by Starla Kaye
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For Ruby’s Love
Copyright © 2015 by Starla Kaye
ISBN: 978-1-61333-785-1
Cover art by Tibbs Designs
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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www.decadentpublishing.com
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For Ruby’s Love
By
Starla Kaye
Chapter One
“Dadburnit!” Ruby swore her father’s favorite word as the pickup gave a last gasp before stopping on the gravel road. She could hear him in her head, chastising her for not taking time to get gas in the last town. They’d always had a difference of opinion about when to fuel up. He preferred keeping the tank topped off, getting gas whenever the needle hit half a tank. She waited until the needle danced around E. Living on the edge had gotten her into trouble.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled the key from the ignition. She would be footing it the rest of the way to the main part of the Circle C Ranch. At least she’d gotten onto the ranch road and eased over to the side as much as she could before the stupid truck started sputtering.
The stubborn driver’s door gave the familiar metal-rubbing-against-metal creak when she shoved it open, setting her teeth on edge. One of these days she would have to get some work done—when she had two spare seconds. Money for repairs wasn’t as much of an issue as having free time. Her life had been hectic enough when her father was alive and they traveled constantly. By herself and needing to establish her own reputation…. Well, her life had gotten stressful.
Make that more stressful. Almost three weeks late getting here, her phone call to Calhoun Cordell last night hadn’t been pleasant, and she’d promised him she would be at his ranch promptly at ten o’clock this morning. She would have been, too, if….
No sense thinking about the list of mounting “ifs.” Just get your ass in gear and hoof it down the road! Woman up.
Stepping from the truck, she shivered against the blast of frigid, January Kansas wind. Not a day meant for walking, but at least there wasn’t snow. Yet. The thick, white clouds looked ominous, this second day of the new year. She could imagine what the next few weeks or so would be like.
She drew in a calming breath, reached into the cab, and snagged her sheepskin-lined jacket. She settled her hat down tight and grabbed the slouchy bag containing some of life’s necessities and a whole passel of junk.
Before she could step away, pain wrenched her heart. Tears burned her eyes. God, she missed her dad. Every day it got a little easier to deal with the sudden loss of the man who’d been her mentor, her partner, and her solid rock for twenty-six years.
This should have been his job, with her being his assistant like always. Although from the sound of the problem with Cordell’s horse, her dad would have put her in charge. With him beside her, he could have been convinced to allow her to deal with his traumatized horse. She would have her work cut out convincing the gruff-sounding rancher to give her a chance with the prized breeding mare.
She dashed away tears and gave a last glance at the big, pink Ford half-ton truck and the attached nineteen-foot camper covered in decals from all over the country. It still seemed strange to be traveling alone and not as part of their mini caravan. For the last five years, she and her dad each drove their own rig with travel trailer. They each wanted personal space at the end of their long workdays. Loneliness ate at her.
No time to deal with sad memories. She had a job to get to. A potentially unshakable cowboy to tussle with so she could do the job. She’d gotten a gut-deep sense of trouble in their difficult conversation.
She tugged the collar up higher. Trouble seemed to be coming at her from all directions. Darn good thing she was made of tough stuff.
***
Calhoun paced from one end of the great room to the other, stopping every few feet to glance out the wall of windows toward the ranch road. His mood soured with each passing minute. He should be helping with chores or working on his plans for purchasing the neighboring ranch. Or doing a hell of a lot more than waiting around.
“Wearing a hole in the rug isn’t going to make them get here any sooner,” Daniel pointed out, patience in his tone.
“They’re already near two hours late.” He turned to face the man he didn’t quite have a label for. They were lovers, but he had trouble calling Daniel that because he still saw lovers in terms of male/female. They were life partners—another label that didn’t fit, since he believed partners lived together and they didn’t. He did know the damn good-looking man was a big part of his life, and about the only person able to calm him down when he got riled.
Daniel set aside the business magazine he’d been reading. “Something must have happened.”
“They were supposed to have been here three weeks ago.” He ran a hand through his hair, making a mental note to find time for a trim. His hair always seemed to need cutting, something never very high on his list of priorities. The endless To-Get-Done-Some-Damn-Time list and the nightmares he still had about the fire were almost more than he could bear these days.
“I should have told her no when she called yesterday. I should have called the other man the vet told me about.”
“R.T. McMurtry is the best horse whisperer around. You’ve checked him out. I checked him out. He’s worth waiting a little longer for.” He patted the place beside him on the leather sofa. “Come sit down. Let me rub your shoulders and get the knots out of the muscles.”
