Table of Contents
Front Matter
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Back Matter
Bonus – Resisting Pressure (Chapter One)
RHONDA LEE CARVER
Urban’s Rush
2017 Rhonda Lee Carver
Copyright 2017 Rhonda Lee Carver
All rights reserved
Edited by: Todd Tinker
Cover Image: Cover Me Photography
Cover Art: Pink Ink Designs
Urban’s Choice (Book 4, Saddles & Second Chances)
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission from the author, Rhonda Lee Carver—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages written in a review. For information, please contact Rhonda Lee Carver @ [email protected].
This work is fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue in this work are from the author’s imagination and creation. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, dead or alive, is completely coincidental.
This book is for your personal pleasure. Ebooks are not transferrable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. If you have enjoyed this book and wish to share with another reader(s) please purchase another copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, purchase a copy. Thank you for appreciating the hard work the author invested into this book.
DEDICATION:
Jen Jenkins, Sara Keenan, Dianne Kenes, Cheryl McMahan, Tinna Willis, Beverly Blank, Teresa Fordice, Stacy Jordet, Jane Bassett-Nelson, Misty Dawn
To all the animal lovers of the world!
Thank you, Cheryl, for allowing me to use your name.
Blurb:
A Cowboy and a new beginning
Urban Jericho has hit a snag. He should be loving his life as a rodeo star but his passion for riding bulls, and getting knocked around, has fizzled. When he sees the opportunity for a new beginning, he’s ready to rope the chance of a lifetime. Problem is, it requires a wife…
An Ultimatum
Presley Dean has life by the reins until she’s given an ultimatum to get married or lose everything she’s worked for, everything she loves. So, when Urban comes up with a ridiculous plan that’ll get them both what they want, she considers marrying him. Up until now she’s stayed clear of the cowboy who has done nothing but rile her every chance he got…and conjured feelings she’d like to ignore. After being shot with a horse tranquilizer, she sees another side to Urban…
Saddles & Second Chances
Roman’s Choice (Book 1)
Penn’s Fortune (Book 2)
Weston’s Trouble (Book 3)
Urban’s Rush (Book 4)
Table of Contents
Front Matter
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Back Matter
Bonus – Resisting Pressure (Chapter One)
Chapter One
“You can’t be serious.” The words fell off Presley Dean’s lips in a drone tempo. She stared at her dad, Harris, across the bed of the loaded truck, hoping this was just another one of those mundane lectures. She knew the drill. Find a man. Get married. Have kids before her eggs dried up. Wa-wa-wah!
Loving him meant she had to tolerate his worry over her relationship status and his ever-present desire for her to settle down. If only he could respect the fact that she had other priorities. Most of the time, she’d listen, then shrug off the suggestion, but never had he offered to sign over the vet clinic, Dean’s Veterinary, and the land where she’d lived all her life if she tied the knot. This proposition had her at a cross between disbelief and ridiculous interest. Her dream was to own the clinic so she could put into place modern techniques and procedures, and eventually purchase new equipment to see this dream take shape. That would take money that she didn’t have and her father’s rule was “Never purchase something you can’t pay cash for.”
Although retired, Harris Dean wasn’t quite in agreement that he was ready to shift all authority, and responsibility, into his daughter’s hands. He had, however, allowed her to make subtle changes.
“You heard me right, Pres. Get married and I’ll hand over the clinic, all this land and the house over to you…where there’s plenty of room to raise my grandkids.”
“You don’t have grandkids.”
“Exactly,” he huffed.
“And what if I say no?”
“If you do I’m going to put this place up for sale, including the clinic and everything in it.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Even as the words fell off her tongue she knew he meant every word. Harris never said anything he didn’t mean.
“I would. If you won’t take some time to do the things young folks do to meet a companion then I’m going to have to force your hand. The last thing I want for you is to be old and lonely. It’s not a good quality of life, darlin’. Trust me. After your mom left I spent too much time waiting and hoping.”
“Dad, you can’t live vicariously through me. Why don’t you consider dating again? Mom has been gone for a long time. She left and you have every right to be happy.”
He gave a short shrug. “Learn from my mistakes. Live your life.”
She blinked. “If you haven’t noticed, I am living my life. I love this place. And your ultimatum is crazy considering I’m not dating, or have any man that I would even considering marrying.”
“That’s why I’m giving you six months. A beauty like you shouldn’t have a problem finding a diamond in the rough in two weeks, let alone six months.”
“You’re biased.” Realizing that she was gripping the side of the bed of the truck, she loosened her hold and stretched her fingers. Had her dad gone and lost his mind? “This proves you have no clue what the dating pool is like, especially here in Colton. Six months might as well be ten years. Around these parts, I’d have better luck finding a unicorn than a man.”
