Roping the Daddy: A Contemporary Western Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 3)

by Tori Kayson

  ROPING

  THE DADDY

  Kester Ranch Cowboys series

  Book 3

  Tori Kayson

  ROPING

  THE DADDY

  © 2016 Tori Kayson

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events or locales is coincidental.

  Roping the Daddy

  Copyright 2016 by Tori Kayson

  Published by Grace Legacy Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any way without written permission from Tori Kayson or Grace Legacy Publishing, except for including brief quotations in reviews along with proper acknowledgement. eBook editions may not be copied, resold or given away. Please purchase your own copy and share only the title with your friends and family, not the actual eBook.

  Contact information: ToriKayson@gmail.com

  Cover art by: VikNCharlie

  Publishing History:

  First Grace Legacy Publishing Edition 2016

  Electronic Edition ISBN: 978-0-9967922-6-4

  Dedication

  To My Real Life Hero

  How is it possible to love you more every day?

  To Shelley Wilburn

  Gifted writer. Blessed critique partner. Treasured friend.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Preview of Roping the Cowboy

  About the Author

  1

  “That went over well, don’t you think?”

  Kierra Kester cringed at the sarcasm in her brother’s deep voice and peered into the house.

  Crocodile skin boots disappeared onto the second floor landing. She tracked Sterling Winsome, editor for Amazing West magazine, as he headed down the hall to his assigned room.

  The man surely couldn’t have heard Fargo, could he? Kester Ranch needed the publicity and this feature would not only bring in new clients, but also catapult them into premier destination status.

  The screen door slammed as she stalked back to face her clueless brother. Fargo hadn’t been thrilled with their idea of turning the ranch into a special events venue, but the income boost from this venture had allowed them to cover the last balloon payment. The one that had loomed large and ominous like an approaching winter storm since their father’s unexpected passing. They could all finally breathe easy again. For a few months, at least. Until the next one.

  She crossed her arms. “Better than I expected, but sheesh, could you hold it down a little? Your voice carries.”

  Her older brother’s lips flattened, but he must’ve picked up on the hint of venom in her tone because he nodded.

  Nerves tightened and bunched in her belly. Fargo wasn’t the only Kester who had worked long hours to pull the ranch out of debt. “Fargo, I know you’re not thrilled with the whole situation, but please don’t wreck this week for us. Mom and I have worked just as hard as you to keep this ranch.” She huffed. Since opening to guests, they’d hunched over stacks of dirty dishes, loaded countless carts with groceries, and been buried under mountains of soiled linens. But even before then, they’d logged long days and nights in the kitchen, testing and tweaking recipes, and formulating menus.

  Fargo might not approve of their idea to promote the ranch as a premier destination, but surely he wouldn’t sabotage the roundup? Not when they had so much invested. Time. Money. And a lifetime of dreams hinged on the possibility of Sterling Winsome’s magazine feature.

  The stubborn man’s jaw softened fractionally. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that he seems…”

  “Full of himself?” Kierra’s hands quivered as she picked up the tablet and mug from where she’d quickly stashed them on the porch rail upon Sterling’s arrival. Nerves, but she’d get over them. For weeks she’d prepped for the editor’s arrival, researching articles from past magazines and scouring the Internet for the man’s likes and dislikes. Even down to the particular soap he used because of his allergies. Every detail recorded on her trusty tablet. She was ready.

  Clutching the tablet to her chest, she hiked a leg over the slumbering Australian Koolie duo to settle on the swing next to her brother. Coffee sloshed onto her hand.

  “Oops.” She held out the tablet, not worried about burning herself. The java was lukewarm by now.

  Fargo took the cup from her and held it until she situated herself. “You all right?”

  She shouldn’t be so hard on him. He was only looking out for her, always the protective older brother. She dried her hand on her jeans and set the mug on the side table. “I will be. Thanks.”

  Worry etched twin furrows between Fargo’s brows. His marriage to Darby might have added a bounce to his steps, but as the eldest Kester sibling, he always worried about the ranch. As if it was his sole responsibility.

  She touched his sleeve. “Relax, Fargo. We made the last payment, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. We’re all in this together. We’ll make this work. You’ll see.”

  He rubbed his face. When his hand came away, his dimples flashed. “I know we will because you’re the best events planner in Texas. But, Kierra, you and Mom don’t need to—”

  “It’s all right, Fargo. Really. I can deal with Winsome for a week.” Or longer, if necessary. He might be full of himself, but he wasn’t bad to look at. Even in the sports jacket and crazy expensive boots.

  Fargo’s chin hitched, and he glared at the door. “Maybe, but he better not order you and Mom around like lackeys—”

  “How about we go over the details?” She powered on the tablet, hoping to stave off her brother’s usual tirade about the ranch overflowing with too many people…

  People who have no business being here.

  Since she rarely ventured into town, she didn’t mind the company. But Fargo loathed the extra people at the ranch. And he conveniently forgot that’s how he met his wife.