The warm, inviting look in Daniel’s brown eyes tempted him to let the man massage the tension away, soothe him. But he knew even a simple touch could lead to something they shouldn’t be doing. Not with the McMurtrys arriving at any time. Besides, his ass was mighty tender after their early morning round of burning up the sheets in the wild way they seldom did.
He shook his head. �
�Later, but thanks.” His offer made him a little less edgy, but no less annoyed.
“Maybe you should call them.” Daniel’s eyes mirrored disappointment at the turn down. He’d been beyond patient and given up a lot of his time this last month in particular to be around and support Calhoun.
“I figure it’s their place to call and let me know why the hell they’re so late.” He fisted his hands at his sides and sucked in a breath then blew it out in a long exhale.
Daniel stood, stretched his arms above his head, and swiveled side to side. “I’ve been sitting here too long watching you pace.” He lowered his arms. “I think I’ll go make a couple of phone calls. I’m still trying to arrange next month’s trip to Kauai.”
He couldn’t help admiring his friend’s long, lean body, couldn’t stop his immediate erection. Poor timing. He wasn’t going to act on his urge. Forcing aside the lusty thoughts of what he wanted to do, he focused on the Kauai subject. Daniel had been hounding him for a year about the two of them getting away to his vacation home.
“I can’t leave right now. Not with all the rebuilding going on here. Not with the negotiations just starting.” Shit. He wished he could take the last comment back. He didn’t want to argue.
“With spring’s arrival, you’ll come up with a whole new set of excuses.” His gaze narrowed. “You were rethinking buying the other ranch. Didn’t we decide you already have a lot to handle with this one?”
He grimaced. How many times had they talked about this? Too many. They never agreed, probably never would. “It’s no different than you merging your business with another one and taking on more responsibilities. Hell, you do that every few months.”
They stood there, silently challenging each other. Two stubborn men. Sometimes he wondered what they were doing together, how they managed to get beyond the moments when they butted heads. Yet, he couldn’t imagine life without him, and he believed the man felt the same way about him. Why else would the man put up with his sour moods of late? All this worry since the barn burned down and he’d lost two valuable horses wore on him. The worst part had been trying to deal with his traumatized quarter horse, Starbright, the backbone of his breeding program. She also meant a hell of a lot to him personally.
“Sorry. I’m just—”
Daniel moved in front of him, touched his shoulder, and cut him off. “Forget it, I don’t want to argue. You’ve got enough on your mind. We’ll squabble over these issues later.”
Inhaling the familiar scent of his lover’s expensive cologne and the man himself, he gave in to at least some of his growing need. He cupped Daniel’s head with his hands and pulled him closer. Getting no resistance, he put their mouths together and took what he hungered for. He kissed him long and hard until their breathing turned rough. Between the barriers of denim and khaki they rubbed their cocks together.
The hell with it! He craved relief.
Daniel’s hands slid around him. As he began kneading his ass, he sucked in a breath. He did the same. Their chests pressed together. He sensed that the man’s desperate need matched his own. Sore ass or not….
The doorbell rang, loud and demanding.
“Shit!” He snarled, and they jerked apart. He fought to calm his aroused body and gave his lover a regretful look. Piss-poor timing.
The bell rang again.
“Someone’s impatient,” Daniel said, his voice deeper in his aroused state, tinged with frustration. “Better answer the door.”
Calhoun took another couple of seconds to gather enough confidence to face whoever it was without showing them the raging hard-on bulging out the front of his jeans. Who would be ringing his doorbell? His ranch hands would call his cell phone or knock. He wasn’t expecting anyone other than McMurtry and his daughter, but they would drive up in front of the house. He would have heard them.
He pulled open the over-sized front door and gaped at the bit of a woman shivering on the porch. She appeared a foot shorter than him and a good sixty or more pounds lighter. What hit him most were her eyes—an odd dark green, like jade or something. Her eyes narrowed as he looked her over.
Finally, she stretched to her full minimal height and bristled at him. “When you’re done checking me out, do you think you could let me inside? It’s colder than cold out here.”
Daniel stepped beside him and intervened. “Let the lady in, Cal.” He looked around her and asked, “Where’s your car? Assuming you drove here.”
She slid between them into the tiled foyer before turning back. “No car. And I didn’t drive here, at least not exactly.” Her teeth chattered.
Calhoun closed the door against the sharp winter breeze and watched her pull off a battered pink Stetson, unveiling chin-length strawberry-blonde hair. “What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” He added, “Who are you, anyway?”
