by Brook Wilder
“Hey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Elle asked, noticing her expression and her still trembling hands that clenched the steering wheel.
“Yeah. It’s alright,” Carla said softly, as she remembered her last few awful minutes of work, “Maurice.”
That’s all she had to say. Elle knew all about her problems with her boss’s unwanted attention and she encouraged her to go the police or do something to make him stop. But he hadn’t really done anything criminal, and what was worse was that it would be her word against his, and then she knew for sure she would get fired.
“Ugh. That guy is such a creep. I can’t wait till you can quit that place.”
Hopefully in two days, I can, Carla thought to herself. “Yeah, me neither. Well, I better go in. I’m exhausted and I gotta be at the farm early tomorrow.” Carla dragged herself from the truck and Elle gave her a big hug, which instantly made her feel better. With one last wave goodbye, she walked into the small house, wishing that tomorrow would never come.
Chapter 2
Carla took a deep breath of the crisp Colorado air that was tinged with the pungent smell of marijuana and rich soil. She let it sink into her, releasing her tense muscles as she walked through the misty greenhouse. There was always a thin layer of fog that hung low and swirled early in the morning and it transported her to someplace magical, someplace that wasn’t run by the world’s creepiest boss. Just her and the plants. The tiny sparks she had nurtured to life.
It had been two days, and now that it was time, her nerves were almost getting the best of her. The plan that had popped into her head--of stealing the latest shipment of weed, selling it for the money she so desperately needed, and taking off--had latched on and wouldn’t let go. She’d done what she could to make sure that Eric wouldn’t come in today. Eric was the guy who regularly drove their deliveries. He was a nice enough guy, but he was kind of flaky anyways, and, like Carla, was known to indulge in a little bit of their own product from time to time.
She had been on the fence, worrying about whether or not to go through with it, but yesterday at work, Maurice had been there, and as bad as the night before had been, this had been even worse.
He had been there, waiting for her, first thing in the morning. And everywhere she turned throughout the day, he was there, leering at her with those eyes of his, tracking her movements like a predator eyeing its next meal and the tension had been worse than ever. She had felt trapped, claustrophobic and then she had been trapped for real as he’d cornered her in the back of the small shed they used to house tools and equipment.
“You want this just as much as I do, stop trying to play like some innocent little girl,” he’d growled at her.
“No, I don’t. Let me go,” she’d said as firmly as she could through the trembling of her voice. “I just want to do my job, that’s it.”
“Well, if you want to keep this precious job of yours, maybe you should consider being a little more accommodating.”
Carla had tried to duck past him but his bulk blocked most of the doorway and panic had settled hard and painful in her chest. She knew she had to get out of there. Luckily, the sound of a cell phone ringing echoed through the shed just then and Maurice answered it. She’d used his moment of distraction to escape, but now she knew. He wasn’t going to stop. She didn’t really have any other choice anymore. She had to go through with her plan.
It had been easy enough to switch a few dates around on the calendar. No one really paid attention to that unless they were checking for something specific which is why yesterday, no one had noticed the shipment date had mysteriously gone absent. She prayed that would be enough to stop Eric from coming in.
She moved out of the greenhouse and towards the truck, almost full and ready for shipment. It was a big, seventeen-foot moving truck that had been repurposed with the Honey Bud Farm logo. While it showed plenty signs of wear, it didn’t matter, as long as it got her away from here. Carla walked back to where the final bags of dried and processed plant were stacked against the side of the house that held the office. She heard a raised voice and paused.
“Damn it, Eric. What the hell is wrong with you! You knew there was a shipment due to be delivered today!” Maurice’s angry shouts were easily heard from where Carla was working just outside the open window to the office. Nervously, she crossed her fingers, and prayed her plan would work.
“What do you mean it wasn’t posted on the schedule? It has to go out today, you asshole. I don’t care if you’re camping in the middle of god-damned nowhere, just get here. Now!”
There was another long stretch of silence before she heard Maurice slam the receiver down. A moment later, he stormed out of the front door, his face beet red with anger and sweat drenching his face as he mumbled under his breath.
“Hey, Maurice, is everything okay?” she asked, desperately trying to keep her voice normal, all the while hating to even bring his attention to where she still stood on the side of the house. He turned to her, his eyes automatically swept over her body and, as he spoke, the words were directed more at her breasts than at her.
“Fucking Eric. He says he can’t deliver this shipment but it has to leave today. We’re on a tight schedule,” the last words were almost a shout as he swept a meaty hand over his face, wiping away some of the sweat but not all. Carla took a deep, fortifying breath. Now was her chance. It was now or never.
“Maybe, uh…maybe I could deliver it?” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ve driven a truck before,” she lied through her teeth and kept her eyes on the knot she was trying to tie in the bag in front of her, praying that he would believe her, that he wouldn’t see the way her hands trembled.
