The pea rocks were like jagged swords stabbing his water-wrinkled feet as he started on the lane toward staff row. He gritted his teeth and continued toward the warmth of his cabin—clothes and boots too.
He’d just started on the first hill on the road when he heard the low hum of an engine and saw a flash of headlights through the line of pine trees. He stopped and leaned onto the cane, a cramp building in his leg. Should he jump into hiding? Or wait to see who was in the cart and pray it wasn’t the boss? That wouldn’t be pleasant—not pleasant at all.
Cold, wet and frustrated, he stayed put. He was too damn tired. He wasn’t about to hide, even if he was darn close to being naked because the sheet wasn’t doing any good.
Remember. Don’t get angry. Get even.
He smiled. He was one step closer to seeing that his plans were fulfilled. Felicia thought she’d managed to shake him, but he’d show her. He knew exactly where to find the runaway. She’d made the mistake of mentioning to Susie that she wanted to check out the local entertainment. He’d give her entertainment all right. Wonder how she’d like being locked up in one of the cabins for the night?
Oh, she might have mistakenly taken him for a wet-behind-the-ears cowboy, but he knew exactly how to handle rowdy women. Having three sisters of his own and being the only son, many times they’d crossed a line with him, but he’d learned how to handle the situation. His father had taught him how to treat a woman in a way that allowed her to believe she had the upper hand. In fact, Dade knew a lot about women- what they wanted, how they wanted to be treated, not from experience, but from his sisters always filling his head with the diary of a female. They swore they made him the gentleman he was today, but Dade knew some of the credit went to his father too. He was the greatest gentleman to have as a role model. He’d always treated his wife with kindness, generosity, patience, and respect. Maybe that’s what scared the hell out of Dade when it came to relationships. He had big boots to fill if he wanted to be anything like his dad. Dade felt like a failure even before he got out of the gate.
The only serious relationship he’d ever had was with his high school sweetheart, and she broke up with him once they started planning their wedding, stating they needed to spread their wings before they settled down. Pfft! She wanted to spread more than her wings. Two months later, she ended up pregnant by one of Dade’s buddies. No hard feelings, though. Dade wanted her to be happy. And, well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. At twenty-five, he guessed he was still young enough not to worry about settling down anytime soon. He had every plan to stay here, at Nirvana. Paradise.
The headlights were close now and he could see the Gator was slowing, until finally pulling over into the grass. Cord, the newest hand, didn’t even blink an eye as Dade slipped into the passenger seat, tossing his cane into the back. His wet ass stuck to the vinyl and, when he shifted, his butt cheek was like a suction cup.
“Out for a stroll on this lovely evening?” Cord asked sarcastically as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. They turned toward staff row as lightning flashed across the sky, followed by thunder as if to drive home the other man’s words of the ‘lovely’ evening.
“I’d rather not talk about it. I’ll muck out the stalls for a month if you keep this to yourself.”
“Nah, just consider it a courtesy. I’ve been in similar situations myself and needed a helping hand. I’m sure I’ll need a favor one day.”
And neither of them said another word on the short trip.
Once Dade was in his cabin, he dropped the soaked sheet, gave it a good kick across the floor, and stomped to his dresser. He tossed around everything in his drawers, rummaging for something to wear, but not really seeing anything.
He was up shit creek without a paddle. Not only had he busted the door to the massage room, but he lost the boss’ sister. Hell, maybe he should just pack his things and catch the next bus out of Dodge. But he wasn’t a quitter, or a deserter. He liked being here and had every intention of staying put. He wouldn’t let a brat ruin his career.
Why did the boss’s sister have to show up? Didn’t she have fancy parties and rich boyfriends to keep her occupied?
Chase’s request wasn’t pleasurable, but Dade had a lot of respect for his boss and felt like he owed the man. While his sister was at Nirvana Ranch visiting, Dade’s task was to keep watch on her. So, Dade had done that, not asking any questions, not even sure what he was watching for, but keeping an eye on her from afar and making sure she stayed out of trouble. The sister either had a problem with keeping herself in line, or Chase was being the protective brother—maybe a little bit of both. Dade, himself, knew that no woman appreciated being treated like a child, but assumed Chase knew what he was doing. That was family business and none of Dade’s.
