Cowboy from the Future
Cassandra Gannon
Text copyright © 2014 Cassandra Gannon
Cover Image copyright © 2014 Cassandra Gannon
All Rights Reserved
Published by Star Turtle Publishing
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Also by Cassandra Gannon
The Elemental Phases Series
Warrior from the Shadowland
Guardian of the Earth House
Exile in the Water Kingdom
Treasure of the Fire Kingdom
Queen of the Magnetland
Magic of the Wood House
Coming Soon: Destiny of the Time House
A Kinda Fairytale Series
Wicked Ugly Bad
Beast in Shining Armor
Coming Soon: Happily Ever Witch
Other Books
Not Another Vampire Book
Love in the Time of Zombies
Vampire Charming
Cowboy From the Future
If you enjoy Cassandra’s books, you may also enjoy books by her sister, Elizabeth Gannon:
The Consortium of Chaos series
Yesterday’s Heroes
The Son of Sun and Sand
The Guy Your Friends Warned You About
Electrical Hazard
The Only Fish in the Sea
Other Books
The Snow Queen
Coming Soon: The Man Who Beat-up Prince Charming
To road trips with my family in the American West.
Mule rides down the Grand Canyon that nearly killed us.
Driving 100 miles into the California desert to see a cement dinosaur.
Trying to visit all of South Dakota in twenty minutes and still have time for the gift shop.
Rattlesnakes in Colorado, food poisoning in Utah, sunburns in Wyoming, hideous hotel comforters everywhere…
And some of the best times I’ll ever have.
Chapter One
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Friendly locals, stunning vistas, and exciting adventures await you as you explore the American West. This once-in-a-lifetime experience will bring your employees closer and energize them to drive your business forward. Quaint mining towns, authentic locals, and up-close encounters with nature are just part of our all-inclusive service.
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Brown’s Glampling Tours Official Pocket Guide
The woman’s aura was bright gold.
Not the flat golden color of a coin or the gaudy shade of a cheap ring, but the luminous glow of sunrays shining on water. Brilliant and clean. Like warmth and light and life itself. Behind the bar, Cade Westin felt himself go still right down to his core. No one could have an aura that pure. It was impossible.
She was impossible.
Everybody else was gaping at the woman’s coat, which was bright pink. The kind of pink that didn’t exist anymore, even in a big polis like Deadwood. For an outpost on the ass end of nowhere, like Shadow-of-the-Gods, the woman’s strange clothing was the most vibrant saturation of color anyone had ever seen.
…Anyone who couldn’t see her incredible aura, anyway, which was even brighter than her clothes.
She walked into Cade Westin’s saloon and the handful of regulars who’d braved the snow for the promise of hard liquor fell silent. Some with them froze with their glasses halfway to their mouths and all of them were wondering the exact same thing:
Who the fuck was she?
Everyone in the polis knew everyone in the polis, so there was no way she could have passed unnoticed in their midst for even a day. But, on the other hand, strangers didn’t just wander into Shadow-of-the-Gods at this time of year. The snows were too high for horses and you’d have to be a suicidal idiot to hike in. Nobody could survive on foot for more than a few hours in this weather.
Honestly, even at the height of summer, a lady like this wouldn’t come to Shadow-of-the-Gods. And she sure as hell wouldn’t enter Cade’s bar.
So where had she come from?
The woman pushed back the quilted hood of her jacket, looking around the dismal interior of the tavern. A curly mass of strawberry blonde hair tumbled past her shoulders. Shiny and soft. The color of it was nearly as amazing as her incredible aura and the vivid shade of her coat. In a world where nearly everything was dingy brown and faded gray, she was so fucking bright.
“Hi.” She said to the room at large, her eyes scanning nervously. “Um… I’m sort of lost and I think I need help. Which way is the lodge?”
The miners stared at her with varying degrees of confusion, bafflement, and total incomprehension. Nobody talked like that. Not anymore. Some Outlanders still used the ancient dialect and, on the other side of the spectrum, it was favored by the leading groups of humans. But Cade had never heard anyone speak it with her elegant precision. It was like listening to somebody recite from an ancient text.
It was… beautiful.
“The lodge?” She repeated. “The big log cabin-y place that sells t-shirts and overpriced cocoa?” Whatever that gibberish meant, it came out sounding like question. “If it’s too far to walk, I could just call a cab to take me back.” She frowned down at the flat box in her hand. “I already tried, but there’s no cell reception. Like, anywhere.” She held up the box, moving it around at arm’s length and shaking her head. “Do you have a landline around here?”
Silence.
“Internet?”
Silence.
“Any kind of phone or computer or… anything?”
Silence.
Uncomfortable with everyone gaping at her, the woman cleared her throat. Her eyes skimmed over their grubby clothes and grubbier faces. “Is this the Wild West reenactment thing? Shit, I didn’t check that stupid guide book, but maybe that’s happening today. Am I not supposed to talk about modern technology?” She shoved the box into her pocket, like it was somehow offending them. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ruin your little Dodge City act. I’m part of the Brown’s Glamping Tours group. I just want to get back to my hotel and take a hot shower.”
