Midnight in Montana 1
Dallas at Midnight
While on the run from slime ball millionaire, Ed Powell, Dallas Somerville finds herself sleeping rough in the barn of near-bankrupt rancher, Shane Patrick. She soon finds herself falling in love with the handsome cowboy and makes friends with his family, who come to stay. She also loves the people and way of life in Midnight, Montana and doesn’t want to leave.
When Shane’s sister-in-law hears Dallas sing, she suggests a way of fulfilling the young girl's dream and helping save the ranch at the same time.
Just as Dallas’s future seems hopeful, her past catches up with her, and she is kidnapped by Powell’s men. While fighting for her life in the evil clutches of the money-laundering crooks, Dallas is empowered by her love for the gorgeous cowboy, and the chance of another life…the one which she already feels growing inside her…
Genre: Contemporary, Western/Cowboys
Length: 36,894 words
DALLAS AT MIDNIGHT
Midnight in Montana 1
Bella Settarra
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at
[email protected]
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
DALLAS AT MIDNIGHT
Copyright © 2014 by Bella Settarra
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-348-2
First E-book Publication: September 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Dallas at Midnight by Bella Settarra from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Bella Settarra’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Bella Settarra’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
Writing a Cowboy Romance is a pleasure as well as a challenge – especially for a Brit, like me. Although I desperately wanted to give it a try I was also very nervous and concerned at how it might be perceived. I was very much encouraged, however, by the enthusiasm of some of my fellow authors who convinced me that, with a little help – and a whole lot of research – anything is achievable. My main concern was my own lack of experience with cowboys – we don’t have ranches in Britain (although I do live on a farm) – but then it was pointed out to me that authors write Sci Fi stories without going into space, vampire stories without ever meeting one, or even polyamory stories without ever trying it (unless they’re very lucky;)). Fiction writing is all down to imagination, after all.
I have a massive respect for the Americans and the Western way of life, and have carried out a lot of research, and contacted people in the lifestyle, in order to portray my characters in an appropriate manner, while still maintaining the fictional elements needed to make a good romantic story. I sincerely hope that I have achieved this and apologize for any inaccuracies which I may have inadvertently conveyed.
I would like to acknowledge the kindness of everyone who has helped me along the way. In particular I would like to thank Reece Butler, a brilliant American author, who kindly filled me in with details of her time working on a ranch in Montana, and pointed me in the right direction to get all the information I needed to make my setting and characters plausible and authentic (I hope).
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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
About the Author
DALLAS AT MIDNIGHT
Midnight in Montana 1
BELLA SETTARRA
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
Through the driving rain, Dallas could make out a sign, “Welcome to Midnight,” on the side of the muddy road. She grimaced, imagining it probably was around midnight, but she sure didn’t feel very welcome. She felt sore and frozen to the bone. She was soaking wet and her jeans and T-shirt sucked at her skin like hungry leeches. Her mind drifted momentarily at the thought of hungry leeches. Those bastards she’d left behind weren’t just hungry—they were greedy bloodsuckers! She instinctively turned around but there was no one following her. Not yet.
She sniffed and carried on walking. She must have covered a mile or so since that guy in the massive truck had dropped her off. He told her that if she kept walking in this direction she would come to a small town which had a hotel where she might get a room for the night. Yeah, right. Like he hadn’t noticed I had no money? She kept walking, though, as there was nothing else to do. Another sign appeared just ahead of her, and she was aware of the mountains looming in the background. She wiped her eyes to read the sign, promising herself it was only rain, not tears, which blurred her vision. “Moonlight Hollow.”
Traipsing down what appeared to be the main street of the little town, she noticed it was lined with shops, dimly lit by street lamps. Water poured from a broken gutter above the hardware store, and she managed a faint grin at the irony. To one side of this store she saw a small office with the lights on. Midnight County Sheriff was neatly printed
on a sign above the door. Dallas gulped. She heard movement inside, and, worried that someone was nearing the exit, she rushed back to the side of the hardware store to hide. A dark alley ran down the side of the building, so she took a chance and followed it.