  “—and he needs to ditch the jacket.”

  “True.”

  “And those ridiculous boots. He’ll be suing us the first time he steps in—”

  “I sent everyone the list of what to pack, brother dear. If he disregards, that’s his choice.”

  Fargo arched a thick eyebrow.

  The all-white feline stray she’d adopted a few years ago wandered up on the porch. One green and one blue eye took in a lazy sweep of the scene before Sassy hopped on Kierra’s lap.

  Anticipating the move, Kierra lifted the tablet to her chest, but Fargo jerked back. “Man, that cat freaks me out.”

  She chuckled. Probably why she loved the cat so much. For the entertainment factor.

  “So, how many hands will be going with us?” she asked, moving the animal so she could make notes on the tablet. They spent the next few minutes hammering out details for the mock cattle round up and
drive to promote the ranch.

  “Forgot to mention that I hired a chopper cowboy.” Fargo scraped his whiskered jaw.

  “Really? That’s awesome! A chopper will certainly help.” She tapped in more notes.

  “Yeah. The chopper can chase some of those stubborn calves out of the woods. And he’s especially valuable.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Not just a pilot. He’s also an EMT and a cook.”

  “A cook?” Her voice squeaked. How could her brother forget to tell her something so newsworthy?

  “Figured you’d be happy about that.”

  Why did he emphasize ‘that?’ Like she wouldn’t be happy about something else? She tipped her head in his direction, but he gazed at the pasture.

  “Letting me off the hook feeding this crowd? Happy doesn’t do it justice. I’m thrilled! Ecstatic!” Smiling, she keyed in more notes. A cook and a medic on hand for emergencies? Wow! A three-for-one. Score!

  “He’s staying in the shed tonight,” Fargo said.

  “The shed?” Surprised, she lifted her head from the tablet, but again her brother didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Yeah. He can’t move into his new place until we get back. I figured he could stay there since Uncle Chips is out on the range right now and the house will be full.”

  She chewed her lip. “Makes sense, I guess. But it’s kind of weird, somebody else staying in it.” The converted hen house had been Uncle Chips’ place since he moved here, homeless and broken when she’d been just a kid. Now their foreman, her uncle had really turned his life around, and she couldn’t imagine the ranch without him.

  But then, a couple years ago, she never would’ve imagined the ranch without her father. Or life in general.

  A fresh wave of sorrow rose up, but she refused to give in to the painful sting in her eyes even for a minute. She could flip through the old photo albums or rummage in the cedar box of Dad’s things later. After the roundup. After they earned the bulk of the last balloon payment due on their loan.

  Fargo scoffed. “Not any weirder than a bunch of people we don’t know staying in our house.”

  “You keep forgetting that you have your own house now.” Smiling, she tipped her head toward Fargo’s house, tucked in the trees so deep most people wouldn’t notice it was there.

  No response. Not even a crack of a smile.

  She shook her head, trailing her brother’s gaze to the pasture where his horse munched fresh grass.

  The October air was still and warm, almost stagnant. Sassy’s purr competed with the soft snores of the hounds and Fargo’s sudden loud gulp, as if he swallowed something huge. He tugged the hat off his head and rammed fingers through his short hair. Tugged at his collar.

  What was bothering him now?

  She sipped the coffee, studying her brother over the rim of the mug. Probably just anxious that the ranch would be inundated with people before sunset.

  The coffee warmed her, nervousness and grief giving way to excitement. Looked like they had all their bases covered for the big event, and now this good news of a helicopter cowboy. Sterling would surely be impressed with such detail.

  Goosebumps of pleasure prickled her skin. The magazine feature would lure even more people to the ranch, jamming their calendar with reservations for weddings, reunions, and corporate retreats. Their ranch would become known as a premiere destination.

  Dreams did come true! She sighed, contentment bubbling up on her arms.

  “So big brother, how’d you nab a chopper cowboy, an EMT, and a cook? I thought we’d hired all of the available cowboys around Coldwater Ridge.”

  Sassy wandered onto Fargo’s lap, but her brother immediately shooed the cat off the swing.

  She grinned. “What’d you do? Call in a favor from your buddy in Montana?”

  “Yeah, um. About that…” Fargo’s mouth twitched but nothing came out. Finally, he cleared his throat and clamped his jaw. Rubbed a stain on his jeans.

  One of the dogs lifted his head, ears alert. The other barked and bounced up on all fours, legs scrambling to gain traction. Both dogs raced down the steps, paws thundering.

  A chopper’s blades thwopped from over the crest, coming closer.

  “That must be him now.” She set her tablet on the table and jumped up.

  “Kierra…” Fargo’s voice stopped her at the top of the stairs.

  “For doing such an awesome job snagging this cowboy, you’re moving awful slow. You coming?”

  His mouth opened and closed again. Huffing, he slid his hat low over his face and hauled himself from the swing. “Yeah. I’m coming.” He muttered something she didn’t understand, but followed her to the middle of the yard.

