Wyoming Brave

by Diana Palmer

  The Wyoming men are back! In their quest for true love on the range, are these ranchers bold enough to open their hearts to the women under their protection?

  Ren Colter may own an enormous ranch in Wyoming, but he scorns his wealth. He’s closed himself off since his fiancée left him months ago, so he’s shocked when he allows Meredith Grayling to stay with him. He tells himself it’s only to protect the blonde beauty from a stalker, but Ren’s alpha instincts soon kick in.

  The last thing Merrie wants is a devastatingly handsome man like Ren lurking around her. He’s too experienced, too appealing for her already shot nerves. What she needs is just to get away from it all: the man haunting her waking dreams and the one hunting her like an animal. But no woman escapes this Colter cowboy!

  Also available from Diana Palmer

  Long, Tall Texans

  Fearless

  Heartless

  Dangerous

  Merciless

  Courageous

  Protector

  Invincible

  Untamed

  Defender

  The Wyoming Men

  Wyoming Tough

  Wyoming Fierce

  Wyoming Bold

  Wyoming Strong

  Wyoming Rugged

  The Morcai Battalion

  The Morcai Battalion

  The Morcai Battalion: The Recruit

  The Morcai Battalion: Invictus

  For a complete list of titles available by Diana Palmer, please visit www.dianapalmer.com.

  Diana Palmer

  Wyoming Brave

  Dear Reader,

  As I write this, we are mourning Jim’s brother Doug. We lost him after a long illness. He leaves behind his wife of fifty years, Victoria, as well as sons Rodney, Paul and James and his wife, Jennifer; Valerie and her husband, Wayne; grandchildren and great-grandchildren; sister Kathleen; brothers John and Jimmy; and nieces and nephews.

  This book is dedicated to him. He was a twenty-year navy man, a veteran of the Vietnam War. He was brave and kind, and he loved his family and all sorts of animals, most especially his cats, and wild birds.

  We will miss him a lot. I imagine him sitting now by a pond in a green meadow, with a fishing pole in his hands. Waiting for the rest of us to show up.

  So long for now, Doug. It was a privilege to know you.

  Robert Douglas (Doug) Kyle

  1946–2016

  Patriot. Vietnam veteran. Father, grandfather, great-grandfather. He loved birds and NASCAR, cats and fishing. We loved him.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  EXCERPT FROM DEFENDER BY DIANA PALMER

  CHAPTER ONE

  REN COLTER WASN’T WELCOMING. In fact, he was immediately hostile when Merrie Grayling walked in the door of his Wyoming ranch with his brother.

  Merrie looked at him and felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach with a bat. He was glorious. Tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, with beautiful lean hands and a mouth that was chiseled and sensual-looking in a face topped by thick black hair and a straight nose. He was as handsome as his brother, but in a darker way. He scowled at her. But, she could hardly take her eyes off him. He was wearing work clothes; jeans and boots that had seen their share of action in the trenches, along with shotgun chaps and a sheepskin jacket. A black Stetson was set at a slant over one eye. Both glistening black eyes were on Merrie, making comments that he didn’t even have to put into words.

  She moved closer to Randall, which seemed to set Ren off even more. Randall was tall and blond, with laughing blue eyes and the face of a movie star. He was very different from his brother.

  “It’s only for a few weeks, Ren,” Randall said softly. “She’s...well, she’s been through a lot. Her father just died and she’s had some trouble with a...with that person I told you about.” He didn’t look at Merrie, because what he’d told Ren wasn’t quite the truth. “You have state-of-the-art surveillance and plenty of bodyguards around the place. I thought she’d be safe here.”

  “Safe.” He had a deep, velvety voice. He studied Merrie with his sensuous lips pursed, but he seemed to find nothing enticing in the woman with the long, platinum hair in a braid down her back, her pale blue eyes trained on him like spotlights. She was pretty enough, but Ren had had enough of pretty women. Her figure wasn’t easily discernible in what she was wearing. She had on jeans and a sweatshirt, both loose on her slender body, and she wore no makeup. Odd, he thought, for one of Randall’s women not to show up in a tight and trashy outfit, batting her eyelashes at Ren and flirting with him. Randall’s women were experienced and aggressive. Ren hated having them around. Of course, Randall was usually around to entertain them. But here he was, bringing in an odd female and leaving her while he traveled around the world for Ren, lauding their ranch’s prize bulls. Randall was a born salesman. Ren was more introverted, withdrawn. He didn’t really like people much. He hated their mother and had no contact with her. But he loved his brother.

  He avoided women like the plague since his fiancée, Angie, had been caught with not one, but two other men, only two weeks before they were supposed to be married. Ren called off the ceremony and left Angie to deal with the aftermath. She’d been Randall’s girl first, until she realized that he wasn’t about to marry anyone. She set her cap at Ren instead, and teased him out of his mind for the three months of their engagement. To Randall’s credit, he’d tried to warn his brother. Ren had been in love for the first time in his life, and wouldn’t listen.