Water dripped from the rooftop and darted like icy fingers down the back of her neck. She shuddered and kept on walking. She knew she had blisters on both feet, and her ancient Justin Ropers were doing very little to keep her dry, but she plodded on as best she could. Thankfully, the alley opened out at the bottom and she found herself on a dirt track which led up toward a ranch. The wind blustered around her, tormenting her chilled body, but she felt a slight lurch of hope in her stomach. Defiantly she strode up between two soggy fields, until she saw a dark mass at one end. Her heart leaped and she rushed toward the rusty walls of an old steel barn. The rain made a loud din on the roof and walls, but there was hay inside and toward the back it was quite dry. It smelled of animals but there were none to be seen, so she found a thick stack and threw herself onto it.
* * * *
Shane Patrick peered out of the window of his run-down ranch house. He didn’t need the woman on the TV to tell him it had been a wet and windy night. The puddle on the kitchen floor where a tile had been blown off the roof told him that much. He sighed. If this place didn’t start making money soon he would seriously have to think about selling up—and there was no way in hell he wanted to do that! No siree! This place had belonged to his family for generations and he was danged if he was going to see it fall into the sweaty palms of some money-grabbing developer. He took a final swig of his coffee, turned off the TV and grabbed his hat.
“Hi. We’re expecting an early delivery of hay this morning,” Shane called over as he saw Dylan Murphy and Jake Johnson emerging from the bunk house. They were the only members of the staff who lived onsite, as the ranch was close enough to town for anyone to commute if they had a home to go to.
“Morning, boss. There’s not much room in the top barn, but we can squeeze some into the old one at the top of that field,” Dylan replied, pointing.
It was only just getting light, but the sun already glinted off the metal roof of the barn. Shane nodded. It wasn’t far to walk down to the old shelter, but they took one of the trucks just in case they needed it to move some of the hay.
The steel barn didn’t have any covering at the front, so most of the hay was usually piled toward the back to keep it dry.
“If we pile these bales on top of the ones over there we can get the new stuff in easier,” Shane directed, pulling his gloves from his back pocket.
They started to move the hefty bales, forming a high wall lining the back of the shelter.
“What the…?” Shane gasped as he caught sight of something nestled in the far corner. “Wait!” he yelled, just as Dylan prepared to toss a bale in that direction.
Dylan dropped the bale to the ground. “What is it, boss?” The ginger-haired guy walked slowly over to where Shane had leaped onto the pile of hay.
Shane had seen a mass of dark, wavy hair on the hay and, at first, assumed it was an animal taking harborage. As he neared it, however, he realized that it was a person—a girl. She wasn’t moving and his heart pounded hard against his ribs as he wondered whether she was actually alive or not. She was huddled in a tight ball, with hay half covering her body. Shane placed a hand on her back, noticing that she was drenched and shivering. He smoothed some hair away from her soft face and saw her beauty shining through. Her lips were pale, almost blue, and he wasted no time in hauling off his coat and wrapping it around her tiny, wet body.
“Bring the truck over,” Shane called, as he bundled her up in his muscular arms and climbed down the bales.
Jake drove the pick-up into the barn, as near as he could to where Shane was carrying the sleeping beauty toward him. Shane jumped in, holding her close to his body while Jake quickly drove them back to the house.
“Call the doctor, tell him it’s urgent. I’ll get her in the warm,” Shane instructed as he let them in.
While Jake rushed into the kitchen to use the phone, Shane took the girl into the guest bedroom. He pulled off her boots, noticing that the soles had come apart in several places, and yanked off her sodden socks. Without a thought of her modesty, he peeled the jeans down her frozen legs, taking her panties with them. He quickly divested her of the T-shirt which was stuck like glue to her upper half, and swiftly undid the little lacy bra. He took a towel from the pile on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and briskly rubbed her cold body dry before wrapping her up in a big, thick robe and tucking her into the bed. Her dark waves splayed across the crisp, white pillow, and he gently rubbed her face and hair with a small guest towel.
“Doc Baron’s here, boss,” Jake announced from the doorway, as he let the elderly man into the room. “I’ll get back and help Dylan with that delivery if you don’t need me, sir?”
“Great. Thanks, Jake.”