For the last two days, he’d stayed close, but thought he’d given her a respectable amount of space. While she was at the dining hall, he sat in the corner. When she was getting a massage, he had decently stayed outside and took a nap on the bench under the shade of an oak tree. And when she’d taken off her clothes on the dock, wearing the matching lacy bra and panties that were the perfect shade of purple…oh fuck! She’d done that for his benefit. She’d known, even then, that he was watching her. Now he didn’t feel so bad that he’d gotten a boner when she’d flashed her body—and what a great figure. He was a red-blooded man and couldn’t deny that a glimpse of skin had filled his fantasies since. Even now, an image of the firm, pale mounds lifted high in the lace, the shadow of hard nipples, made his dick shoot up like a lightning rod. Thank goodness for twenty-twenty vision. Guess I’m no longer cold.
Sure, he could handle her teasing, but locking him in the room and disappearing was crossing a line. They were adults—but in her favor, she wasn’t being treated like one, having him follow her every move.
This was all bullshit. Why did Chase choose Dade for this task in the first place? Probably because he was still too weak to do much else. There were no words to describe the blast to a man’s ego when he had to rely on others to take care of him. Up until a few weeks ago, he’d had a nurse that stayed with him most of the day. He’d been beyond embarrassment when he stretched his boxers while she was rubbing his leg. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked, her or him. Dade was certain that any of the other cowboys in the same situation would have handled it with confidence, maybe even taking it a step further and kissing her. Not Dade. He’d expected her to slap him into tomorrow. She hadn’t slapped him, but she did turn three shades of red.
Soon, everything would be back to normal—as normal as things could be with a limp and scars. Hell, he didn’t mind the scars. They weren’t what was keeping him from getting back on the land. Yet his leg had good days and bad days.
Fact was, he was walking now, on his own, and he’d come real far from lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming and going out of his body and docs telling him that he wouldn’t walk again. By some miracle, and through the grace of God, he was back on his feet and proving that nothing kept a determined cowboy down and out. Yet, his recovery just wasn’t going as fast as he wished. His buddy, Dodge, kept saying, “Don’t rush recovery. Let the body dictate how much time it needs to heal”. Most of the time, Dade had listened, but he wanted to be out on the land, working beside the other hands, being part of the elite group of Nirvana cowboys. They were known throughout Wyoming, and beyond, as the cowboys that all of the women wanted to meet. Dade never considered himself a sex icon, he just wanted to prove to himself, and to others, that he was capable when it came to ranching.
Instead of being on the land, he was acting as some spoiled girl’s keeper—a beautiful, spoiled girl who was well over the age of consent.
After quickly dressing, he smashed his hat lower on his head, stomped out to his Gator and headed toward the ranch garage where the company truck was parked. He had no choice but to borrow the vehicle. Usually he only took it to run errands or pick up guests from the airport, but tonight he was chasing the runaway. If he
was lucky, he’d be back before anyone was the wiser.
Unfortunately, Mother Nature must have had a different plan for him. A few miles from Nirvana, the weather took a turn for the worse. He slowed the truck on the country road that he knew like the back of his hand as the rain took on a whirling pattern. He turned up the wipers to full blast, but visibility was next to nothing.
At the bridge, he came to a complete stop. Water had already risen to the road and, from what the local weather forecaster said, they were calling for four more inches of rain before morning. He rubbed his jaw and sat back into the leather seat, listening to the swishing of the wipers. He had two options. He could turn around and head back to Nirvana. Hell, it wasn’t his fault the brat Felicia slipped away from the ranch while he was in his massage session. Or he could continue into town, taking the risk that neither he nor Felicia would make it back across the bridge before morning, or whenever the water subsided.
