The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek)

by Cora Seton

  The two men conferred a moment and Jake headed off toward the barn. Holt turned her way, and Hannah turned back to the pasture quickly for a final look at Gladys before heading on to work. The bison did seem happy here, although perhaps a little lonely.

  “I’d like a word with you.”

  Hannah jumped when Holt spoke up right behind her. Would she get another lecture about the uselessness of bison? Or would he attack her from a different angle today? Holt had never liked her.

  “Isn’t she pretty?” She jutted her chin at Gladys.

  “She looks pretty tasty.” Holt pushed his hat to a better position on his forehead. “I’ve always loved bison meat.” He had the slow drawl of a Montana rancher which only increased her irritation at his words.

  “She’s not for eating; she’s a pet. She was raised by hand.”

  “I don’t see how that figures into it.”

  “Holt…”

  “Now don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle, hear me out.” Holt still stood as straight as he ever had. Only a stiffness in the way he walked betrayed the fact that his years were beginning to wear on him. All the days he’d spent working outside in the sun had tanned his skin and deepened the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but he was still a handsome man in a tough, no-nonsense way. She knew Jake, Ned and Luke did most of the physical labor around here, but Holt still thought of himself as the ruler of this roost, and when he said jump, everyone around him asked, “How high?”

  She was not one of those people. She’d be polite because she was polite to everyone, but she wouldn’t allow Holt to boss her around.

  “Go ahead,” she said coolly.

  “I have something you want. A long-term pasture for that beast of yours.”

  Hannah raised an eyebrow. He was right; she did want that, but she knew Holt never did a favor when he could extract a payment. She wondered where this was going.

  “I’ll let you keep your bison on this ranch for the rest of its natural life if you’ll do one thing for me.”

  He had Hannah’s full attention. A place for Gladys forever? She’d been searching far and wide for a suitable home for the animal, but no one within a hundred miles had a place for her. There were a few ranches far to the west who might take her, but the cost was high and she’d rarely get to see the bison, and… well… she’d gotten a bit attached to her.

  Okay, a lot attached.

  “What would I have to do?” Holt’s weathered face was angular, his eyes bright with intelligence and cunning. She wasn’t sure she could trust him, but his offer intrigued her.

  “Sleep with my son for two weeks.”

  Hannah’s jaw dropped open. Her cheeks flushed to what she was sure was a brilliant red. Had Holt lost his mind? Had she? He couldn’t have said that out loud.

  Could he?

  “You heard me right, but you can get your mind out of the gutter.” Holt’s laconic tone was shaded with a hint of laughter at her expense. “I said sleep with him, not screw him. What you two get up to is on your conscience. All I ask is that you share a bed.”

  “I… what…?” She glanced around wildly, wondering if anyone else had overheard him. Surely this had to be a joke. Would Holt’s youngest son, Rob, come rushing out with a video camera? He was always playing practical jokes.

  “Sleep with my son for fourteen consecutive nights. All night. That’s it. Your bison gets a pasture, food, and shelter for the rest of her life. What do you say?”

  She sputtered, searching for something to say that encompassed the depth of her anger that he’d even speak to her this way. She settled on sarcasm. “Two weeks? I’ll have to check my calendar. Some other guy’s father might have extorted me to sleep with him one of those nights.”

  Holt chuckled. “Just how many bison do you have stashed around the ranches in these parts?”

  “I don’t need to listen to this.”

  “By the way, the son in question is Jake.” He eyed her sharply and Hannah felt the heat creep up her cheeks all over again.

  Jake?

  An image of them together in bed—naked, disheveled—flashed into her mind and her body tingled with the idea of it. She and Jake could have a lot of fun between the sheets.

  She forced the thought out of her head. “Not interested.”

  “Then I guess I’ll get my pasture back sooner than I thought. And I’ll have to find some other woman to get my son’s mind on marriage.”

  “Damn it, Holt—that’s not fair.”

  “Which part isn’t? The part where I eat your bison or the part where another woman sleeps with my son?”

