Her Risk To Take
(Novella)
by Toni Anderson
Copyright © 2014 Toni Anderson
Kobo Edition
Cover design by Killion Group, Inc.
ISBN-13: 9780993908903
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Dedicated to Readers.
Also by Toni Anderson
COLD JUSTICE SERIES
Cold Fear (Book #4) coming spring 2015
Cold Justice Series Box Set (Books 1-3) available January 2015
Cold Light of Day (Book #3)
Cold Pursuit (Book #2)
A Cold Dark Place (Book #1)
THE BARKLEY SOUND SERIES
Dark Waters (Book #2)
Dangerous Waters (Book #1)
STAND-ALONE TITLES
The Killing Game
Edge of Survival
Storm Warning
Sea of Suspicion
HER ~ ROMANTIC SUSPENSE SERIES
Her ~ Romantic Suspense Box Set (Books 1-3) available February 2015
Her Risk To Take (Novella ~ Book #3)
Her Last Chance (Book #2)
Her Sanctuary (Book #1)
Chapter One
IT WAS NOVEMBER in the Treasure State, the sky so blue it made the russet of the dead grass glow like bronze, and the few remaining leaves on the trees shimmer pure gold. The scent of dark, fragrant earth rose up and filled the valley, mixing with the pungent smell of horses, saddle soap, and leather. Cal Landon cinched the girth another two notches as the quiet bay mare turned her head to give him a disgruntled look. Morven was smart and easygoing, but lately she was getting fat and lazy. When the heated indoor arena was built, the mare was going to be invaluable in helping kids and adults learn to ride, but in the meantime, Cal figured he better give her some exercise. He’d saddled a roan gelding for Ryan and was waiting for the cowboy to head out after breakfast. Cal pulled a hoof-pick out of his back pocket and checked the horses’ feet, clearing away clumps of dried dirt.
He and Ryan were checking fences down near the reservoir today. Cattle kept escaping onto the road, and he didn’t want them causing any accidents. There had to be a break in the wire somewhere. He and Ryan could have driven around, but the horses needed exercise, and they both liked doing things the old-fashioned way.
The Triple H Ranch was owned by the Sullivans—Nat and his wife Eliza, and Nat’s sister and brother, twins Sarah and Ryan. Cal had been close friends with Nat at school and had worked at the ranch since he’d gotten out of prison. Most of the time he managed to forget about that dark period of his life, and the Sullivans made it easy. They never judged him, never held it against him. He’d probably have screwed up years ago without their unflinching support. Off the ranch, some people went out of their way to remind him he was nothing but a murderer.
A breeze snaked down off the Flathead Range, a hint of frost in its teeth.
Fall was a quiet time on the ranch. They had a couple hundred head of cattle that needed shelter from the cold and a constant supply of food and water, but it wasn’t a particularly onerous time of year. He and Ryan could pretty much handle it themselves with the occasional help from Ezra, when the older man’s arthritis wasn’t playing up. Nat and Eliza were busy overseeing the construction of the arena and establishing the stud side of the business.
Things were looking up for the Sullivans.
Cal grabbed the saddlebags, which contained an axe, a spade, a couple of hammers, nails, and some coils of fence wire. Enough to patch up any gaps they found until the scope of a proper repair job could be assessed. He pulled on his gloves and swung his leg carefully over the back of his horse. She danced for a minute, adjusting to his weight, then settled and rubbed her nose against the wooden corral.
Sarah Sullivan came out of the house carrying her doctor’s bag in one hand and a pink Hello Kitty lunch kit in the other. His mouth went dry, the way it did every time he caught sight of her. She waved and sent him a happy grin. He felt the return smile on his face even as his heart raced. Ryan came out behind her, carrying his daughter, Tabitha. The cowboy strapped his little girl in her car seat, gave her a loud smacking kiss that made her giggle, and then headed over to Cal at a jog.
Cal watched Sarah drive away.
“You should make a move there,” Ryan said as he swung aboard his horse.
Cal narrowed his eyes. “That’s your sister you’re talking about.”
Ryan snorted. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who wants to jump her.”
Cal ignored him and urged Morven into a trot past the ranch house, but Ryan wasn’t done. Something the twins had in common was the inability to hold back anything they might be thinking or feeling. Most of the time it meant Cal didn’t have to say more than two words all day, which suited him fine. But when that focus was directed at him? Look out.
“No one lives forever, brother.” The wind whispered through the nearby aspens, rattling branches and making a shiver crawl over Cal’s skin, despite his flannel shirt and sheepskin jacket. “Don’t assume she’ll still be around tomorrow.” Jesus, that thought was depressing, but Ryan had lost his childhood sweetheart to cancer, so no one knew better that life was short, and sweet could be snatched away in a heartbeat.
