Cowboy Rough: A Steamy, Contemporary Romance Novella (Colorado Cowboys Book 1)

by Harper Young

  She’s dang smart. She could be or go anywhere she wants.

  Lord help me, I want the thing she craves most of all to be me.

  I’ve almost asked Miranda for advice, but I thought twice about that. I’ve always kept my relationships private, and I’m not sure how to open up about Sloane—not when everything seems so fragile.

  My eyes drift toward the glittering lights of the main house. I know which one is Sloane’s. Is she planning on going in there after dinner and reading the book Miss Lucy put out for her?

  When I close my eyes, I can see Sloane sprawled over her bed, her long, naked legs strewn out before her. With every slow breath she takes, her breasts rise and fall. I can almost smell her vanilla perfume.

  That’s it.

  When this mystery is done, and our cattle are safe, and I can finally take a breath and focus . . . I’m going to tell Sloane how I feel. I’m going to take my heart and all the bravery I’ve got up inside of me, and I’m going to ask her to stay with me, to be with me.

  Suddenly, I feel lighter than I have in months. Years even.

  For a brief moment, I grasp hold of a certainty that I never have before—and that’s a desire for a future with the beautiful, blond city girl.

  But then a branch cracks loudly in the trees behind the stable, and my burdens return with a crashing weight.

  I leap to my feet, sucking in a breath as the adrenaline starts coursing through my veins at a rate that almost makes me dizzy.

  My brain is screaming at me to run into the house and rally the men, but then the dull light of a low flashlight sweeps through the trees, and I know that there’s no time to get anyone else.

  It’s up to me.

  14

  Sloane

  Sighing, I finish loading the dishwasher and stand up. The dark window over the kitchen sink draws my attention. Cord’s cabin is somewhere out there in the night, and I’d probably be able to see its lights if any were on.

  For some reason, he didn’t show up to dinner.

  I guess I shouldn’t be too worried. Tonight marks the fourth or fifth meal he’s skipped this week. He gets so busy patrolling that he forgets to eat.

  The thought of him out there all alone makes me catch my lower lip between my teeth. He really should take at least one other person with him.

  Behind me, the last of the men say their goodnights to Miranda and exit through the front door. I’m just turning on the dishwasher when a flash of light outside catches my eye.

  Leaning closer to the glass, I squint, but don’t see anything else.

  Curious, I wipe my hands on a dishtowel and head for the back door. Miranda’s and Piotr’s muffled voices come from the dining room, but other than that, the house sounds empty.

  Outside, I turn and jog in the direction I saw the light coming from. Near a line of trees, I see a familiar figure, moonlight illuminating his broad shoulders and thick, strong legs. Cord.

  I open my mouth to call after him, but I can tell by his stance that something is wrong. He’s crouching slightly, creeping over the ground with the carefulness of a cat stalking prey. The movement makes my stomach clench.

  What’s going on?

  I follow him instantly, refusing to let the man I care so deeply about out of my sight. He sticks to the path between the woods and one of the fields, but soon he’s too far ahead of me. The night is so dark and the moon is so small that I can no longer see him.

  Then, suddenly, his rugged back looms right in front of me, stiff and still as a boulder, and I can’t stop my feet from moving. I lurch into his side as he gives a small gasp and whirls on me, grabbing my arms so hard that I have to stifle a cry of pain.

  “Sloane?” he hisses in confusion, loosening his hold. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you—” I begin, but he presses a hand against my lips as a man’s low laugh floats down the tree line.

  Cord, again gripping me too roughly, drags me into the woods, where we stumble down behind a thick tree. My heart hammers in fear, and I can hardly breathe. Cord keeps his hand on my shoulder, and we peer carefully around the tree trunk. Dark forms come into view.

  “We got this ol’ boy good,” a man laughs. “He’ll go for a real good price. We’ll be eatin’ damn near caviar with this bunch. I’m glad we waited and took our time checkin’ out the place.”