A thought came to him. What if she attempted to cross the flooded bridge? She wasn’t from around here and wouldn’t know how flash floods affect the area. He was taking a guess from Susie’s bedside chatter that Felicia had actually gone into town. Maybe she’d already made it back to Nirvana. Not possible, not when he hadn’t passed any cars since leaving the ranch. She couldn’t have gotten by him.
If he went home, he’d have to tell Chase that Felicia was missing.
No, thank you.
The boss would thump his ass a good one, and Chase wasn’t one to piss off.
There was something even more pressing that bothered Dade. His boss was a good man. He’d certainly done a lot for Dade in the last year during his painful recovery. Now Chase and Kaycee had a new baby, and they deserved some time to relax and enjoy their family. Letting him down wouldn’t work for Dade. He was obligated to do what he could…even if that meant tolerating a manipulative woman.
Just a few more weeks…
She wouldn’t stay forever.
His stomach twisted. Sweat beaded on his brow.
He sure hoped she kept her clothes on. Well, actually, he didn’t.
No more babysitting jobs for him. He’d make sure that by the time two weeks had passed and sister went bye-bye, he’d be able to walk without the use of the cane. After taking such good care of Chase’s sister—oh, Dade happily would—he’d have no choice but to put Dade back onto Nirvana working.
With one final sigh, he slowly pushed his foot into the gas pedal and carefully steered the truck across the bridge. The water rushed through the large tires, but the truck stayed steady and forward. The Dodge would take a licking and keep on ticking, not that he wanted to test the theory.
As far as Dade saw things, he faced two important issues. He had to get Felicia back to the ranch without one hair harmed on her pretty head, and he needed to get the truck returned to the garage without a scratch. Both should be easy, but he had a feeling that anything involving Felicia wouldn’t go like clockwork. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up in the unemployment line.
Worse, he’d have to go home.
Dade had left his small town looking for something, wanting to feel useful, and that’s when he found Nirvana. Although he didn’t quite fit in at first with the rough and tough cowboys who’d experienced the world, he’d earned his way up, proving his capabilities. After he’d gotten thrown from the saddle and lived to tell about it, they’d learned a new respect for him.
Growing up, he was the son of parents who’d encouraged him to play sports and do well in school because no one could take a man’s education away from him. By the time he’d graduated high school with honors, they’d just assumed he’d go off to college, maybe become a scientist or doctor, but Dade had other plans. He wanted to experience life and not be stuck inside of a classroom for another four years. They’d fought him on it, but early one morning, he’d packed his bags and took off down that country road, heading south. His parents didn’t talk to him for a while after that, but they came around eventually.
Then the accident happened and they’d tried everything to get him to come home, but he’d refused. He’d already earned his independence and knew if he went home, he’d lose all of it in one fell swoop. He’d probably still be lying in bed, allowing his mom to wait on him, babying him—incapable of realizing his resiliency. Staying here at Nirvana, surrounded by virility and life, courage and prosperity, it all made him want to do more.
He needed to stay on his own two feet. He liked working with his hands, with the animals and seeing growth. Although he was limited on what he could do, he’d been sneaking to the bull-pen and spending a lot of time with Killer Instincts, a bull saved from the rodeo. Dade understood the danger of the beast, but the challenge of socializing him was something indescribable. It gave him purpose. He got that at Nirvana and more. He had a family here, and men he called brothers. Sure, he missed his sisters, but they were all grown up, living their own lives too.
Finally making it across the bridge in one piece, he pulled onto the main road, closer to finding Felicia, hopefully.
Now he’d have to start thinking how they’d survive for the rest of the night.
****
“Want another, little lady?” the bartender asked, flashing a wide-toothed smile that probably earned him a pocketful of tip money.
“I’ll have another lime Mojito, please,” she said, sliding a ten across the pockmarked wood toward the handsome, bearded man. “Keep the change.”
He winked. “Ya know, you look like you’re adventurous. Have you ever tried a Spiked Cotton Candy?” he asked, a twinkle lighting his grey eyes.