Maurice stared at her for a long time, one of his eyebrows arched doubtfully and she wished he would say something, anything as her heart rate doubled, and then tripled, pounding like a race horse in her chest.
“Fine. Here, take it.” He tossed her the truck keys and she fumbled at them, barely catching them. “The address of the dispensary is in the truck. Just deliver it and come straight back,” his gaze changed, his dark eyes heating as they stayed glued to her breasts, “You still have other work to do.”
His tone left her no doubt that she had no interest in the kind of ‘work’ he was talking about and she hastily grabbed the last of the shipment, loaded it in, and locked the back before she scrambled into the cabin of the truck.
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Read on for an excerpt from Brook Wilder’s bestselling novel full-length novel – Taken:
PREVIEW: TAKEN
I TOOK THE DAUGHTER OF THE BASTARD WHO RUINED MY LIFE.
She got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But once she got involved, there was no way I could let her go.
At first it was just out of necessity.
But that was before I had a chance to take her in.
Before I could have a proper look.
And just like that, I was hooked.
I can't get her out of my mind.
Can't stop picturing her body pinned against mine.
Her breath hot on my ear as she screams my name.
There's no way anything or anyone can hold me back.
No way I can stop myself from having her.
From owning her.
From ruining her.
Again and again.
Night after night.
Until she forgets who she is.
Until I make her MINE.
Chapter 1
The open sky stretched for miles overhead. Dusk was starting to settle over the hundreds of acres that made up Gold Creek Ranch. The sinking sun turned the bright greens and warm ambers of the prairie to indigo as the shadows began to lengthen. The sun sank westward over the heart of Texas, streaming clouds of bright fuchsia and fiery red in its wake, as Elsie McLaurel rode her horse across the sea of grass.
A loose fitting old
button-down shirt hung half untucked at her waist, and her blonde hair—usually worn long and wavy down her back—was pinned up underneath the wide brimmed hat that did its best to protect her fair skin from the harsh Texas sun. If you’d spotted her from the highway, you’d never have guessed that she was the heiress to a multi-million-dollar ranching business—one of the biggest in the entire state.
Her riding boots and sun-bleached jeans were covered in mud from riding across the recently rained-on ground, chasing after each head of cattle that slowly churned the once green grass into sucking muck under their trampling hooves.
Gold Creek was made up of several hundred thousand acres of open grassy fields that had long since fallen under hard times, until her father Mark McLaurel had started buying up every minor ranch in the area. In the matter of a few years, Gold Creek went from nothing more than a few acres and a title on a paper to one of the biggest corporate ranches in all of West Texas—land that would one day all belong to her.
Elsie shook her head at the stray thought. The last thing she wanted was to take over her father’s corporation. She knew Mark McLaurel had a reputation as a ruthless, heartless corporate rancher and she wanted no part in it. Soon enough I’ll be able to get out of here, Elsie mused to herself. Out of this small town, away from Daddy’s reputation. Then, I’ll be able to make my own life.
The sound of gentle mooing off to her right had her sliding down from the back of Goat, her chestnut gelding. Elsie patted Goat softly on the nose and he snorted in response. He’d been just a foal when Elsie had taken him in. His mother died birthing him and Elsie had felt an instant kinship. He didn’t have a mother, and neither did she. Against her father’s wishes, Elsie had taken him in and nursed him back to health.
It had been a long fight to bring the tiny foal back from the brink of death, but he’d held on and fought like hell. ‘Stubborn as a goat,’ her father had said about him once, and the name had stuck.
That mooing rose up again and Elsie cast a look over her shoulder at the heifer standing a few yards behind her.
“Don’t worry, Bluebell, I didn’t forget about you.” With a small chuckle, Elsie reached into the canvas saddlebag she had strung over the pommel and found a handful of apple slices, a favorite among the cattle.
Without an ounce of hesitation, Elsie walked up to the massive heifer and held out her hand. The cow dwarfed Elsie’s own petite five-foot one frame, but she’d spent her entire life around them. She knew they could be dangerous if she got in the way of a panicked stampede, but she also saw the gentleness in them, the sweetness in the big, brown eyes that rolled towards the apple slices that were held just out of reach.
“Oh, here ya go, Bluebell,” Elsie said as she brought her hand closer. Bluebell munched happily at the treat.
Elsie looked around as she petted the soft fuzz on the cow’s muzzle, surveying the milling cattle nearby. None seemed disturbed by her presence, although occasionally some would roll their big, heavily lashed eyes in her direction in hope of the special treatment Bluebell was getting. She recognized most of the animals and took a deep breath, staring up a sky that had now turned to a darkling purple.