  A second man laughs as well, his own hand twined tight around a rope that leads to what is unmistakably a bull. Cord goes so rigid that it feels like he’s made of stone. I’ve heard Uncle Daniel talk about how important bulls are to the ranch. They’re prized cattle, expensive and valuable. To lose one would be a huge blow.

  “Oh no,” I breathe quietly. “Cord, the thieves.”

  He presses his hand to my mouth again, and I shut it.

  “I need you to go get help,” he whispers, his breath hot on my ear as he bends closer. “I need you to run back to the house as fast as you can and get Daniel and the boys. Send them quick, Sloane, and you stay behind.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, now hurry, or these thieves are going to escape.”

  I want to argue, but we don’t have time for that. Just this once, I’ll let Cord call the shots.

  As I frown and give a sharp nod, he grabs my face and plants a quick kiss on my lips before pulling back. Though it’s dark and I can barely see, I think a smile twitches on his mouth.

  “For good luck.” He shrugs, pushing me gently toward the house. “Go through the woods, where they won’t see you.”

  My ears roar, and my heart pounds against my chest. I’m terrified, but I can’t let the fear control me. With a spring, I’m up and running through the woods, going toward the main house. The lights of the windows shine in the distance, like the beacon of a lighthouse.

  I haven’t made it more than halfway, however, when I hear a yell that turns my blood to ice.

  Cord!

  I whip back around, searching the dark. More shouts. The crunching of leaves and branches. A shiver goes up my back. They’re fighting.

  “This son of a bitch has been following us!” one of the men yells.

  Before I know it, I’m running back toward the voices. I have to get to Cord. I have to find him. I have to help him. A wind picks up, moving the clouds away from the moon. I can see the trees and the fence posts now. But no Cord.

  Branches crack directly beside me, and I halt just in time to see Cord jump backward. He reaches toward his side, expecting to find his gun holster, but it isn’t there.

  The two men are coming at him fast, no longer dragging the bull behind them.

  “Sloane,” Cord gasps. “Run!”

  But I can’t. We’re way beyond that now.

  The men both advance on Cord, taking him from two sides. With a swell of nausea, I realize how badly I just screwed up. I should have kept going to the house. I should have gotten help.

  One of the men goes for Cord, but my cowboy is faster. He grabs the man’s arm and twists it before landing a punch on his jaw. The other man grabs the back of Cord’s shirt, but Cord is ready. He slams his boot heel into the thief’s knee, making the guy howl.

  He’s winning the fight for now, but two against one isn’t looking good.

  I desperately search the ground near me, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. It’s still hard to see much, though, and there’s grunting and swearing, and I think I’m going to throw up . . .

  I take a step forward, and my toe hits a branch. Yes!

  Hands shaking, I heft it up. One of the men is behind Cord now, holding him in a bear hug while the other man stumbles up from the ground. Tightening my grip on the branch like it’s a bat, I step forward and slam it into the head of the man holding Cord.

  The crack that resounds isn’t nearly as loud as I expected it to be, but the man gives a startled yelp and lets go of Cord. Clutching the back of his bruised cranium, he whirls to face me.

  The branch drops from my hands, landing with a thud.


  Fortunately, though I didn’t do any real damage, it gave Cord time to act. He flies at the man nearest him, tackling him hard to the ground.

  The rage in the bald man’s face slowly melts. He steps closer, the moonlight catching in his eyes as he inspects me.

  “What’ve we got here?” he murmurs hungrily, alcohol so heavily laced on his breath that I can smell it from a few feet away.

  I grimace and stumble back, my foot catching on a thick root in the ground. I lose my balance and reach out toward a tree to catch myself, but the man takes advantage of my moment of disorientation and grabs hold of me, pushing me down to the ground as he climbs on top of my body.

  His dirty, clammy hands are suddenly everywhere, his bitter breath crawling up my nose.

  A scream that I don’t recognize rips through my throat as I struggle, hitting the sides of his head with my hands until he grabs my wrists and pins them so hard above my head that I can feel his fingernails digging into my wrists.