  Hannah fought mightily against the urge to slug him. “Even if I did this—which I won’t,” she assured him, “how would you know? Are you going to bug his bedroom?”

  “Nah,” Holt said. “You’ll report to me every morning, look me in the eye and tell me if you slept with him or not.” Her eyes widened and Holt guffawed. “No way a girl with your color hair can tell a lie. Your face gives you away every time.”

  He was right, damn it. The pale, pale complexion that went with her white-blond hair meant that every flush showed like her face had been slapped. She made it a point not to lie because like Holt said, she couldn’t get away with it. If she faced this man after a night with his son she’d be scarlet.

  Like she was right now.

  “How would I even get him to agree to it?” she asked, even though the question was ludicrous. She was not sleeping with Jake, no matter what the reward. Not on his father’s say-so. She turned back to Gladys, mostly to get away from Holt’s sardonic grin.

  “Reckon that’s your problem. You’re a clever girl, you’ll think of something.”

  “What do you get out of it?” Why was she even having this conversation? Because she was as crazy as Holt? Because she was worried about Gladys?

  Because she wanted to sleep with Jake?

  Did she ever. How many times in the last few weeks had she dreamed of unbuttoning one of Jake’s work shirts and smoothing her hands over his hard chest? How many times had she dreamed of unbuttoning her own shirt and pressing up against him, feeling her skin on his? Ever since the wedding, Jake had been on her mind. More than she cared to admit.

  “I get to remind my son he’s a man,” Holt said. “Seems like he’s forgotten that. No sense passing on control of the ranch to him if he doesn’t intend to get an heir.”

  “He’s not getting an heir with me,” Hannah snapped, stepping away from him. “I don’t plan to have children anytime soon.”

  “No one asked you to. You just need to prime the pump, so to speak.”

  “I’m not having sex with him, either.”

  “Like I said, what you get up to is your call. No man can spend two weeks in bed with a pretty woman without getting a notion or two. I suspect that’s all it’ll take to get him thinking about the benefits of settling down.”

  Hannah shook her head, the wooden railing under her hand splintery and cold in the November morning. “I didn’t say I’d do it.”

  Holt smiled. “You didn’t walk away, either.”

  “You fix that leak yet?” Holt asked.

  When his father walked into the living room, Jake set his beer down carefully on the small end table and leaned back on the comfortable couch before the fire. He generally stayed for a drink after eating dinner at the main house with his parents and his brothers, Ned and Luke. His third brother, Rob, and Rob’s wife, Morgan, had just moved back onto the ranch until they built a permanent home, but they tended to eat in their own cabin, so he didn’t see them as much. When the meal was over, in good weather he’d sit out on the front porch and let his gaze wander over the land his family owned. In the winter he found a place in front of the fire in their formal living room. His brothers had already returned to their cabins, but Jake lingered. In a short time he’d head over to Ethan and Autumn’s poker night. Meanwhile he wanted to plan his strategy to convince Hannah to marry him in the next thirty days.

>   “Yes.”

  “You sure you got it at the source? The water will find another way in if…”

  “Dad, I got it,” Jake cut him off.

  Holt eased himself onto the other end of the couch. “Don’t you forget who made this ranch what it is today.”

  Jake knew exactly who had made this ranch what it was. His father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, stretching back up the line of Mathesons for over a hundred and fifty years. That made him prouder than he could say about taking his place on the ranch. But along with being excellent cattlemen, Mathesons were also known for being hardheaded. Holt certainly was. “I’m supposed to be managing the herd. That’s my responsibility. I’ve got to be able to do things my way.”

  “I’ve got a sight more experience with cattle than you do.”

  “Dad, I can’t second-guess myself out there. You must know what it’s like—you took over from Grandpa.”

  Holt snorted. “Your grandpa called the shots until he was in his grave. And then some. The day after we buried him I found a schedule he’d written out for the next two months. I followed it, too. I was afraid if I didn’t he’d claw himself back out of the ground and give me a whupping!”