She gave her head a shake. “Nope.”
“It’s my specialty. How about I mix you one up. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Sure. I’m up for trying something different tonight.” She smiled, but her comment wasn’t limited to drinks.
“That sounds a little dangerous.”
“Sometimes we all have to live on the edge.”
While he grabbed her drink, she whirled on her squeaky bar stool, scanning the crowd. The place was full of well-dressed cowboys—a little too well-dressed for Felicia’s taste. Growing up on a ranch around cowboys, she had what she referred to as a ‘cowboy-radar’. She could separate the ‘real’ ones from the others—those who bought their fancy button ups for looks instead of durability. She knew—and loved—cowboys. Always had a soft spot for the rough-and-tough cowpokes who wore a Stetson and Wranglers like a pro. She blamed the rodeo for her fascination. Her dad took her and Chase to an event when she was ten and she watched leather-skinned men sporting worn boots and hats, bravely climbing atop dangerous beasts in the bull-pen. She’d fallen in love with their courage and skill. Then a few years later, one of those rodeo stars she’d admired died when he was gored by the horns of a bull. She’d cried for days.
Several years ago she’d dated a cowboy, but he was much like the men here—a weekend cowboy—a whole crowd of red neck boys fit and fiddle, just missing the one thing she wanted in a man. Callused hands and nice, firm riding butt. Muscles that didn’t come from a gym, but from hard work. An unshaven jaw and dimples. Like Dade.
Holy schmoley! What had come over her? Undress in front of a man once and she was all hot and bothered. Affected enough that she’d needed some time away. Sweat beaded between her breasts now and her heart beat against her ribs. She needed to get over this crazy, ridiculous fantasy that looped through her mind. Dade naked and touching her.
Nope, wouldn’t happen.
Couldn’t happen.
Would he ever forgive her for taking his clothes and locking him in the room? She’d make sure he got everything back, especially his boots. A cowboy always had his favorites and by the worn look of the leather, she’d taken his best.
She gave her head a shake. She wasn’t at the honky-tonk to ponder over Dade, his boots, and his feelings. He was back at Nirvana, probably still sleeping after his massage.
A popular country song drifted from the speak
ers and she rolled her shoulders to the beat. She was in the mood to dance, but hadn’t spotted a single man who looked like he’d want to dance the night away.
“There you are, ma’am.”
She swiveled back around to face the bartender. He’d garnished her drink with a cherry and pineapple stuck on a red toothpick. “That’s almost too pretty to drink.” The color reminded her of the crisp, blue sky on a cloudless day—a Wyoming sky.
“By the way, I’m Mickey. I’ve owned this place for thirty years. You’re not from around here, are you?” He placed a bowl of fresh pretzels close.
“No, I’m not. That obvious, huh?” She brought the drink to her lips and took a long sip. The sweet, frizzy taste enlightened her taste buds. “Wow, that’s delicious. What’s in it?”
“Can’t tell you. Family secret.” He wagged his brows. “And I guessed you’re not from around here, well, because you’d have tried one of these drinks before if you were.” He offered her a flirty smile. He had thick, silver-streaked, black hair, wide shoulders and a nice smile that screamed, “I work for tips”.
“I’m Felicia. And is this place usually this busy on a Friday night?”
“Nope. There’s a rodeo this weekend at the county fair. Hotels close to the fairgrounds book up fast so we get the overflow. It’s great for business and they don’t always get so rowdy, at least not on the first night of the event. You here with them?”
“No. My brother, Chase Sever, owns Nirvana Ranch. I’m visiting.”
Recognition lit his eyes. “I know Chase…good fellow. A few months back he donated his time and money to help rebuild a home for a local family who lost everything in a fire. Glad to see he’s doing well for himself out there on that ranch with his new wife and child. I’m happy for him, happy for the business he brings around these parts, although we don’t see many guests. When you’re at paradise, who wants to wander too far?”
She shrugged. “I guess I tend to push my boundaries.”
The Discreet Cowboy (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 6) Page 3