  “No!” I cry shrilly as his other hand pulls at my shirt and his laughter pierces the night air.

  I try to kick my legs up, but they’re pinned to the ground. I turn my face sideways to escape the man’s horrid breath and see Cord still fighting. He roars in rage, pulling back one strong fist and plunging it right into the nose of the man he’s wrestling with.

  The man’s head snaps back, and he stops moving. Leaving him on the ground, Cord jumps up and heaves the bald man off of me. The man tries to turn to get in a punch, but Cord is too quick. He throws the stranger down to the ground and leaps on top of him. Punch after punch hits the man’s face, the sound of knuckles on bone cracking through the night.

  I stand up, but my legs are shaking, and I have to reach out to the tree next to me. Footsteps sound nearby, and I suck in a breath.

  Oh, no. More of them?

  But then familiar figures appear. Uncle Daniel. Tucker. Piotr.

  Tucker grabs Cord, heaving him off the now-unconscious man as Uncle Daniel surveys the situation.

  “What the devil,” Uncle Daniel mutters. “Sloane? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” I gasp. I feel anything but all right, but at least I’m alive.

  My whole body shakes as Cord retreats back to me, taking me into his arms and holding me tight against him. It’s only in his embrace that I finally begin to feel warm again, and the feeling of the bald man’s eyes and hands begins to recede.

  “They were taking Danny Bull,” Piotr announces. “He is tied up to a fence post.”

  “Well, Tuck,” Uncle Daniel sighs and rubs his forehead. “It’s a good thing you had to piss and heard this ruckus.”

  15

  Cord

  Without a word, I wrap one arm firmly around Sloane’s waist and help her walk from the woods.

  Her body sags in my hold, and she walks stiffly, like she’s sleepwalking or something. My heart aches with what I know must be going through her head.

  Tucker has the bald thief tossed easily over his shoulder, the man’s arms dangling limp toward the forest floor and rocking with every step. I try not to stare at him, fury brewing inside of me like a tumultuous storm, but all I can think about is his hands raking roughly over the beautiful woman at my side—my beautiful woman.

  I can feel her shaking as she presses to me, letting me guide her over the broken stumps and arched roots. She blinks, but I’m not sure she’s even seeing what’s in front of her.

  The other man is awake now, though still dazed from the good punch I gave him. Piotr has tied his wrists together with one of the bull’s ropes, keeping the thief from escaping into the trees as he’s led forward.

  We all walk in silence, grateful that the thieves have been apprehended but disturbed by the tiring events of the night.

  “Dane,” I say quietly. “Run ahead and call the sheriff.”

  He gives a sharp nod and takes off, darting easily through the night toward the dimly lit house.

  Sloane’s cheek falls against my shoulder, one of her lithe arms wrapping around my waist. I stop walking, letting the others get farther ahead.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, hating the question.

  I just don’t know what else to say. I never seem to know the right things to say.

  A few long seconds tick by before she seems to hear my question at all.

  “No,” she answers honestly, swiping at her red-rimmed eyes. When she shakes her head, hair tumbles over her shoulders, and I notice there are small twigs and leaves clinging to the silky locks. “But I will be. In time.”

  I can only nod, smoothing one hand over her cheek and then gently tucking a stray tangle of blond hair behind her ear. She turns her face slightly, pressing warm lips into my palm as I slip my other arm around her and draw her up against me. Her heart beats rapidly against my chest.

  “I just keep thinking about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come out here,” she murmurs. “You could’ve been hurt. You could’ve . . .” She trails off, and her body shudders in my arms. “It could’ve just been so much worse.”

  I hug her tighter against me, as though I can protect her—even from her own thoughts. It’s so like Sloane to only be thinking of me when it was her that was truly in danger tonight. When I looked over and saw that man on top of her, his grubby hands clawing at her clothes, it was like a bomb suddenly burst inside of me. All I could think of was getting to her, of getting her away from him.