  Jake chuckled despite himself. “You didn’t mind that he kept bossing you around?”

  “Of course I minded. My father was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. It’s different for you.”

  “Different how?”

  “I’m as sweet as maple syrup compared to him.”

  “Sure thing, Dad. Sweet enough to kick me off the ranch if I don’t marry in thirty days.”

  Holt shot him a look. “I’m helping you get something you actually want. You just don’t know it yet. Now what about that bison? You found somewhere for it to go?”

  Jake heaved a sigh and decided to ignore the first part of that statement. He took a swig of his beer and gazed out through the windows. “I want to start a herd.”

  “Start a herd of what?” Holt leaned forward and held out his hands toward the fire.

  “A herd of bison.”

  Holt straightened up. “Now that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  Figured. Holt wasn’t one to jump on new ideas, which was one reason Jake was feeling so fed up these days. “Dumb how?”

  “The Double-Bar-K trades in cattle, not bison. Always has, always will.”

  Jake sighed as a familiar restlessness overtook him. Would he ever be able to introduce a single innovation on the ranch while his father was alive? Some days he wondered if he was stupid for staying here. But he couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t. The very dirt of this place made the framework of his soul. None of those Mathesons before him had taken off when times got tough. He didn’t mean to be the first. “We can do both. Bison meat is becoming popular. It’s good for you. You can charge twice as much for it, too.”

  “That’s because it’s twice as much work.” Holt eyed him. “What’s really behind this? A pretty girl with white-blond hair?”

  “No. You’re dead wrong there,” Jake lied. He fixed his father with a hard look. “And just for the record, they’re half as much work, not twice as much. They don’t need all the extra tending in winter our herd does.”

  “Stick to what you know, boy.” Holt stared into the fire. “If you’re smart you’ll shoot that bison yourself, eat it and be done with it.”

  “You done lecturing me for tonight? Haven’t you made my life miserable enough for one day?”

  “You think getting a wife will make you miserable? Getting married was the best thing I ever did. A man can’t run this place by himself. He needs a woman by his side. Someone like your mother—hardworking, level-headed, tough as nails. I’ve waited a long time for you to get to the matter on your own. I didn’t think I needed to play the kind of games I did with Rob.”

  “I would have loved to play that game. Where’s my two hundred acres?” A couple of months back Holt had made the announcement that the first son to get married would get a parcel of land for his very own. Then he’d turned right around and told Jake, Ned and Luke they weren’t eligible to win the contest. He’d known Rob was on the verge of flying the coop, so he used the ruse to trap him at home. It had pretty much worked. Rob proposed right away to Morgan Tate and brought her from Victoria to Chance Creek. Now he owned property on both the Cruz and Matheson ranches, but while he was building his home on the Cruz side of the property line, he still helped out on the Matheson side, too, and he lived here in the meantime. Not across town or in another county. Holt was satisfied.

  Holt dipped his chin. “You don’t need two hundred acres. You’ll share the whole damn ranch with Ned and Luke.”

  “If I marry within a month. Otherwise, you’ll kick me out and the whole place will go to ruin. You know damn well Ned can’t manage his way out of a paper bag. No way can he run the herd.”

  “You’d be surprised what Ned can do. A good manager knows the strengths and weaknesses of his workers. You’re so blind you can’t even see your own brother.”

  “I see Ned. I see that he’s a hothead who’s as liable to burn the barn down as fix its leak.”

  “Ned’s quick with his anger, but he’s quick with his wits, too.”

  “Yeah. That’s why he didn’t make it past eighth grade.”

  Holt was silent a long moment. “I didn’t make it past eighth grade, either, and I’ve done a sight more with my life than you have. Get a wife, Jake. Or get out.”

  Holt rose to his feet and walked stiffly away, leaving Jake to wish again he’d kept his mouth shut. Both Holt and Ned had a way of pushing his buttons until the basest part of him took control. His father treated him like he was still fifteen years old, and he inevitably ended up acting that way. Something had to change. His whole family needed a new way of doing things.

