by Kaliana Cole
Good Horses, Fast Cars and Real Men
Nate, Brett and Matt Kelly desired one girl and one girl only until she disappeared from their lives, leaving a wake of shattered dreams.
Fourteen years later, Jade Douglas returns a broken shell of a woman, hiding from the past, struggling to build a future on the dilapidated horse stud her father left her. The Kelly brothers see her return as the answer to their dreams. Jade sees them as a threat to the brittle, protective walls she has built around her.
Nate is overbearing and protective but always her safe harbor. Darkly sensual Brett holds the key to her submission. Big Matty has a body to die for and a heart to live by.
But are they enough to heal her?
After false starts, emotional breakdowns, torrid erotic experiences, and a journey of sensual self-discovery, Jade finds her place in life amid good horses, fast cars, and real men.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 89,604 words
GOOD HORSES, FAST CARS AND REAL MEN
Kaliana Cole
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
GOOD HORSES, FAST CARS AND REAL MEN
Copyright © 2011 by Kaliana Cole
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-557-6
First E-book Publication: July 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Regarding E-book Piracy
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This is Kaliana Cole’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Cole’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
This one’s for K.J.
Some friends are like good knickers. They cover your ass when you really need it.
You’re the best.
And to all who read this story; thank you, and enjoy.
GOOD HORSES, FAST CARS AND REAL MEN
KALIANA COLE
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 1
Jade Douglas lay back in the sturdy old two-seater and propped her boots on the veranda rail, tired muscles screaming a protest at the stretch through her hamstrings. The smooth velvet of Kenny Chesney coming softly from the stereo had her feeling decidedly mellow.
Ten days and six hours, she told herself, looking at the clock marking six up on the wall. Not enough time for her body to have adapted to the grueling workload she forced upon it day after day.
The scotch was going down smooth as the late April sun sinking below the rim of the valley set the icy eastern ridges on fire with its dying light. The mountain dusk took her breath away.
It was fourteen long years since she had last called Wyoming home. The foothills ranch had fallen into disrepair, but she, too, had changed. For better or worse she was back. A lot more cynical, definitely older, and hopefully more than a little wiser. She knew she would be questioning the wiser part soon enough, it had been a long time since she had frozen her ass off for five months of the year.
The corrals had been empty when she had arrived. Harry had been managing the place since God was an infant and was not up to much more than caretaking these days. Her father had died two years ago, and it had been a few years earlier that anyone had done anything more than basic husbandry with the horse herds the stud had once been renowned for.
Now they were in some type of order. The colts, some of them full-grown stallions, were in the secure south paddock awaiting the vet. By this time tomorrow most would be geldings. The brood mares had all been evaluated, had their over grown foals weaned, and been returned to the hill paddock before rejoining later in the spring. The young stock had been put aside for the moment, all desperately in need of handling and breaking, although Jade had selected two exceptional three-year-old fillies to start on right away. Once educated, their sale would generate enough income to conduct some very necessary repairs around the farm.
But for now she had her priorities in the forefront of her mind. Avoid the Kelly boys, find out what had happened to Toby, who should have arrived days ago, and avoid the Kelly boys.
Actually, one fat horse going AWOL during transit wasn’t nearly as important as the other two.
Nate, Brett, and Matthew Kelly had grown up on the neighboring property. Nate was three years older than Jade, Brett the same age, and Matty two years younger.
They had all been inseparable growing up, but the scars of a hard childhood had left its mark on the boys. Their father had been an attractive, laughing, charming man—when he was sober. When drinking he could go from life of the party to a towering rage in a split second. “That Irish Kelly temper” people would say sagely when they heard Patrick had flown off the handle again. Their blind stupidity had made Jade’s teeth ache. They hadn’t huddled in the dark with the boys, Nate ignoring a black eye or cracked ribs while he tried to calm Brett down who would be seething in his own deep pit of rage, muttering incoherently about killing his own father. And sweet Matty would be acting like it was all a normal part of life, smiling through his tears when Nate would herd them through the Douglas’s front door when things got to
o rough at home.