He laughed, which made the colt in the trailer snort loudly. “Honey, you’re not seeing the trees for the forest. You could have any man here that you’d like, but you choose to shoo away every available cowboy like he has the plague.”
“That’s funny,” she replied as calmly as she could. “I think you’re imagining this variety of cowboys I’m shooing away.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Name one then.”
“What about those Jericho boys? Good, hearty stock. Established. Loyal.”
She snorted. “Dad, you fail to mention that three-fifths of them are hitched, or close to snared.”
“That leaves two. What about Hugh? What are you waiting for? I remember when he used to come to the house.”
Resisting the urge to smack her forehead, she sighed. “Hugh and I dated in
high school for a whole five minutes. That’s history. And Urban…well…” There wasn’t much she could say about the brother who never took anything seriously.
“Okay.” He swiped a hand down his smooth jawline. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, my girl. Buy yourself a fancy rod and go fishing.” He picked up his saddle, dropped it in the back, and swiped his hands down his jeans.
“You don’t mean this. You’ll go away for a few days and realize you’re not really wanting to place these stipulations on me.” At least she hoped, although Harris hadn’t changed his mind since 1989 when her mother packed up and left with a ranch hand.
“Don’t count on that, girl. You’ve left me no choice but to push you into finding someone to settle down with—someone who will show you an enjoyable time before you get my age when it’s too late.”
“I’m only thirty-three. I’m not dying tomorrow, pops.”
“You don’t know that.” He flushed under his harsh tone. “I’m only saying, we never know when our end will come. Learn to live a little, darlin’. I can’t bear to see you spending all your time fixing animals and taking no time to fix yourself. Before I kick the bucket, I want to see my only child happy. Why don’t you take in the rodeo tomorrow? Lots of testosterone wearing hats and worn boots.” He winked.
“I planned to attend, but not for hats, boots, or the cowboys. I plan on taking in the auction and see who’s making bids. Ranchers who are buying are needing a good vet, right?”
“Right, I s’pose. Don’t forget Sally’s funeral. Represent the family. Pay my respects.”
“You should be going too. She was your friend.”
He waved a hand through the air as if he could wipe away her remark. “I got to get this colt back home, then I have a date with a cabin and quiet. Try out that new rod I hope.”
She wasn’t sure if he referred to her trying out the “rod as in fishing for a man” or the new one he bought last week for this trip. It didn’t matter. She rounded the front of the truck and straightened his lopsided collar, then leaned closer, sniffing. “Dad, are you wearing cologne? You trying to smell good for the owner or do you have something sly going on?”
He grumbled something under his breath, patted her on the shoulder, and hurried to the driver’s side. She hid a smile with tight lips. If he was interested, or even seeing someone, she doubted he would tell her. Harris was loyal to a fault, although his wife left long ago. “Keep in mind what I said, girl.” He tipped his hat, climbed into the truck and stuck his head out through the open window. “Don’t be hard-headed. Love you. See you in a few days.”
Although angry at him for his ultimatum, she couldn’t let him leave without telling him she loved him too. They were all they each had in the world and she couldn’t have things wonky between them. As convoluted as his ideas were, she knew, without a doubt, that he had good intentions. He was a man with old fashioned beliefs and never apologized for his values. He was raised thinking a woman needed a man, and a man needed a woman, but Presley liked being single. Sure, there were moments she missed having someone to laugh with, having a man’s arms wrapped around her instead of the warmth that a battery-operated toy could offer. A man usually wanted his partner to be active in their relationship, and Presley just didn’t have the time or the desire. Truth be known, she’d rather spend her time with livestock and horses. Less chance of getting hurt. She owned the corner market on pain. Her mother made sure of that when she left without a backward glance.
Presley sighed at her dilemma.
Hell, if her dad had his way, she’d get hitched tomorrow.
No, he couldn’t hold her to something so ludicrous as finding a husband in six months.
Could he?
Yes, he could. And would.
But how does a woman search for a husband?
Still pondering her quandary, she headed down to the clinic and found Cheryl already sitting at the receptionist desk, the phone tucked between her ear and chin as she typed away at the keyboard…multitasking as usual. As a receptionist, she was spectacular. As an assistant, she was a bit rusty, but Presley was optimistic that her friend of thirty years would learn the skill. After all, she was attending the community college to earn a certificate in veterinarian assistance to make the position here at the clinic permanent. After the last assistant left, Cheryl had voiced her desire to take over the job and Presley liked the idea of having her best friend around. When she’d divorced her husband last year and needed an income, Presley had offered her some money, but Cheryl wanted to work.
It was nice having a support system around, especially on the days like today when Presley was agitated.