  Jake chuckled to himself grimly. That wasn’t likely to happen. A few minutes later he let himself out into the dark and strode the quarter mile to his own cabin. His parents had built a small two bedroom structure for each of their sons when they turned twenty, hoping that would encourage them to stay on the ranch and eventually settle there. He had always appreciated the measure of independence it gave him, while still keeping him close to his work. Now he recognized it for the trap it was.

  For years Holt had paid him and his brothers a tiny allowance and gave them room and board in exchange for their work on the ranch. Since they each expected to inherit a share in the spread, and had enough for their trucks and nights out on the town, they hadn’t felt poor. They’d been raised to value ranching and family above all else. To an outsider it probably looked like they were at each other’s throats all the time, but although they fought like wolves, they were as clannish as a wolf pack, too. Faced with any outside threat, they formed ranks and presented a united front.

  It was Rob who finally shook things up enough for them to come to their senses and demand real wages for the work they did. That was a recent development, however. Jake still didn’t have much cash. If he struck out on his own it would take him years to save up enough to buy a new spread, and even then it wouldn’t replace the Double-Bar-K in his heart. No, he’d stay and figure this out.

  If it killed him.

  He stood in his small, sterile kitchen and listened to the ticking of the clock on the wall. If he didn’t get married—fast—he might lose the life he loved so much. And damn it, he wanted a wife. He wanted Hannah. He wanted a family, too.

  But he also wanted more than that. Unlike his father or brothers, Jake believed whole-heartedly in innovation and he wanted to be a part of it. Scientists all around the world were talking about the earth’s climate changing and Jake knew that every facet of modern life played into that—including the ranching practices he and his family employed. He wanted to be a part of that discussion. He wanted to experiment with his own herd and ranch. He read all he could, hung out on online forums, and watched the latest talks and movies on YouTube about the subject. But until Holt ba
cked off and let him run things the way he wanted to, he’d remain a bystander in the shift to brand-new ranching practices.

  Holt actively resisted all changes to the way things were done on the Double-Bar-K. He distrusted innovation and his dyslexia and bad experience with school had turned him against most forms of education, too. When Jake had talked of going to college after graduating from high school, Holt put an end to that idea by threatening to disown him if he did.

  Well, it was his own fault for not sticking up to the man. Holt hadn’t kept him here at gunpoint, after all. He could see now that if he’d demanded to go there would have been all kinds of fuss and bother, but it would have blown over in time. He wished he’d stood up to his father back then. It was too late now. Jake picked up his pace. Time to quit feeling sorry for himself and get a move on. He’d see Hannah at the Cruz ranch tonight for Thursday night poker and pool.

  Holt was right about one thing; he had wasted a lot of time. If getting a wife would bring him one step closer to taking over the Double-Bar-K, he’d ask Hannah out before the night was over, just as he’d already planned.

  And marry her before the month was up.

  ‡

  Chapter Two

  Hannah tried to slip in through the front door of the Cruz guest ranch Big House without being noticed, but just like every other time she failed utterly. The Big House was an imposing structure with large windows that overlooked a sweeping view of the ranch and the mountains far in the distance. Originally designed as a private home, Autumn and Ethan Cruz had transformed it into a guest lodge earlier in the year. Their business had done fairly well so far, but as fall turned into winter, the guests had dropped off and they had no bookings at all for the coming weeks.

  That was bad for the Cruzes, but good for Hannah, who’d needed a place to stay when she’d broken up with Cody. Ethan and Autumn charged her a very reasonable rent for one of the pretty guest rooms upstairs. At first she’d wondered if it would be strange living with the Cruzes, but she’d found it comfortable so far. Though Ethan and Autumn were in and out of the main floor all the time during the day, they slept down at the converted bunkhouse at night. The bedrooms at the Big House were meant for guests, not family. Hannah knew they intended to build an addition onto the main floor that would make up their personal quarters just as soon as they could afford it, but that hadn’t happened yet. For now they used the fantastic Big House kitchen and living room during the day and retired to the bunkhouse at bedtime.