Things had gotten too rough for their mother, a sweet, beautiful lady who had been much taken with the handsome and charming Patrick Kelly. She had left when Matty was twelve, taking his little eight-year-old sister, Lizzie, with her, along with horrendous bruising, several broken bones, and an all but broken spirit. She had moved back to Kentucky where her family had closed ranks around them.
But a bond had been formed between the four of them in those dark times, born of silence and necessity, one that neither time nor distance could sever. Isolated, even in within a rural area, they learned to depend on each other in a way the other kids, and some adults, could not comprehend.
Nate and Jade had always had that instant sexual tension that sprung up whenever they were in proximity. Jade felt like she had spent her entire adolescent years trying to find a way into his bed, and she could guarantee Nate had spent the same amount of time resisting the temptation to cave to her advances. Jade had to admit most of those had all the subtlety of a thermonuclear weapon.
Brett had always made her ready to fight either him or whoever was stupid enough to rile him up, but mostly him. Possessed of an unreasonable temper, inherited from his father, small things could set him into an overwhelming rage.
He had never passed up a chance to rile her up, not happy unless she was wild with him. In retrospect, she figured the little shit was probably happy to have someone around who had worse self-control than he did.
Every protective instinct in her had always sprung to the fore for Matthew. Even when he had topped six-four and towered over her by nearly a foot, anyone who picked on Matty Kelly had Jade Douglas to deal with, and that was a fact his brothers had ended up on the wrong side of more than once. Even as an overgrown kid, Matt’s chest and shoulders made the best place to lay a battered heart. Being held by him was like being engulfed in a warm cloud of solace, his big frame all give and no take.
But that had all come to a screaming halt two days after her eighteenth birthday. Nightmares of flashing hooves, broken timber, blood, and pain still haunted her occasionally, testament to an event that nobody but her knew about, an event that would see the loss of the Kelly boy’s friendship and very likely the loss of her freedom, as in twenty-five to life.
But Jade had shown her hometown a clean pair of heels four days after she turned eighteen. She had only run into the boys a few very uncomfortable times and had gone out of her way not to keep up with news of them.
Jade drained her glass and looked down at the scarred old hound that had wandered in two days after she had arrived. Harry claimed to have never seen her before, but with his rheumy old eyes, the damn thing could have been living in his kitchen, and he wouldn’t have seen it.
The old girl lifted a brow under the scrutiny. “Hungry?” Jade asked, wincing as she lowered her legs and stood. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
Jade headed in to the kitchen and put kibble in the bowl by the door, watching in amazement as the dog inhaled the food. The hound had been with her over a week, and the poor thing still acted like every meal would be its last. Jade had been feeding her three times a day to try to put weight on her without risking bloat with large meals.
When she had first arrived, Jade had thought her a Dane-deerhound cross, but with a little weight on the old girl, there appeared to be something a little more substantial in her far from blue-blooded pedigree. She had contacted the local radio station, but so far, no one had put in a “lost” to match her “found.”
Last night’s spaghetti took only a moment to nuke and not much longer to eat. Giving the remaining leftovers to the mutt, Jade took a quick shower, disdaining the pint-size bathtub in which she would have to contort herself like a pretzel to fit. Nothing would be better than to soak away the aches and pains in a deep bath full of salts, feeling them leech the tiredness away from her protesting muscles, but it was not to be.
After slathering on moisturizer, throwing on track pants and an old sweatshirt, Jade called the old dog, grabbed a jacket, and headed out to have a quick check on the colts. Their securely fenced paddock backed on to the house yard. While the hound sniffed around and went about her business, Jade leaned against the top rail surveying the horseflesh in the gathering dusk.
The bachelor herd was comprised of twenty-two colts and stallions. Tomorrow, she would have to match the ill-kept foaling records with the animals in front of her. The older ones had been branded at weaning and would be easier, but the last two years worth would be relying on Harry’s illegible notes, and thankfully, much better memory to ensure they were properly identified, branded, and registered.