  She pressed a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the dirt and debris the chopper kicked up. It circled a couple times, and then lowered to land in a vacant spot near the barn. The rotors slowed then finally stopped spinning, and the chopper went silent.

  “Kierra.” Fargo tugged at her arm. “About the new hand—”

  She twisted to look at her brother, impatience moving her legs toward the chopper like a magnet. “It can wait, can’t it? I’d like to meet this cowboy. He’s an angel, sent to rescue me from cooking for this crowd.” Relief gushed through her limbs. She could handle her own in the kitchen, but out on the range? Another hand to help would certainly fill in the gaps. “This cowboy better watch out. I’m so happy I just might kiss him!”

  Alarm flashed across Fargo’s face. Comical.

  Laughing, she turned around and caught sight of the pilot as he exited the chopper. Hair the color of freshly ground nutmeg. Cropped tight on the sides and longer on the top but flattened from the headgear. Heavy stubble shadowed firm jaws.

  Hawk?

  No. It couldn’t be, right? Belly clenching, her steps lagged and she rammed a fist against her gaping mouth. No way! Not when she’d finally gotten to a point in her life where a few days passed without thinking of her high school sweetheart. Of what he’d done. Where he was now.

  If his son looked like him.

  Stop it! Her mind was only playing tricks from the worry and sleepless nights. Stiffening her spine, she braved another glance.

  The cowboy sported a lean runner’s build, not an ounce of fat. Denims covered long, muscular legs. Real boots, the kind cowboys who knew their way around a ranch wore, dusty and scuffed and lived in, moved with easy grace across the grass. Sunglasses hid the silver eyes she suspected would be underneath.

  No! No! NO!

  “I’m sorry, Kierra,” Fargo said.

  “Sorry?” It was her turn to gulp. Her vision blurred and she lurched to a stop, wobbling on unsteady legs. Barely registered her brother’s fingers as they circled her arm, probably the only reason she still stood. Her jaw hung low, her heart pinching, aching. The smile contorted into a painful wince.

  It couldn’t be!

  “I tried to warn you.” Fargo’s breath heated her ear.

  The cowboy looked their way, flicked his hat once in acknowledgement then hustled to help a passenger disembark.

  Fury burned its way up her neck. How dare the man come back to Coldwater Ridge! And waltz onto their property no less! Her hands curled into fists. She stomped the ground.

  Angel? Had she called this cowboy an angel?

  Correction. The devil himself had just landed on their property.

  ****

  So much for second chances.

  Ouch. Hawk’s pulse tweaked at the horror on Kierra’s face. Hadn’t Fargo told her the news before now?

  He stowed the headgear and shoved a hand through his hair. His huff lost in the engine’s shutdown, Hawk unbuckled and stepped from the cab.

  Kierra. His high school sweetheart. The only woman who’d ever made him feel good about himself and his sketchy heritage. Who’d shown him what a real family looked like, how a real family acted toward one another. Who’d planted dreams of forever in his heart.

  That’s all they’d been, th
ough. Dreams. And for the last decade, that’s what he’d relegated her to…a dream.

  Hawk Rowe stole another hasty look. That’s all it took to make out the shock that held her legs hostage and posture rigid. Was Fargo holding her up? Or holding her in place to prevent her from launching an all-out attack?

  He jerked his gaze away. He deserved the attack. Maybe then, he could move on, leave her and all those fairytale delusions in the past.

  Hawk forced his rebellious legs into submission. Slow at first, but he picked up speed as he rounded to the passenger side of the chopper. Maybe if she caught a glimpse of Cody, she wouldn’t be so quick to order them off the property. Wishful thinking. One look at his nine-year-old son and that nightmarish evening would be staring her right in the face. He’d suspected that Kierra wouldn’t be happy to see him, but his new boss could have at least warned her before Hawk descended on their ranch and forced himself back into her life.

  “Wait for me, Cody.” Protection for his son? Or for himself?

  “Sure, Dad.”

  Hawk buried his head behind the seat, sifting through the belongings inside their packs. Stalling. All for another glance at the gal who’d never relinquished her iron grip on his heart.

  Even more beautiful than his memories. A few extra pounds fit her well, filled out all those skinny hollows. Her chest swelled with every angry breath, straining against a snowy white cotton shirt. Her tanned skin glowed, and thick, dark lashes framed coffee colored eyes. Expressive eyes that used to set his heart—and every other part of his body—on fire. But he was long past that hormonal phase.

  Becoming a teen parent kinda did that to a man. Made him wake up and realize what was important in life. What was lasting.

  And women didn’t belong in that category. Not Kierra. And definitely not Brigit, his ex-wife. Not even his mother.

  The early afternoon sun glinted from Kierra’s raven black hair, and he blinked. She seemed so fresh and pure. So clean compared to his dirty. So stable compared to his nomadic lifestyle.