  Angie, meanwhile, had been looking forward to living a life of luxury. Ren chaired a mining company that was Fortune 500. That was in addition to the very profitable purebred Black Angus herd that graced the thousand acres of his ranch, and the champion seed bulls that commanded millions in sales of both young bulls and semen straws (which held bull semen) that were sold internationally. The bloodlines of his cattle were impeccable.

  The worst part of their broken engagement was that Ren had read all about himself on Angie’s Facebook page. He’d had to buy a new laptop afterward, since he’d thrown the damned thing clear through a window out into the yard. One of the kindest things she’d said about him was that he was a clumsy, boring lover, and his hick ranch was a joke.

  Attorneys had taken care of Angie’s lies online. He hadn’t heard from her again. He hoped he never did. He was never letting another woman get close to him. Once burned, twice shy.

  Now he was being stuck with another one of Randall’s women. It didn’t put him in a sparkling mood. She wasn’t going to find much fun here. He’d make sure of that. He was tired of Randall’s parade of women.

  “She won’t cause any trouble,” Randall was saying.

  Merrie nodded. She didn’t say anything. The tall rancher didn’t like her. He didn’t even try to hide that.

  “Delsey!” Ren called.

  An older woman came out of the kitchen with a harassed look on her face. She was small and plump, with gray hair in a bun and dark, beautiful brown eyes. She looked at Merrie with faint surprise, then she smiled.


  “This is Merrie Grayling,” Randall announced to her, putting a comforting arm around Merrie, who was almost trembling from Ren’s open hostility. “She’s from a small town in Texas.”

  Delsey shook Merrie’s hand. “You’ll be welcome here, dear,” she said with a wary glance at Ren. She smiled at Randall. “You off again?”

  “Yes. To England, to talk to a baron,” he added with a grin. “He runs purebred Black Angus and we have some champion bulls we’d like to sell him. He’s interested, but the personal touch is what makes sales.”

  “It does,” Ren agreed. His mouth pulled to one side. “I don’t have it.”

  “His idea of the personal touch is a cattle prod,” Randall told Merrie with sparkling eyes.

  “Only with people,” Ren replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. He stared at Merrie. “I don’t use cruelty as a tool. My cattle are used to gentle handling. I like cattle.”

  “Me, too,” Merrie said softly, flushing when Ren stared at her. “But I like horses best.” She searched his hard face. “Do you have one...that I could ride, maybe?”

  “We’ll talk about it later.” He glanced at his watch. “Vet’s coming over to inoculate some replacement heifers. I have to go.”

  Randall started to hug him, but was met with ice-cold eyes, and put out a hand to shake instead. He gave a wry smile to his brother. “Don’t stand in the cold too long,” he advised. “Snow’s coming, they say.”

  “It’s Wyoming,” Ren replied. “We always have snow.”

  “That must be nice,” Merrie said hesitantly. “We hardly ever have even a flurry where I come from.”

  Ren didn’t reply. He glanced at Delsey. “I’ll be in late. Just leave me some cold cuts in the fridge.”

  “I’ll do that. You be careful with that horse,” she added with affectionate concern. “He bit Davey yesterday.”

  “What horse?” Randall asked.

  Ren’s face tensed. “We had a new cowboy, one I took on faith because Tubbs hired him and said he was a good hand. He was out at the line cabin, where we didn’t see him much. When I rode out there to ask him about some of the bred heifers, I found him passed out dead drunk, and the horse we’d given him as a saddle mount was bleeding from deep cuts he’d put in him, God knows with what. I beat the hell out of him before I called the authorities and they took him away. He’s being prosecuted for cruelty to animals. I told them I’d be happy to testify,” he added coldly.

  Merrie wrapped her arms tightly around herself and shivered. That brought back painful memories of what she’d endured from her father. Lashings, beatings, all her young life. She was only twenty-two and she’d never been on a date, never been kissed, never had any friends...

  Her father was so rich that everyone in the area was afraid of him, so the girls—Merrie and her older sister, Sari—had never told anyone what went on in the beautiful mansion in Comanche Wells, Texas.

  “Cold?” Randall asked softly as she shivered.

  She shook her head. “My father...hurt a horse like that once.”

  “Did you turn him in?” Ren asked curtly.

  She swallowed. Hard. “People were too scared of him. It wouldn’t have done any good. The trainer just made sure the horses were never out when he went to the stables.”

  “You live on a ranch?” Ren asked.

  She nodded. “Not nearly as big as this one. We just had...have...horses.”

  “Well, you won’t go near this one. Hurricane is the most dangerous animal on the place. He took a hunk out of one cowboy’s arm and barely missed killing another who tried to get a bridle off him. He won’t let anybody touch him.”

  “The bridle’s still on?” Randall asked worriedly.

  “Yes.” Ren grimaced. “His head’s rubbed raw by it. The cowboy probably dragged him around with it. We’ll try again to get the vet to sedate him.” He shook his head. “Can’t hold him still long enough for the man to get a needle in him. He knows a guy at the forest service who has a tranquilizer gun. He’s trying to borrow one.”

  “Poor thing,” Merrie said softly. “A man who’ll do that to a horse will do it to people,” she added, her eyes lowered as she remembered her father.