“Looks like hypothermia. She’ll be lucky if it’s not pneumonia,” Dr. Baron grumbled as he examined the girl. “She must have been out all night.”
Shane sighed. “I wish she’d just knocked on the door,” he murmured. “Do you know her, Doc? I’ve never seen her before.”
“No, son.” The white-haired doctor shook his head. “She got any ID on her?”
“I hadn’t thought to check,” Shane admitted as he picked up the soaking wet jeans from the floor. He delved into the pockets, but there was nothing but a soggy cotton handkerchief there. “Nothing here,” he said with a disappointed sigh.
“You’d best keep her here. Her breathing’s a bit shallow but it’s getting better. She needs to be kept warm. I’ll call back in a few hours when I’ve finished my rounds. You’ve got my number if you need anything.” With that the doctor packed up his equipment and headed for the door. “I’ll see myself out. She should be waking up before too long. Good job you found her when you did.”
Shane heard the slam of the front door as he peered into the lovely face of the woman in his guest bed. Her lips weren’t looking blue now, and her face had a slight sheen of color which hadn’t been there before. Thank goodness! His heart hammered in his chest as the responsibility of the unconscious stranger weighed heavily on him. He was relieved that the doctor hadn’t carted her off to the hospital—he was secretly looking forward to getting to know her—but he still felt worried about looking after her himself. He would have liked to hold her hand, just to feel her skin, but her whole body was tucked up warmly under the covers, right up to her neck. He stroked her face. It was like porcelain, cool and soft and so very pale. With hair as dark as hers he was sure she usually had more color than this, and he couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t knocked on his door last night. He would have welcomed her and kept her warm and dry—and safe. He suddenly thought of all the dangers which were lurking out there at night. The doctor had said she had blisters all over her feet and must have walked a long way. How far has she come? Why?
With a sigh, Shane took her wet things and went to fetch himself a coffee. He threw her clothes into the washer with some of his own laundry and set it to wash. Looking around the house he began to wonder what she would make of it. It wasn’t even fully furnished. A lot of the furniture had been sold after his parents had died two years ago. He had needed the money to pay bills, and knew he wouldn’t be entertaining guests here, so he had no need of a load of extra chairs and cabinets. Now he saw how sparse it looked. He had never thought it mattered as he only lived here by himself, except for one brief relationship a while back, and rarely had visitors. He shook his head, irritated with himself for even thinking any of it mattered. It wasn’t as if the girl would be staying for any length of time. As soon as she woke up and told him who she was he could call her folks or her boyfriend or whatever and they’d come and take her home. A cold feeling sank to the pit of his stomach, which surprised him. He hadn’t even met the girl really, and already he didn’t want her to leave. How pathetic
am I?
Shane was pouring himself yet another cup of coffee when he heard a sound from the bedroom. He left the cup on the counter and quickly went to investigate. He’d left the guest room door open and he could hear quiet murmurs. Rushing to the bed he perched at the young girl’s side. Her eyes were flickering, her long lashes fluttering gently. Her mouth was slightly open and she was murmuring or moaning something incoherent.
“It’s all right, darlin’, you’re safe,” he said softly, running the back of his finger down her cheek. Her skin felt slightly warmer now. “Shh,” he soothed gently.
As if hearing his voice, she stilled a little and then opened her eyes. They were large and bright green as they stared at him. Her look of confusion gave way to one of terror and she gasped as she quickly took in her surroundings.
“It’s OK. You’re safe. My name’s Shane Patrick. I found you in my barn.” He wasn’t sure whether he was overloading her with information or calming her by speaking to her. She frowned and tried to sit up.
“You stay right there, darlin’. You need to keep warm.” His voice was sterner than he had intended, but it stopped her in her tracks and she immediately lay down again.
“Would you like some water?” He poured her a glass from the carafe on the night stand, and then realized that she may not even understand him. He lifted her head slightly with one hand while he held the glass to her lips. “Small sips, now,” he urged.
She drank some water and then nodded to signal that she had finished. He gently laid her head back on the soft pillow before placing the glass on the table.
Dallas at Midnight [Midnight in Montana 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 1