She worried her trembling lower lip and glanced from him to Daniel and back. She pulled off a glove and stuck out her hand. “Ruby McMurtry.”
Instead of taking her hand, he puffed up in annoyance. “You’re late! Where’s your father?”
She started to lower her hand, glowering at him. But he noticed something besides anger in the depths of those enchanting eyes. He couldn’t get a handle on the emotion.
While he tried to calm down, wishing he hadn’t jumped on her, Daniel reached out and shook her very red-looking hand.
“You feel like ice,” he said in concern. He took a second to scowl at him.
As she blinked at her hand sandwiched between Daniel’s, her already pink-chilled cheeks turned pinker. “I should’ve worn my thicker gloves,” she muttered in clear discomfort. When she managed to slip free, she glared at him.
A twinge of guilt about his rude behavior passed through him, but his anger came out first as he repeated himself. “Where’s your father? I have a serious bone to pick with him.”
Those eyes that still captivated him welled up with tears. His gut tightened.
Her lower lip wobbled and she sputtered, “He…he…he’s dead.”
The big cowboy—Calhoun Cordell, she recognized from researching the Circle C Ranch on the Internet—lost his bluster and shifted uncomfortably. Ruby didn’t doubt his upset with the situation, but he seemed at a momentary loss of what to say to her. After a second, he mumbled, “Sorry.” Something she’d heard far too many times over these last few weeks.
She nodded, dashed at the ridiculous tears, darn tired of getting all weepy every time someone mentioned her father. Her heart pinched, too. Darn, darn, darn! She didn’t want to let these men see her cry, have them witness this weak side of her.
In the awkward few seconds when no one spoke, she considered turning around and walking right back out the door. She didn’t need this particular job. She and her father always had a long list of ranchers wanting their services—her services since he’d departed. She’d come here because her dad had made this arrangement and she’d felt honor bound to follow through with the agreement. Plus, she’d read up about Starbright and couldn’t bear the much-praised mare suffering when she could help her.
Before she could speak again or move, the sexy man with thinning, neatly trimmed brown hair gave her a kind smile. “How about we take this conversation into a more comfortable place? Take your coat off and you can warm up in front of the fire.”
Cordell’s rugged face remained pinched, less hostile, but she thought he wanted to send her on her way. Without her father, he didn’t appear to think about her working with his horse.
Maybe because of all the massive problems she’d dealt with lately, she was in the mood to push his buttons. She wasn’t ready to head back out into the cold day just yet. She gave him a dismissive glance and drew up a thankful smile for the other man. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” She trembled from head to toes that felt numb and not an act for their benefit.
Impressive shoulders sagged beneath the cowboy’s blue chambray shirt. The tightness left his square jaw, and she noticed a sexy little cleft in his chin. He didn�
�t say a word, just nudged her to move.
The enormous room, with an inviting mix of olive-green walls and lots of warm, dark-oak trim, fit the sprawling two-story log house. It was filled to capacity with oversized, deep-brown leather, Western-style furniture. Every one of the pieces had thick cushions perfect for sinking into. A massive square, wooden coffee table covered with a mix of ranching, car and truck, and business magazines sat in the middle of three sofas. But her gaze went to the stone fireplace spanning the entire wall straight ahead. Two chairs, an ottoman, and a recliner faced it. A perfect spot for warming up in front of the blazing fire.
She didn’t have to be asked twice. The room called to her, and she slipped off her coat to hand to him. She kept her slouchy bag with her and all but ran to one of the chairs by the fireplace. Every inch of her body ached from too many hours driving and the long walk from her truck to the house. She plopped down with a sigh of pure contentment.
In less than a second, she closed her eyes and began to nod off—the moment ruined by his heavy footsteps pounding next to her.
“Are you ready to talk yet? Explain why the hell you didn’t tell me about your father when we spoke on the phone yesterday?” he asked in a brusque manner.
She kept her eyes closed, wishing the vexing man would leave her alone just for a few minutes. If she didn’t respond, didn’t look at him, maybe he would.
“Are you sleeping?” he asked in a near growl, laced with disbelief.
Huffing, she opened her eyes to find him towering over her, still holding her coat. “If you’d give me a minute’s worth of peace and quiet, I could conk out. Not going to happen, is it?”
He snorted.
The other man of nearly the same height moved beside him and touched his shoulder. “Cal, she’s dead on her feet.” He winced. “Sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”
