On Sunday afternoons the Harrisons could look across the cane field and see scores of Cajuns from around the area drinking beer, eating boudin sausage and barbecue pork sandwiches, dancing to lively Cajun music, and watching match races with jockeys in street clothes instead of fancy silks. No rules. Just bring your horse and run him flat out and let the best man win. Payoff was beer, barbecue, and the satisfaction of having the fastest horse, along with some off-track betting, man-to-man, but no one asked questions, except Joe suspected that the Harrisons were actively looking for the chance to make an issue of that to shut the races down.
He returned his attention to the TV when he heard the commentator mention Morgan City, saying, "The Atchafalaya's already over its banks and flooding businesses along the river through Morgan City, and roads and farmlands in that area are inundated."
Joe glanced at his watch. It had been almost six hours since his last contact with Anne, and the knot in his stomach couldn't be ignored. After trying to reach her one last time and again getting voice mail, he called the St. Mary Parish sheriff's office and asked about accidents between Raceland, Morgan City, and Abbeville, and was told that search and rescue was ongoing and they had no information to pass on at that time.
Deciding the women must have stopped for the night in Morgan City, probably staying in a shelter, and for whatever reason Anne wasn't able to call, Joe settled into a recliner, and to occupy his mind during the endless wait, he focused on the lively discussion in his living room.
A few minutes before, his brothers Pike, Alex, and Hank dropped in to join him and Ace and wait out the rainstorm, and they were talking about the five of them going in together to purchase a racing thoroughbred, either a weanling to raise to a yearling, or a yearling to raise to a two-year-old, at which point they'd sell the horse for a profit, a practice called pinhooking.
Pike, the eldest of them, said, "I've been lookin' into it, and something novice pinhookers don't take into account is the number of bills that come between the weanling and yearling sales."
"He's right," Ace said. "Even a healthy
weanling needs insurance, look-and-see x-rays, routine vet care, and supplements. I'm with you both on investing in a yearling so we know what we have. Weanlings are truly babies. They can move forward or backward unexpectedly."
Hank, the second to youngest of them, said, "Yeah, but buyin' a weanling gives us more sales options than a yearling because it can be resold privately as a yearling or a two-year-old."
While his brothers weighed the pros and cons of the purchase, Joe turned up the volume on the TV, and staring at a screen with the image of a boat motoring past a house half submerged in water, he listened as the commentator said, "In addition to flash flood warnings for Lafayette, St. Martin, and Vermilion Parishes, high-water warnings are out for Morgan City..."
In his peripheral vision, he caught the headlights of an approaching car, which pulled to a halt in front of his house. He turned on the porchlight, and on opening the door was alarmed to find a police officer walking toward the house. When the man came out of the shadows, Joe recognized him as a former classmate in high school. "Hey, Curtis. What's up?" he asked.
"Something not good," Curtis Dautrieve replied. "Look, word's out you've been seein' Anne Harrison and we need to know if you've heard from her today?"
"I did around four this afternoon. Why? Where is she?"
"That's what we're tryin' to find out. She's missing."
Joe eyed Curtis with misgiving. "What do you mean missing? Missing from where?"
"The scene of an accident."
A rush of adrenaline sent Joe's heart pounding. "How bad?"
"Bad. The vehicle she was in left the road east of Morgan City. Searchers found it half submerged. The driver was pinned behind the wheel and had drowned, but the passenger door was open so we're thinkin' Anne left the scene to get help. Her handbag was caught up on the mirror and her cell phone and ID were in it. There's a search out for her now and we'll be keeping the Harrisons posted so you can check with them about the status of the search."
Tall Dark Stranger (Cajun Cowboys Book 1) Page 1