But Sarah Sullivan was too good for the likes of him. She was a doctor. He was an ex-con.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dug his heels into the horse’s ribs. She shot forward. Cal would be lying if he said he didn’t get satisfaction from beating Ryan to the reservoir. But the guy still wasn’t done.
“I know how you feel about her, you know. I see it every time you look at her.”
Cal winced, then shrugged. Hard to lie to a man he’d worked with daily for the last decade.
“She feels the same way.”
“She tell you that?” Cal shot Ryan a look.
“I just know.”
Cal snorted. “You’re an idiot.”
“Right back atcha, brother.”
Cal rolled his eyes even as he ran his gaze along the wire. He pointed. “There’s the problem, up there.” A tree had come down where the fence cut through a small wood.
“You bring the axe?” Ryan asked.
“Yup.”
Ryan rolled his shoulders. “Looks like we’re going to get a good workout today.”
Cal grunted. As long as he didn’t have to talk about his feelings for Sarah, that was fine.
The sound of the horses’ huffing breath in the cold morning air was accompanied by the creak of leather and the jangle of harnesses.
“Remember what you said to me after Becky died?” Ryan asked quietly.
Cal froze. That was the first time he’d heard Ryan utter his wife’s name since she passed. “I remember,” he said.
“Some
times all you can do is keep breathing…”
Cal nodded and looked straight ahead.
“You were right, Cal. Those words got me though the first few days, the first week without her—hell, maybe even the first year.” Cal glanced at Ryan who gave his head a sharp shake as if to clear it. “I don’t remember that time, at all. Just the pain, and the fact you told me to just keep on breathing.” Ryan swallowed repeatedly. Cal’s fingers tightened around the reins. “I don’t remember Tabitha as a baby—without Nat’s photographs I wouldn’t be able to picture her at all.” Ryan had totally ignored his daughter, unfairly blaming her for his wife’s death. “Becky would have had my hide for that. Fuck, imagine if she knew about the rest…”
Cal closed his eyes at the pain in his friend’s voice. It had been the worst time imaginable, and they’d almost lost Ryan too. It had taken a couple of years of drowning in alcohol and women before Ryan had come through the other side. Cal could hear the knowledge, finally, that Ryan knew he had to move on without her, without the love of his life.
No one should have to go through that.
Ryan cleared his throat. “So those words of yours actually saved me when I needed saving.” Sometimes all you can do is keep breathing… The cowboy looked out across the silver water of the reservoir, the mountains reflected in all their glory. “The thing is, eventually, you need more.”
Cal knew where this was going. He shook his head. “Nuh uh. Not everyone.”
Ryan grabbed Morven’s bridle, brought their horses to a stop and forced Cal to meet his eye. “Everyone. Even you.”
They were almost at the woods now. Cal slipped from the saddle and ducked under the mare’s head, led the horse forward and tied her to a tree branch. He wasn’t about to argue with Ryan about life or happiness or expectations. Compared to where he’d been, this was paradise, and not a day went by that he didn’t thank God for the Sullivans and the Triple H. And, if his dreams sometimes included a certain petite, sassy strawberry blonde? That was his business. Didn’t mean he had to act on it.
He took off his jacket. “Pass me the axe,” he ordered.
Ryan held it out with a grin. “As long as you don’t go all Brokeback Mountain on me.”
Cal gripped the wooden handle and braced his legs apart. “I was thinking more The Shining, asshole.”
“The Shining Asshole? Sounds awfully close to Brokeback—”
Thwack.
Cal poured his energy into the foot wide trunk of the downed birch and prayed he was man enough not to put his fist through Ryan’s pretty face. Thwack. It was great his friend was finally moving on after his own tragedy. It didn’t mean anything had changed for Cal. He didn’t expect it to.
Chapter Two
November 23rd.
SARAH SULLIVAN PUT her arms into the sleeves of her down jacket, eased her feet into sturdy winter boots, and slipped through the kitchen door. One of the ranch dogs, Blue, snuck out beside her and looked up at her with anticipation in his liquid brown eyes, as if wondering what adventure they were going on now.
She rubbed his silky ears. She was going on an adventure all right, but she had no idea how it was going to turn out. It was three AM and once again she couldn’t sleep. She’d lain there tossing and turning, thinking about her options. The problem lay about a hundred yards away in the direction of the woods. Searching for her courage, she stood looking out at the property she’d grown up on. Sullivans had worked the Triple H since her great great grandfather settled this land in 1889, the same year the state of Montana was admitted into the Union.
And this year, they’d almost lost every fence post, every single blade of grass. She’d almost lost the home she’d grown up in, her daddy’s prized horses, her mother’s fine china.
It had been a terrible time for them all, but they’d got through it. They’d persevered. They’d endured. Because that was what people who worked the land did. Their salvation had come in the form of Eliza, and Sarah couldn’t be more grateful to another human being, not just for saving the ranch but, more importantly, for loving Nat.