  Ren studied her curiously. “In fact, the sheriff thinks he had a poster on the man Tubbs hired.” He looked at Randall. “Next time, I’ll do the hiring,” he said with a faint upturn of his mouth. “Tubbs has no judgment about people.”

  “She does,” Randall said, hugging Merrie close to his side. “She paints.”

  “A lot of people paint,” Ren said dismissively. He checked his watch again. “Have a safe flight,” he told his brother.

  “Thanks,” Randall said. He smiled. “Stay out of trouble.”

  Ren shrugged. “Not my fault,” he replied. “The man insulted my cattle.”

  “The Billings police were very unhappy with you,” Randall persisted.

  Ren chuckled. “Yes, they were. They made me take a brief anger management course. Then I went to a conference in Montana and another guy insulted my cattle.” He sighed. “Guess I’ll stay out of Billings until the police forget what I look like.”

  Randall shook his head. Ren winked at him and walked out the door without a word to Merrie. His spurs jingled as he walked. They sounded like bells to Merrie, who smiled at Randall.

  “He’ll be all right,” he assured her. “He’s just uneasy around people he doesn’t know. Right?” he asked Delsey.

  She drew in a breath. “He’s awful around people he doesn’t know. I hope you’ve got grit, young lady,” she added with a smile. “He’ll test you.”

  “I’ve lived through hard times,” Merrie said with a warm smile. “I’ll just keep out of his way.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Delsey said with a laugh. “Especially with winter coming on and snow forecasted. It’s hard on cattle and cowboys when it gets deep.”

  “I love snow,” Merrie said wistfully.

  “You wouldn’t if you’d ever lived through a Wyoming winter,” Delsey assured her.

  She just grinned.

  “Well, I’ve got to go, too,” Randall said. He kissed Merrie on the cheek. “You be careful. Stay away from the stables, and don’t let Ren bother you.” He hesitated. “If he gets too bad, just text me and I’ll take you home. Okay?”

  She felt a chill of premonition when he said that, but she managed a smile. “Okay.” She hugged him. “Thanks, Randall.”

  “You’re my friend,” he teased. “No worries. You’ll be fine here. Take care.”

  “You, too,” she said.

  “Drive slowly,” Delsey said, shaking a finger at him. “No more speeding tickets!”

  “Dreamer,” he chided. He winked at her as he left.

  * * *

  DELSEY SHOWED MERRIE to her room. “I’ll have one of the boys bring your luggage up. It’s still sitting in the hall where Randall left it.” She paused. “Don’t let Ren upset you,” she added gently. “He’s hard on people he doesn’t know. Especially women. He had a bad experience. It’s made him cold.”

  “I won’t bother him,” Merrie promised. “I brought my sketchbooks and my knitting. I’ll keep busy.”

  “Good. If you need anything, I’m usually in the kitchen or somewhere in the house. There are helpers who come on certain days to help me with the heavy stuff. I’m feeling my age a little, but Ren likes the way I cook,” she said with a laugh.

  Merrie drew in a long breath. “Our housekeeper, Mandy, taught me to cook. She even taught me how to cut up a chicken and field dress game.” She laughed softly. “I love being in the kitchen, too.”

  “I’ll let you help, after you’ve been here a bit.” Her wise dark eyes searched Merrie’s. “It’s a stalker, isn’t it? Randall told me.”

  Merrie hesitated. “I don
’t want to put anyone in harm’s way...”

  “Ren has this place protected like it was Fort Knox,” Delsey told her. “Nobody gets in here without security clearance. Did you notice the cameras at the front gate when you came in?” Merrie nodded. She continued. “We even have facial recognition software. It tracks people.”

  “Wow,” Merrie said softly.

  “Sadly, it didn’t work on the cowboy who beat that poor horse.” She winced. “Hurricane was the sweetest gelding on the place. It breaks my heart to see what that man did to him.” She drew in a breath. “If he keeps this up, they’ll have to put him down.” She bit her lip, then forced a smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack.” She looked out the door and peered over the banister. “Brady!” she called. “Can you bring those bags up here?”

  “Sure thing, Miss Delsey,” the cowboy said with a long drawl.

  He brought the bags up the staircase to Merrie’s room.

  “Thanks,” she said softly, with a smile.

  Brady tipped his hat. He was Delsey’s age, but was wiry and tough and apparently very strong. He grinned at Merrie. “You Mr. Randall’s friend that come to stay awhile?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am. I’m Merrie. Nice to meet you, Brady.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, miss.” He turned to Delsey. “Willis wants to know if you’ll make the men a cake.”

  “I will,” Delsey replied. “What kind do they want?”

  “Chocolate, with that white frosting you make.”

  “I’ll start on it right now.” She turned to Merrie. “Have you had lunch?”

  “Yes, thanks,” Merrie told her. “Randall got me a cheeseburger and fries on the way here.”

  “Okay, then. Supper’s at seven. Ren keeps late hours. Sometimes he doesn’t even show up for supper. Like tonight. He told me to leave cold cuts in the fridge, which means he probably won’t get home until bedtime.”

  “Ranching is hard on schedules,” Brady said with a chuckle. “Especially for boss man. He has to be everywhere before the bad weather coming.”

 
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