The Cowboy's Last Goodbye (Grass Valley Cowboys Book 6)

by Shanna Hatfield

  A few miles later, he heard a loud pop and the bike swerved as the back tire blew.

  Quickly bringing the bike under control, he stopped on the side of the road.

  He removed his helmet and gloves then dug his cell phone out of pocket. The lack of bars indicating available service made him expel an exasperated breath. With all the advances in technology, he couldn’t see any reason for this particular stretch of road to be beyond the reach of any cell phone towers.

  “Perfect. This is just absolutely perfect,” he grumbled contemptuously. If he’d known he’d end up stuck on a deserted dusty road in the summer heat, he would have stayed at his folks’ house. It was torturous to be there, but at least it had air conditioning.

  He couldn’t call for help, it was several miles to the nearest house, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a flat tire after enduring hours of family time.

  Frustrated, he jerked off the protective leather jacket he wore and tossed it over the seat before hunkering down to inspect the damage.

  Three large nails poked out of the tire. He had a repair kit in the tools he carried with him, but he needed more than glue and a patch. What he needed was a new tire.

  Unless benevolent fairies had inhabited the Grass Valley area unbeknownst to him and could make one appear out of thin air, he was out of luck. He walked back several yards, picking up half a dozen nails. At least no one else would blow a tire from the nails.

  Returning to his bike, he dumped the nails into his bag. Mad and perspiring, Ben yanked off his T-shirt and used it to mop the sweat from his face as he considered his limited options.

  A sound drew his gaze in the direction he’d been riding before the tire blew. Dust drifted around a pickup as it bounced over the rutted road, headed his direction.

  He leaned against his bike and watched as the pickup rolled to a stop. Once the dust cleared, the door opened and he could see shapely tan legs before the rest of a female appeared.

  Ben swallowed hard as he took in the beautiful woman from the top of her head to the toes of her red sneakers.

  The red and white striped cotton blouse and cut-off shorts she wore accented her curves, exuding a definite sexy girl-next-door vibe. Sunlight played in shimmering waves through her blond bobbed hair. Big cobalt eyes put him in mind of the shiny metallic blue stickers his mom used to give him when he was a kid and completed all his chores without any fuss.

  With the slightest sway to her hips, she approached him. One arched eyebrow lifted as she offered him a curious glance.

  “You look like you could use a lift. I can give you a ride into town.”

  Left speechless by the impact her voice had on his rapidly overloading senses, Ben numbly nodded his head in agreement.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing he’d broken down.

  Chapter Two

  A man never knows how to say goodbye;

  a woman never knows when to say it.

  Helen Rowland

  Surprised she could force words out of her mouth after spying the handsome guy stranded on the side of the road, Harper Hayes had no idea what possessed her to offer a stranger a ride.

  Pure stupidity.

  That had to be the reason she’d stopped to give the good-looking man a lift. He could be a con artist, a thief, or some kind of sick pervert.

  For all she knew, he could be flashing that six-pack of abs and chiseled chin to make her the next victim in a string of yet undiscovered murders by a psycho serial killer.

  Then again, Harper seriously doubted a serial killer would hunt for unsuspecting women on dusty dirt roads that very few people traveled and even fewer women inhabited.

  Before she fully regained the ability to own a rational thought, she observed the man, starting with his thick, short dark hair. Eyes the color of magnolia leaves in the autumn — brown with a slightly inviting sheen — made her want to take a step closer to him.

  In all her twenty-eight years of living, she’d never seen a guy with such a full bottom lip, one just made for enticing kisses out of entranced women.

  For a moment, she indulged in thoroughly ogling his broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and muscled arms. Eventually, she forced her gaze back to his face.

  And it was such an incredibly attractive face, too.

  Mortified by the wayward thoughts swirling around in her head, heat stung her cheeks as she stepped away from him. Away from temptation.

  “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around here before.” His deep voice flowed over her like a welcome breeze on a sultry summer afternoon.

  Mercy!