Her dad always said if it came easy it wasn’t worth spit. But it sure was nice to catch a break once in a while.
Sarah had always been the “good girl,” the one who worked hard, made good grades, and respected her elders. She had gone away for medical school but had missed the ranch. She’d managed to find a residency close by and moved home as soon as she’d finished her studies. Her college tuition had cost a fortune, and she owed her parents everything, but more than that, she was a homebody. She loved this land, figured it was the most beautiful place on the planet. When first her father, then Becky became ill, her medical training had helped steer them through the process and understand their options. Afterwards, with Ryan pretty much losing his mind, and then their mother suffering a heart attack, Nat had needed her, and so had her baby niece. Sarah had never regretted her decision to stay, felt almost guilty to be so blessed. She was proud of herself, of her job, and of her values, but she was sick of being the good girl. After months—if not years—of being too scared to go after what she really wanted, she’d made up her mind. She was done waiting for life to happen to her. This was her decision to make. Her heart that risked being broken.
It had snowed earlier—a foreshadowing of what was to come. This year’s spring had been so late they’d barely had time to smell the flowers before winter had flung itself at them again, but she was used to it.
The change in seasons made her all too aware she was getting older, something she no longer took for granted. She saw death on a regular basis at work—she was an ER doc at County Hospital. But the last few years had brought so much personal heartbreak she wondered how they’d all stood it—three years ago her father had passed, followed by her sister-in-law who’d been the same age as she was, and finally, this last spring, her mom… Emotion welled up inside her, but she thrust it down. Tears didn’t help. She was done waiting for thickheaded, stubborn cowboys to make a move.
A shiver of excitement lit through her as she trudged across the thin layer of new snow. It crunched beneath her boots. There was just enough to shroud the earth in white and mark her trail in a very distinct path to the door of one of the cottages. She didn’t care if anyone saw the trail. She wasn’t bothered about being subtle or secretive.
They no longer rented out the cottages to vacationers; they didn’t want strangers wandering the property until all that noise from New York City had calmed down. It wasn’t every day a mobster was shot dead on your property. So the ranch hands had moved from the bunkhouse they’d shared into a cottage each. Ezra took what had been Eliza’s cottage, and Cal moved in next door. Sarah marched determinedly to his door.
A wolf howled in the darkness, making the horses in the barn whinny. She had a shift starting at eight. She was tired, but determined. Cal was so respectful around her that if she waited for him to make a move they’d both be in rockers before he even held her hand. Instead, she was going to rock his world.
The dog wagged his tail as she climbed up the two steps and crossed the narrow porch. She opened the unlocked door and carefully slipped inside. She closed the door behind her as the dog settled himself in front of the wood stove that gave off a low heat. She quietly filled it with fresh wood. Some habits died hard in this part of the world.
She took off her boots, took a condom out of her pocket, and draped her jacket on the back of the couch. She wasn’t going to be put off with excuses. She was prepared for everything—hopefully. Even rejection if she’d mistaken reticence for indifference. Taking a deep breath, she headed for Cal’s bedroom. It was dark inside. Pitch black. She heard the quiet, regular breathing of someone in a deep sleep. The room held the seductive masculine heat of the cowboy she’d been in love with for years. She slipped the clingy wool dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Moving tentatively she found the brass bedpost—and wrapped her fingers over the cold new
el. What would she do if he rejected her? She bit her lip.
Fear of rejection had kept her worshipping this man from afar for years. Too scared to act. Too scared to make the first move. Now she was naked in his bedroom, and it was a little late for second thoughts.
She’d first seen Caleb Landon with her big brother, Nat, when he’d been thirteen years old and she’d been a wide-eyed pre-teen. He’d been the town bad boy, easy on the eyes, a glint of the devil in his smile. She’d loved him even then, although it had been pure hero worship that had made her squirm like a worm on a hook whenever her brothers had teased her about it. Cal had earned his bad boy reputation a year later in a desperate act that had taken him from their lives for ten long years. When he’d come back he’d been different. It had taken a long time for him to smile again, years for him to grow into the man he was always supposed to be.
She loved the lines on his face, the sharp features, the ultra-calm hazel eyes that noticed everything. She moved along the side of the bed, placed the condom on the side table, and eased under the duvet, slipping her hands around his chest to hug him to her. His skin was burning hot, and his breathing immediately changed. He’d woken up. She snuggled against him, her cold breasts pressed to his fiery hot skin, stretching her legs out along his much hairier ones as she eased her toes between them. She didn’t want to scare him, so she kissed his back, slowly, gently. Trailed her fingers over hard compact muscles that had tensed to steel. She moved higher and kissed his neck, nuzzling his short hair.
“Sarah?”
Well, at least he got her name right.
“Uh huh,” she murmured hoping to avoid a conversation that would end with him saying he didn’t think about her that way, he thought of her as his sister.
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