“It’s time we got going, Bluebell,” Elsie whispered softly. But she wasn’t talking about the cattle. She was talking about herself. About her future and what she would do next. A sudden thrill shot through her at the thought of the envelopes she’s snuck into the post just a week before. Her applications for Veterinary school.
For as long as she could remember, Elsie had loved animals, whether she was working with them or treating them. It was her passion, the one thing in her life that she’d always known she wanted to do. But when she had brought up going away to school to her father at the end of last summer, he had told her in no uncertain terms that she would be staying on at the ranch to learn the ins and outs of the business. He wanted her to take over the ranch one day and there was nothing that could change his mind.
But she just couldn’t. She’s heard the rumors. She’d heard what people said about how her daddy ran his business. With a hard fist and an even harder heart. She didn’t know everything that he did, but she knew enough to know that she didn’t agree with all of it. She also knew that she wasn’t cut out to be a business person. She loved being outside, being with the animals. The thought of being trapped behind a desk for the rest of her life made her sick to her stomach.
She was still idly stroking Bluebell’s cheek when she remembered the night the cow had been born. She’d been in the barn for hours, helping bring the little calf into the world. She was much younger then and the biggest problem in her life at the time had been figuring out a way to get out of wearing the old-timey dresses her daddy kept buying her. She’d lived in ripped jeans and hand-me-down buttoned shirts for as long as she’d known, and dresses weren’t something that she ever felt comfortable in. Elsie looked down at herself with a smirk. Well, that at least hasn’t changed.
“Els! Elsie!” a strong voice called out from over a ridge.
She grinned at the middle-aged man who trotted up on the back of an impressive black and white stallion.
“Hey, Lorenzo,” Elsie greeted the familiar man with a wave. Lorenzo had been a farm hand at Gold Creek Ranch for years, since long before her father had taken over. He was one of the only employees who had been kept on after the McLaurel Corporation purchased the ranch from its owner.
He was deeply tanned from his time out in the sun, despite the cowboy hat tilted low over his dark, kind eyes. It made the wrinkles in his weathered face even more visible. The only other part of him that was exposed were the rough calloused hands that masterfully handled his horse’s reins. The rest of him was covered head to toe in denim and worn-out leather boots.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Elsie. I was startin’ to get worried,” he said, his deep tenor as warm as the sun that was just now starting to dip below the tree line.
“Sorry, Lorenzo. I just wanted to come out and check on Bluebell. I wanted to make sure she was still doing alright.” Elsie patted the cow’s neck and got a heartfelt moo in return. “You know she’s been getting those infections over the past few weeks.”
“Well, whatever you’ve been giving her has worked like a charm. Practically magic.” Lorenzo took his hat off and brushed at the sweat dotting his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt before placing it back on his head. “Got a couple of other cattle you can take a look at when we get back to the barn. If we ever do get back that is. At this rate, we’ll be out here chasing them around all night.”
Elsie ignored Lorenzo’s gruff tone. She was more than used to the straight-forward talk from the man and didn’t take any offense at it. She knew he didn’t mean any more or any less than just what he said, even if he did have a tendency to sound like a grouch while he was saying it.
“Alright,” she sighed as she gave the last of the apple slices to Bluebell, chuckling as the fuzz around her mouth tickled her palm. “That’s all I got, girl. You’ll just have to wait until next time.”
The heifer rolled her eyes in dissatisfaction, making Elsie laugh again and Lorenzo shake his head.
“You know they’re not pets, right?”
“I do.”
“You shouldn’t get so attached, Elsie.”
“It’s impossible not to.” Elsie shook her head and gave Bluebell one last pet before she walked back towards Goat, who had been happily rooting around a nearby tree for fallen fruit. She put her booted foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself up into the leather saddle. She’d been riding since she was a little girl and the motions felt like second nature.
“Come on then.” Lorenzo swept his gaze over the rolling grass-covered hills as the sun finally made its final bow before disappearing altogether. “Let’s get the rest of the cattle and bring ’em on in.”
They worked in silence as they rounded up the last of the herd. It didn’t take all night, but it did take a solid hour or two to get the stragglers moving in th
e right direction. It wasn’t until they were nearly back to the ranch when Elsie noticed that some were missing.
“Hey, Lorenzo. I don’t see Lily, Trixie, or Pearl,” Elsie said.
Lorenzo looked at her with a quizzical gaze. “Who?”
“The cows, Lorenzo,” Elsie sighed, shaking her head as she scanned the herd once more. But no, she hadn’t been wrong. She didn’t see them anywhere.
“Who names a cow Pearl?” Lorenzo muttered to himself. But a moment later he spoke up, shrugging as he did so. “Cattle wander off sometimes, you know that. They always show up a few days later.”
“This feels different. Maybe we should head back out.”