  She was in trouble where that six-feet-plus-something of hunky biker was concerned. The last thing she needed in her complicated life was another man, especially one who appeared so virile and strong.

  Nervous and ill at ease, she took another step back.

  As though he sensed her concern, he offered her a reassuring look.

  “I’m Ben Morgan. My family owns the Running M Ranch in Grass Valley.” He leaned forward and held out his hand with a charismatic grin.

  Before their hands connected, a blur of brown fur shot between the two of them. A dog planted himself next to her feet, growling at Ben.

  “Whoa!” Startled, Ben stepped back and raised his hands in the air. “No worries. I’ll give you some breathing room.”

  “General, stand down,” Harper commanded. She placed a gentle hand on the dog’s head. He stopped growling and relaxed his stiff posture.

  “General, is it?” Ben asked, squatting down, but turning his face away from the dog. He intentionally ignored the animal, exhibiting behavior that would let the canine know he wasn’t a threat.

  “He’s a little protective.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” Ben said, purposely giving the canine plenty of space. “I appreciate you stopping. My bike blew a tire and I wasn’t looking forward to hiking back to the road. By any chance, do you have cell service out here?”

  Harper laughed. “No, I don’t. That’s a luxury for those who don’t live in the smack dab middle of nowhere.”

  Ben smiled. “I wouldn’t call this ‘nowhere.’ That’s about a hundred miles to the south and east, where my brother lives.”

  “Sherman County isn’t exactly filled with booming cities and a metropolis atmosphere.” She shared the observation as she continued rubbing a hand over the dog’s head.

  “No, it’s not. That’s one of the things that I like about it.” Ben was surprised to hear himself say that. Since he graduated from high school, he’d put a considerable amount of time and effort into distancing himself from the place where he grew up.

  Sure, he still came home to help when his dad needed it. But he didn’t plan to return permanently, especially not with the family overload he got whenever he visited. Even so, he liked the slower pace of life, the friendliness of the people, and the clean fresh air he could breathe at home versus the noise, crowds, and smog of the city.

  “I like it, too,” Harper said, tipping her head to the side to look at Ben’s motorcycle. “I don’t think there’s any hope for your tire. Why don’t we load your bike in the truck and I can take you into Moro or run you home.”

  Ben nodded his head, grateful she would give him a ride. He noticed the dog inching closer to him, so he remained unmoving.

  It sniffed around him then flopped down in the dirt with a grunt.

  “Did I pass inspection, General?” Ben asked with a grin.

  Harper glanced at the dog. “If you hadn’t, he’d have taken a piece out of you by now.” She waved a hand toward the back of her pickup. “Come on, let’s load your bike.”

  Ben rose to his feet and pushed the bike to the back of her pickup. With her help, he hoisted it up.

  Harper stood to the side and admired his muscles as he worked to secure the motorcycle. A guy that attractive was no doubt married, maybe even a father.

  Thoughts that he might belong to someone else made her drop her gaze and walk around to
the driver’s door of the pickup. In the truck’s side mirror, she caught a reflection of Ben yanking on a T-shirt he took from a bag strapped to the bike.

  Feverish from heat that had nothing to do with the summer day, she felt lightheaded.

  Pleasant, cool air enveloped her as she opened the pickup door and turned to the dog. “General, time to load up.”

  The canine stood and shook himself then leaped into the pickup cab and jumped into the backseat.

  “Good boy, Gen.” Harper climbed behind the wheel and fastened her seatbelt while Ben opened the passenger door and slid inside.

  He gave her an inquisitive look as she turned up the air conditioning.

  Uncomfortable under his mesmerizing gaze, she suddenly realized she never gave him her name, and held out her hand. “Harper Hayes.”

  When he took it in his, a jolt like she’d grabbed onto Uncle Cletus’ electric fence shot up her arm and zinged outward from there.

  Quickly — almost too quickly, he dropped her hand. The startled look on his face caused her to assume he experienced a similar reaction.