  As long as Sloane is always okay, it doesn’t matter what happens to me. I can take anything at all . . . except seeing her hurt.

  I can’t read her eyes, but I feel her inspecting me. It always feels like that, like she can just look in my direction and see every little thought passing through my head.

  I can’t decide if I like it or hate it, but if someone has to be able to read me like a book, I’m glad it’s Sloane.

  “But you did come out here, didn’t you?” I chuckle dryly, my fingers stroking up and down the length of her delicate back.

  She sighs slightly, closing her eyes, letting my touch wash away the other man’s.

  “You saw me creeping like a panther through the night, and you decided you just had to come all the way out here and snoop on me.” I continue with a faint smirk. “Such a city girl way of thinking. I could’ve been tracking a bear for all you know.”

  She straightens back up but stays in my arms. I want to kiss her, but now’s not the time.

  “It was a feeling.” She shrugs. “I knew something was wrong. I knew I had to come out here and see what was happening.”

  “Yeah, like how you felt you just had to come out to this ranch from school?” I smirk, but she nods sincerely, and my heart does a little somersault.

  “Exactly,” she murmurs, stepping forward and closing the distance between us.

  Her feet rest in between mine, her hands splaying over my chest.

  “Exactly,” she repeats, gazing up at me.

  Heat rises between us. I press my forehead to hers and close my eyes, inhaling long. I mull over what to say to her but can’t decide. Instead, I press my mouth against hers, wishing for all the world that I could take us back in time to before that bald thief threw himself at her.

  “Cord!” Daniel calls in that gruff, commanding voice of his. “I need you to stand guard at the stable for a minute. Monty can never find the damn driveway, and lord knows he’ll forget his glasses again.”

  My foreman continues grumbling under his breath as I take a hesitant step back from Sloane. She raises her arm and gestures toward the stable.

  “I’ll be fine,” she promises me, and I know that to be true. Even still, I don’t want to leave her alone.

  Not now. Not when she’s been through so much.

  “Go on.” Sloane sets her hands on her hips, suddenly all business. “My uncle needs you.”

  I sweep my arms around her waist, dragging her one more time into a quick embrace, letting my lips press a chaste kiss on her own. Her mouth is so soft and invit
ing that I have to struggle to pull away, especially when she fits so perfectly in my arms and her fingertips slip tenderly over my jaw.

  I am just so damn grateful that she’s all right, and I’m just so damn angry that any other man dared lay a finger on her.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near that stable,” I say softly. “But Sheriff DuBois is going to need a statement from you. Go into the house and have some coffee. Jameson will’ve made some—he can’t help himself. He drinks more coffee than water. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  To my surprise, Sloane agrees without a single word of argument. It’s not like her not to bicker just for the sake of bickering. I watch as she walks over the grass, through the yellow light spilling out onto the lawn, and into the house. Her shoulders hunch forward slightly, like she’s carrying a heavy weight.

  My gaze swings back to the stable, where the cattle thieves are locked away.

  Swallowing the thick, dry lump in my throat, I storm over to the door and hurl it open. It swings, smacking loudly into the wall. Crumpet and the rest of the horses look up sharply, shifting nervously in their stalls. They’re already uncomfortable with the two foul-smelling strangers tied up to the post in the middle of the walkway.

  “You,” I whisper bitterly, lurching toward the bald man.

  Only just woken, he gazes up as though he doesn’t recognize me, blood dripping from the corner of his lip. He doesn’t answer, though the other man is looking on nervously, his face an ashy pallor and his mouth quivering like a little boy who’s just pissed himself out of fear. They both smell of stale beer, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

  “You know, I could forgive you for being dirty, low-life thieves. I don’t care about that now that you’ve been caught,” I hiss, blinking away the red fury that glows in front of my eyes. My whole body seethes, like I’m a volcano about to erupt. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Sloane.”

  “Sloane?” Baldie echoes dully. “What? Is that the beast?”