Stopping to grab her messages written on pink, heart-shaped sticky notes, she heard Cheryl say to the person on the phone, “Yes, Mrs. Dawson. I understand. I have you down for a one-thirty appointment Thursday. Yes. Sure thing. If anything changes…yes, yes…I’ll call.”
Presley poured coffee into her favorite mug that read “Vets do it best” and pointed toward her office door, leaving Cheryl to finish calming Mrs. Dawson who brought her pet in nearly every week. The retired school teacher never had any children so her dog was her baby and the twelve-year old Shorkie was suffering from arthritis. Normally, Dean Vet didn’t exam small animals, but recently Presley had opened her doors to new clients to keep them from traveling out of town for pet care.
Inside her office, she dropped into the worn chair behind her desk, getting poked by a broken spring. With a moan, she scribbled “buy a new chair” on a sticky note and stuck it to her computer screen, then clicked the power button. Pulling up her emails, she scrolled down the list, hitting delete as she went along. She didn’t need Viagra, weight loss supplements, nor did she want to join a dating site, although she was on a timeline now.
Cheryl stepped in, clearing her throat. “Good morning.”
“Is it?” Presley grumbled, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Well, at least it was for me.”
“Ah, that’s right. You had a date with that hockey player. Was it love at first sight?”
“Could have been if he liked having his meat cut up and reminded not to talk with his mouth full.”
Presley winced. “The mom thing got in the way again?”
“I’ve been mom, only mom, for so long. I don’t know how to find that inner goddess I keep reading about in Cosmopolitan.” She gave her long hair a saucy flip.
“Maybe it’s hidden underneath soccer games, lunch packing, and an ex who believes he can date his college students.”
“You should see the new flavor of the week. She wore her cheer outfit to practice last night and when Bailey scored a goal, she actually did the splits. I couldn’t do splits when I was nineteen. Anyway, I’m sure I have panties older than her.”
Presley gave her a sympathetic smile. “Cheer up. Your ex is her problem now.” Back to her emails, she groaned. “How is it possible that I get so much spam?” She swiveled her chair and picked up her pen, clicking it with restless energy. “Do I have any appointments scheduled this morning?”
“Yes. Weston Jericho is picking up Salamander, and then later, Georgia Banks is bringing in her poodle who is sick.”
Presley rubbed her temples, hoping the ache didn’t grow into a migraine, and then she stood. Exiting through the door that joined her office and the stables, the mare, Salamander, greeted her with a friendly snort and a paw to the dirt floor. “Hi there, sweet thing.” She nuzzled the girl behind the ear. “Your leg is all fine now.”
Cheryl followed her. “So, what’s eating you this morning? Those worry lines around your eyes could be mistaken for trenches.”
“Oh, just the usual. Lack of sleep, worried about getting the technician out here to fix the x-ray machine and my father is demanding I take a husband. That’s all.”
The other woman laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Presley spun around. “He thinks we live in medieval times. This time, though, he’s made
an offer I can’t refuse. He’ll sign over the business and the land to me.”
Cheryl stayed quite for a good five seconds. “Seriously?”
“He says if I don’t he’s planning on selling. That can’t happen.” She grabbed the food bucket from underneath the work table and opened the lid to the feed, scooping enough for the horse who had her ears popped up.
“He’s made this a weekly argument, but he’s never used the land and business as leverage.”
“Right. I think he realizes that’s the only influence he has to use.” Presley reached for the hose from the hook and unwound it, stretching it across the space to the stall where the mare watched with bright, milky brown eyes. “You know how he is, Cheryl. I don’t think there’s any changing his mind.” Her head throbbed at the mere mention of losing everything she’d worked for—wished for. Growing up, while other kids were out with friends, dating, going to the movies and dances, Presley had been here with her father, watching him work with the animals, saving lives, delivering fur babies. She’d learned fifty percent of her knowledge before she even left for veterinary school. Even these days, while others were having fun, she worked, showing ranchers and farmers a new, scientific approach to breeding and caring for livestock. Some of the locals had taken on the modern way, and some dug their feet in like they were protecting themselves from a disaster.
“He will sell the place? Pres, that’s huge.”
“Tell me about it.” She opened the stall and rinsed out the trough, then filled it with fresh water and in the process, she sprayed herself soaking the front of her shirt and jeans. Hazards of the job.
“What are you going to do?”
Presley shrugged. “He’s given me six months. I have a little time.”
“I don’t know how you’re so calm over this. If I were in your shoes I’d be frantic.”
“Cheryl, you and I both know you were frantic marrying Raymond and you did it at your own free will.” Presley laughed, remembering how her friend had sobbed like a baby minutes before walking down the aisle.
Urban's Rush (Saddles & Second Chances Book 4) Page 1