  Deliberately ignoring whatever sparked between them by mutual unspoken agreement, she put the truck in gear.

  Ben glanced back at the dog that suspiciously watched him then stared out the windshield.

  With a slow, easy grin, he looked over at his rescuer again as they bounced down the road. “So, what are you doing out here?”

  “My uncle lives a few miles that way.” Harper pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “I was on my way to The Dalles to do some shopping. There’s less rutted road to endure if I drive through Moro rather than traveling all the way to Rufus to reach the freeway.”

  She kicked the air conditioner up another notch. The cab felt stifling with the heat pulsing off Ben and penetrating her entire being.

  “If you don’t mind letting me ride along, I can get a new tire in The Dalles and head on home.”

  “Home? I thought you said you lived in Grass Valley on a ranch.” Harper’s alert system threw up a red flag.

  Regardless of how handsome he was or how good he smelled, the guy was already mixing up his stories. Maybe he really was a serial killer on the loose.

  She slowed down, ready to tell him to get out.

  “Grass Valley is where my parents have a ranch. I live in Portland. I’ve been helping my dad this week, but I have to be back at work tomorrow.”

  Still wary, Harper gave him a long, calculating look. “Who did you say your parents are?” His gorgeous smile had overshadowed the introduction he’d offered. The incredible body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine had left her undeniably distracted.

  All she’d managed to catch was that his first name was Ben.

  “Mike and Michele Morgan of the Running M Ranch. The place has been in our family for a while.”

  “Is your mother friends with Denni Hammond?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Best friends. Those two think up more ways to torture me with their supposedly helpful suggestions than anyone should have to endure.”

  Harper grinned. “I’ve met them both at the Renegade gas station. Don’t you think Denni’s husband looks just like Jon Bon Jovi?”

  Chuckles rolled out of Ben. “Everyone says that. My sister and Denni’s other daughters-in-law had quite a crush on him when he first moved to the area.”

  “I can see why. He’s a very handsome man,” Harper said. The man sitting in her pickup held a far greater deal of appeal to her, but she’d never admit that aloud. “Denni and your mom seem full of fun.”

  “For the most part they are fun, when they aren’t plotting and scheming ways to improve the lives of their children.”

  A moment of silence followed. Harper covertly studied Ben’s strong profile and noticed a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, like it had been broken at some point. Beyond that, he was rugged male perfection.

  Disconcerted by her attraction to a complete stranger, she stared out the windshield. “Where do you work?”

  “I’m a captain with Filer River Transportation. We take barges full of cargo up and down the Columbia River.”

  “I’ve seen the barges loaded with grain. Those things are huge.”

  “Yeah, they are.”

  “And you captain the tugs that push them from one port to another?” Harper slowed as they approached the stop sign to turn toward the town of Moro on Highway 97.

  “That’s right. I’ve been a captain for six years. Prior to that, I worked on tugs and barges as a deckhand.” Ben studied her with a probing glance. “You mentioned your uncle. Who’s that?”

  He tried to think of anyone he knew in the area who had a beautiful niece he’d never met. No one came to mind.

  “Cletus Keller. He’s actually my great-uncle, and he’s also a pretty great uncle.” Amused with herself, Harper grinned. “I used to spend summers with him when I was a kid, and here I am, back where I started.”

  “Have you been back long?” Ben asked, wondering how he’d never met Harper Hayes. Cletus was a cantankerous old coot who stayed to himself for the most part, so that was most likely the reason.

  Ben would never have connected the crusty rancher to the woman who put him in mind of some mythical pixie and smelled like wild, exotic flowers.

  “Just two weeks. My uncle had his hip replaced and can’t quite make it on his own. With no other family to care for him, I volunteered for the job.” Harper offered him a conspiratorial wink. “Just between us, I think Uncle Cletus scheduled the surgery for this summer on purpose, so I’d come stay with him.”