Not one of those sentences made any sense. Cade’s mind shifted through them, trying to decipher their meaning. Everyone else was doing the same, with an equal lack of success.
“Hotel?” She said again. “The sign outside says this is a hotel, actually. At least, I think it does. In kind of… weird English.” She looked back towards the door and the blizzard outside. “Which is good, because I can’t keep walking out there. It’s getting dark and it’s way too cold. What the hell am I going to do if I can’t…?” She trailed off and shook her head. “No. Let’s not panic.”
Cade could tell she was starting to panic.
“Everything’s fine.” The woman said to herself, trying to calm down. “Think positive. I’m avoiding the evening sing-along, right?” She took a deep breath. “So if you don’t have phones in this… um… rustic little town, do you rent rooms?” Her eyes drifted over the patrons and she winced. “With locks. Like a big lock.”
The Westins did rent rooms. Technically. No one but the most desperate soul
s would ever want to sleep in them, though. Drinking was the main pastime in Shadow-of-the-Gods, so, most evenings, the tables downstairs were filled, while the rooms above stayed empty. A lady like this one couldn’t have been more out of place staying there, if she’d been wearing a sheep on her head.
“Okay, I’ll make it simpler: I’m looking for the owner. Is he here?” She spoke more slowly and added expansive hand gestures. “His name was on the sign outside.” She pointed to the door. “I think it’s supposed to say --like-- ‘Cade’ or ‘Cane’ or something, but the letters are messed-up.”
Cade recognized his own name buried in the thick accent and finally managing to piece the rest of her words together. The woman used the most antiquated vernacular he’d ever heard. Not even his grandmother had spoken so formally and she’d taken pride in her erudition, insisting that her grandsons learn the outdated dialect that her own grandmother had taught her grandmother. Always socially conscious, she’d insisted that they all master the obsolete language of the elite, even Cade, who she’d mainly seen as an embarrassment.
With a little effort, all the Westin boys could understand this woman, but they were probably the only ones for a hundred miles.
Jacobi pointed towards the bar, looking shell-shocked. Still in his teens, the kid was the youngest of the brothers, with brown hair and Westin blue eyes. Cade was the only one without that distinctive turquoise gaze. He’d been born with his mother’s inhuman purple irises.
“Uhhh…” Jake was rarely at a loss for words, so the woman had clearly made an impression on him, too. Mostly, he played card games, lost money, and read cheaply illustrated adventure stories. The boy loved every half-baked, tall-tale there was. Especially, if it involved pretty girls or dangerous outlaws. Cade could already see his mind concocting dramatic explanations for the woman’s appearance. “I mean… um… Cade’s my brother.” Cade was actually Jake’s half-brother, but none of them paid attention to the distinction. “He’s right there.”
The woman glanced over at Cade, meeting his eyes. She was scared. He’d never seen anyone look so scared and there were a lot of frightened people in this part of the ruined world. Cade felt his own tension level rise, imagining all the horrors that could befall a lone, wealthy woman who looked like this one.
Because she was obviously rich.
Her coat and educated speech were dead giveaways. And then there was her body. Even under the thick, unidentified fabric he could see she was curvy little thing. Only the rich had money for extra food, so nearly everyone in the polis was lean and hardened. This woman’s body was soft. And seductive. And clean. Gods, she was so damn clean. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her skin. …Her smooth, flawless, fucking perfect skin, which was going to feature prominently in every erotic fantasy he ever had for the rest of his life.
Someone took very good care of this girl. Someone important. And they were going to want her back.
Cade’s other half-brother Dekon was already getting ready for an invasion. Drawing his laz-gun, he moved to the windows and scanned the whiteout conditions outside, looking for approaching trouble. Deke had been a paranoid lunatic even before the Wilderness War. Since he got back from the battlefields of the Wilderness, he’d been a barely functioning, insomniac, madman. And that was on his good days.
Half the patrons edged away from Deke, wary of what he might do with a weapon in his one working hand. His left arm had been amputated at the elbow, but that only made people more frightened of him.
A leg snapped off of a mismatched chair, as Obby Howwe scooted out of Deke’s path. Cade had built most of the furniture pieces in the saloon and, try as he might, he never could get the damn things to stay together. Deke slanted Obby a warning glare, irritated by the noise, and Obby nearly climbed beneath the slanted table in fear. All the Westins had bad reputations, but most people believed that Deke once killed a man for sneezing too loud.
Which was ridiculous. Actually, he’d just stabbed him.
Deke glanced over at Cade and shook his head, indicating that no one was on the street. Cade’s eyebrows slammed down, more confused than ever. Had she arrived here alone? How was that possible? If she was really lost, whoever she belonged to would level the whole polis to find her, again. Cade certainly would if such a treasure was his.