Curious creatures that they were, the colts began to drift over, the more daring ones extending their muzzles to sniff at her stationary form. Jade noted the bolder animals, and those who bossed at their neighbors, beginning to recognize individual traits that marked the different personalities. The ones with stud potential stood out clearly beneath her scrutiny, as did those who would make superb geldings and the few who may find themselves on a list of culls destined for anonymous sale at a public auction somewhere a long way from Miller’s Creek.
A big blood bay pushed through the other colts to stand boldly before her, the younger colts scattering to his obvious dominance. Jade ran a practiced gaze eye over him. The back of her neck prickled as she realized that something special was standing before her.
His conformation was outstanding. The magnificent animal possessed a deep chest, strong, flat bone through the legs, nice sloping shoulders, and was coupled-up well behind. An intelligent head and bold eye topped a well-arched neck that was admittedly a little heavy from being a stallion for some time. She estimated him to be around eight, a fact she would check tomorrow when there was enough light to see the brand on his shoulder. His age was a worrying factor, but much depended on his pedigree. If he had enough breeding to back up his impressive appearance, the big bay just may have a chance at keeping the crown jewels, providing his temperament was up to scratch.
She began humming a tune, softly at first, gradually increasing in volume so as to not startle the big horse before her. The melody resolved itself into Chesney’s “Anything But Mine,” although distinctly off-key compared to the original she had been listening to earlier on the veranda. Moving slowly and smoothly, Jade managed to straighten without the stallion doing anything more than tossing his regal-looking head.
As she began to sing louder about there being “so much that I long to do to you,” the horse came closer, his velvety muzzle poking at her face while she struggled not to laugh, all the time watching his eyes and ears warily for any sign that he meant to assert his dominance and take a chunk out of her. The bristles of his muzzle hair contrasted with the softest velvet on the sides as he played with a strand of damp hair that had escaped the rough bun she had piled her hair into. But to her wonder, he only sniffed at her before his attention was diverted by a whinny in the distance. He roared an answer as he galloped off into the gloom.
Feeling a little unbalanced by the encounter, Jade whistled the old hound to her side and headed inside, deciding to turn in for the night. Tossing and turning fitfully, she slept in snatches before getting up at four a.m., when she figured that there would be no more sleep tonight.
Chapter 2
Caffeine and more caffeine later, Jade was as ready to face the day as she was going to get. Leaving the old dog in the house yard, she headed out into the frosty morning mist. Steam was rising from beast and ground alike as she gave Harry a hand to throw some hay out and lure the colts into the handling yards. With the foaling books on hand, Jade sat on the fence with the old man and made some preliminary identifications while she waited for the vet. The quality of the young stock was gratifyingly high. Her purchase of the Irish sport horse sire “Dancer” before she had left had put a nice amount of substance into the eventers the stud was famous for.
By the time the dust cloud heralded the arrival of the vet, at least half were positive
ly identified, including her big bay friend from last night who turned out to be a seven-year-old by Dancer. Providing he didn’t overreact to the trauma of being vetted today, he would get a reprieve from gelding for this first round.
A new and expensive four-wheel drive with “Miller’s Creek Veterinary Hospital” emblazoned on the side pulled up next to the undercover treatment area. The tall, brunette young woman stepping down from the driver’s seat was not who Jade had expected. Doc Johnson was short, round, and male. The young woman confidently stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Elly Johnson.”
“How are you?” Jade accepted the hand readily. “I was expecting Doc.”
Elly laughed. “Doc hasn’t been near a horse for years. He says he is too old to handle anything bigger than a cocker spaniel. Since I married his son two years ago, he quite happily handed all the callouts over to me.”
She began hauling equipment out of the vehicle. Deciding to leave the interrogation for later, Jade assisted Elly, admiring her calm assurance.
Looking around to see if Harry was in ear shot, the leggy brunette leaned in toward her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have enlisted some help today. The last time I got called out here I had to try and stitch up a badly cut leg on a filly that had never had a hand on it. Harry wasn’t quite up to restraining her enough for sedation. One of the local men gives me a hand when I need a bit of muscle.” She looked up at Jade with a grin. “God knows he’s got plenty of that.”