  Ben chuckled again to hide how much he wanted to kiss her. That teasing wink had nearly done him in. “I’ve met your uncle. He doesn’t seem like the type to go to any trouble to have company at his house.”

  Harper giggled. “Uncle Cletus can be a bit standoffish, but he’s always been good to me.”

  The dog grunted from the backseat, so Ben gave him a quick glimpse before turning back to Harper. “What’s type of dog is that? At first, I thought he was a German shepherd, but he’s got a slighter frame and his head looks a little different.”

  “That’s because he’s a Belgian Malinois. People often confuse the two, but General’s breed is typically more refined-looking than the German shepherd. His ears are smaller, more triangular.”

  As though he sensed the conversation was about him, General cocked his ears and looked from Harper to Ben.

  Ben watched the dog out of the corner of his eye, glad to see the canine appeared relaxed. “He seems very intelligent and well trained. Was he a military dog?”

  “Yeah, he was. I’ve had him for two years.” Harper’s smile faded. She glanced out the side window in an effort to hide the ache dredged up by memories.

  “How’d he come to live with you? They don’t let just anyone have one of those dogs.”

  Harper swallowed hard and blinked back tears. “He was my brother’s dog. Ryan and General worked as a team to find improvised explosive devises in Afghanistan. They had a good run together until a sniper shot Ryan. He collapsed on top of an IED and General sustained massive injuries in the blast. When Ryan’s unit arrived, General was guarding what was left of the body even though he had a hole in his chest and couldn’t walk.”

  She sniffled and blinked, trying to get control of her emotions. The agony of losing her only sibling hit her with fresh onslaughts of pain every time she talked about Ryan. “When it was clear that General wouldn’t be able to return to service, I begged to adopt him. It’s like I got to keep a little bit of my brother by having him with me.”

  General whined and licked Harper’s arm. She gave him a watery smile before returning her attention to the road.

  Much to her surprise, Ben reached over and took her hand in his, gently squeezing it. The compassionate gesture was both comforting and disturbing as heat sizzled between their hands.

  “One of my good friends, who also happens to be my brother-in-law, had a
hard time when he came back from Iraq. From the few stories he’s shared and the scars I’ve seen, we’re lucky he made it out alive. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  Harper could hear the genuineness in Ben’s voice and nodded her head in appreciation. In need of a distraction, she glanced in the rearview mirror at his bike.

  “So, Captain Morgan, how is it you ended up on our awful, bumpy road with a blown tire?”

  “I sometimes take that road to Rufus, if I’m not in hurry to get home. Three nails put an effective end to my ride today. If you hadn’t happened along, I’d have been in big trouble.”

  “I get the idea trouble probably stays close to you.” Harper gave him a long glance, somewhat dazzled by the muscular man riding in her truck.

  Ben smirked. “I’d be entirely insulted, Miss Hayes, if that wasn’t true.”

  Harper laughed and they settled into an easy conversation, discussing people and places they both knew on the way to The Dalles.

  From what Harper shared, he got the idea she was the girl Denni and his mother had raved about for a good twenty minutes during lunch. He hadn’t paid any attention, letting them all think he was still dating Laurie. It was much easier on him when the meddling females in his family didn’t know he was currently available.

  Experience made him cautious of admitting he wasn’t in a relationship. His mother, sister, and all the Thompson women made it their mission to employ matchmaking tactics that would make the most desperate bride-hunters cringe.

  Once Harper pulled off the freeway and parked at the tire store, Ben realized he’d enjoyed talking with the lovely woman. She didn’t act interested in him in the least, which was both refreshing and a bit troubling.

  Most women gave Ben a second glance, many offered him their phone number, and a few were bold enough to ask him out on a date or whisper propositions he’d rather not hear.

  However, Harper acted more like a buddy or friend than a woman who might like to see him again. It was probably for the best, anyway. He highly doubted he’d run into her again, even if she spent the entire summer with her uncle.

  After two of the tire store employees unloaded his bike, Ben stepped up to Harper’s pickup door. She rolled down the window and smiled at him.