She didn’t notice the rising tension level. Or maybe she was just so tense herself that she didn’t have room for anyone else’s tension. She crossed the room, her boots thudding against the wooden planks in the silent room. Even her shoes looked odd. Whoever had sewed them must have spent hours getting the stitches that perfect. Every single thing about this girl screamed “expensive.”
Why was she here?
“Cade?” She looked him up and down, taking in his massive size. “Of course, you’re Cade. You’re very… Cade looking, aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer that, because he didn’t know what it meant. It didn’t sound like a compliment. All his attention was locked on her aura, so he doubted he could’ve come up with a response, not matter what she said. The woman fucking glowed. It was all he could do to stay standing in the face of that kind of purity. For the first time in his life, he knew the gods were real. They had to be, to create someone so beautiful.
Deep inside of Cade, something… clicked. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like some missing piece snapped into place.
Maybe she felt it, too. The woman looked away, her gaze flicking to the full-length, centuries-old portrait of a naked woman hanging behind the bar. Legend had it that the shapely blonde’s name had been “Mon-Row.” Until that moment, she’d been the prettiest thing Cade had ever seen. Now, he knew better.
“Nice.” The woman stopped on the other side of the bar, nodding towards the picture. “I’ll bet they have that same Marilyn shrine at the local Hilton. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, right?”
When he didn’t respond to that, the new prettiest thing he’d ever seen gave him an uneasy smile. Up close her hair was even shinier. He’d never imagined that hair could be that shiny. The fire in the hearth was turning the strawberry curls a magical shade between red and blonde.
Four gods, she was a work of art.
“Soooo… right.” She cleared her throat, when he continued to silently watch her. “I’d like a room. Something private, with a bathroom and electricity. I can’t believe I have to actually say that, but electricity seems to be optional in this place, so…” Her eyes went to the lanterns flickering overhead. “I’d really, really like some electricity.”
Cade had no clue what “electricity” was. Was she just making up words?
“And do any of your rooms have --like-- a heater? Anything warmer than everyplace else around here would be great.” She was talking too fast. Cade could have sworn she was shaking, not from the temperature, but from nerves. “Isn’t it awfully cold?”
Understanding her was like trying to read forgotten words off a crumbling wall. With some concentration, Cade managed to find the translations and fancy accent he needed. “You wish… to stay… here?”
“Nooooo, I really don’t wish it, actually. But, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” She swung a pack off her shoulder, setting it on the ground. It was made of an exceptionally smooth material and decorated with multicolored dots. It had to have cost more money than even existed in the world. “It’s going to be fine, though. Everything’s going to be fine.” The words seemed aimed at herself. “Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine. Just stay calm.” She took another deep breath and refocused on Cade. “Am I still in Wyoming?”
“Why o’ Ming?” Cade didn’t recognize that name and he could tell from the baffled looks of the eavesdropping patrons that no one else did, either. “Which polis is that?”
Forest green eyes met his and he saw them fill with something even greater than fear. Something like real terror. “Where am I?” She got out hoarsely.
Cade’s heart flipped at her shaky tone. He wanted to sooth her panic… which was so complete
ly out of character for him that he knew he was in trouble.
His whole life, his family had been nagging him to be softer. Less demanding and stubborn and cynical. The cold blood of his mother’s people ran through his veins, after all. The Voltyn were a heartless race, without emotion. They were only bred to fight.
So why did Cade want to vault over the bar and comfort this fragile human girl?
This wasn’t good.
“You’re in Shadow-of-the-Gods.” Jacobi put in quickly, seeing that Cade was frozen in place. He was the most outgoing of the brothers; his aura a clear, goodhearted blue. “I got no idea how you managed to get here,” he told the woman, “but you’re safe, now.”
Cade wasn’t so sure about that. His gaze scanned over the bar, taking in the hungry expressions of the patrons. Ladies were rare in these parts and now this helpless, unprotected, untouchable being was within touching distance.
Deke arched a brow at Cade, waiting to see how he wanted to handle this. Deke’s aura was red, with jagged slashes of black as a result of the Wilderness War. Bloodshed meant little to Deke, so one nod would’ve had him preemptively picking off the rowdier customers with the laz-gun. He was nearly as large as Cade, with dark hair that he never bothered to cut or clean, anymore. It fell over his face, his watchful blue eyes peering between the matted strands.
Cade gave his head a shake. Hopefully, no one would have to die tonight. The Westins’ standing in the polis was already dismal. Too much more bloodshed and they’d be run out of Shadow-of-the-Gods for good. Not that Cade particularly wanted his family to stay here, but they had nowhere else to go.
The woman’s attention stayed on the youngest Westin brother. “Shadow-of-the-Gods?” She repeated, frowning at Jacobi. “Where’s that?”
The question didn’t make any sense. Not even to Jacobi, who’d always been the best student of their grandmother’s language. “Um… It’s here. Or there, actually.” He pointed to the window on the far wall.
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