A Cowboy To Keep: A Contemporary Western Romance Collection

by Hebby Roman

  “I did fall.” Her eyes widened. “Damn.” She began to laugh.

  He offered a hand, which she took, and as he stood he brought her to her feet as well.

  “Are you hiking?” he asked.

  She twisted to dust off her backside, and the movement only served to accentuate her t-shirt and her very nice female attributes. He shifted his gaze just in the nick of time before she swung her attention back to him. “Kind of.” She extended a palm. “Audrey Driggs. I’m an investigator for Heritage Archaeology. And you must be a real-life cowboy.”

  He gripped her hand, then released it. “What gave it away?”

  She released a breezy laugh along with a subtle smirk. “The hat. I noticed you and your boys yesterday. Are you doing some sort of round up?”

  “Yep.” He readjusted the Stetson. “I’m Braden Delaney.”

  “Delaney?” Her eyebrows lifted in recognition and bright hazel eyes held him spellbound. “Then you own the grazing leases in this area.”

  Shaking off his fascination, he nodded. Technically his mother owned them, but since his dad had passed away two months ago, he’d all but taken over management of Delaney Ranches. “Are you an archaeologist?”

  “Actually, I’m a biological anthropologist.”

  She rested hands on hips, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes on her face. What a goddamned distracting t-shirt.

  He was twenty-eight years old; it wasn’t like he’d never seen a woman’s breasts before.

  Irritated, he asked, “Why are you out here?”

  “The firm I work for was contracted by the State Land Department to assess possible prehistoric sites in the area. I was hunting around on that ledge up there when I fell. Sometimes I forget to look around when I’m focused on something.”

  “Sounds dangerous. You ought to be more careful.” Her presence nagged him, though. “You think there’s Indian ruins out here?”

  “Not sure. The State had some info that there’d been signs of possible artifacts, and they wanted an assessment done.”

  “Does that mean my leases will be revoked if you find something?”

  Ms. Driggs shrugged. “I can’t speak to that, I’m afraid. I guess it all depends on what I dig up. Well, I should probably be getting back. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Delaney.”

  “Same here.”

  She moved but released an unladylike grunt as her leg gave out. His arm shot out to steady her. “Easy.”

  “I’m fine, really. I think I just twisted my knee.”

  Stepping away from him, she attempted to walk again, but her face scrunched into a grimace, and she groaned in clear frustration.

  “Do you have a campsite set up somewhere?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s up over that hill a few miles.”

  “That’s kind of far. You did a lot of scouting today. I’ve got my horse. I can take you to my basecamp. I’ve got some ace bandages you can use to wrap that knee, and I can offer you dinner.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother. You could just drop me at my tent.”

  “If you’ve got a bum leg, how will you get around? Where’s your car?”

  She released a pent-up breath. “It’s on that access road to the south.”

  “That’s even farther away. It’s getting late. Skip, one of my men, can have a look at your leg.”

  Ms. Driggs paused, clearly considering her options.

  “My men are a good bunch, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She bit her lower lip and bobbed her head in silent agreement.

  “And I’ll bring you back to your camp tonight if you want, or you can stay over. We’ve got several trailers.”

  “You and your men probably know this area pretty well, right?”

  She watched him more closely, no doubt sizing him up. He returned her gaze, narrowing his eyes at the lovely dirt-digger.

  “We do,” he replied.

  “All right then. I’d be happy to accept your offer of food, medical attention, and possible lodging. But first, I’ve got one request.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Could you get my pack off that ledge?”

  Braden craned his head back. “We could circle around and come at it the back way. Let me get my horse.”

  He’d rescued more than a calf today. He hoped he wouldn’t regret the distraction. Not only did he need to get this roundup completed, he had the issue of Whisper Rock to deal with. And his mother wasn’t going to like it.

  As the sun began to set, he guided his horse through clusters of ponderosa pines in search of a backpack while the owner was tucked in behind him.

  And damn if her distracting boobies didn’t bump up against him.

  Chapter Two

  Audrey fancied herself in a western movie as she rode behind Braden Delaney. He certainly fit the bill for a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy. Amber hues of sunset bathed the wide-open Arizona plains in warm rays of sunshine and the quiet solitude of nature was broken only by the footfalls of the russet-colored horse and the animal’s occasional snort.

  For a moment, the fantasy filled her with such peace that she couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the wistful longing from her soul. It had been awhile since she’d done fieldwork and she missed it, but even more perplexing was how easily she fell under the trance of the great outdoors. And how, for a brief wild moment, she considered an affair of the heart, not just with a compelling man like the one she was suddenly in very close quarters with, but perhaps the idea that maybe she should find a small parcel of land in these parts, build a cabin, and live in blissful anonymity with the wind and the earth and the sun in the sky as her bosom buddies.

  Chloe and Brynn always told her she was a little too starry-eyed for this world. Nearly dying during childhood had only amplified her connection to what she called the outer boundaries—that place where intuition and serendipity and the grace of the unseen resided.

  Audrey had always felt her college roommates were linked to the shrouded marvels operating in the world as well, whether they admitted it or not. Brynn Galloway, also an archaeologist, buried her nose in Sumerian artifacts, much to the detriment of her social life, and Chloe Mann’s vocation as a marine biologist was really an excuse for her to obsess over sperm whales. Audrey suspected Chloe spent more time in the ocean than on land. It wasn’t surprising that none of them were married.

  But I’m married to my work.

  God, isn’t that what spinster women with dull personalities proclaimed?

  She peeked at the broad back of Braden Delaney as he guided his horse with casual ease. She was close enough to catch a whiff of male sweat tinged with a smidge of a spicy undertone, his cologne reminding her of tobacco and leather. Nice.

  Was he married?

  Probably. Best to put her female awareness back in the bottle.

  She hadn’t exactly confessed the truth when she’d told Mr. Delaney why she was out here, but it was near enough. Hurting her knee was a stroke of bad luck, and while riding back to a camp filled with unknown men was probably not something she’d confess to her parents, her gut told her the cowboy wasn’t a threat. In fact, he—or his men—might have information that would aid in her search.

  Perhaps falling off that hillside had been the hand of fate at work. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to Audrey in these hills.

  “What do you think you’ll find out here?” he asked over his shoulder.

  Something I doubt you’d believe, if I told you. Instead, she went with a professional answer. “Probably not anything as spectacular as Wupatki,” she said, referring to the nearby national monument of ancient Puebloan ruins. “But you never know. So many possibilities in this area with the Hopi and the Navajo living nearby. I suppose there might be evidence of Hualapai, although I’d be surprised to see them this far east. Same goes for the Havasupai. If I had a wish list, I’d hope for something Anasazi.”

  “I’ve been up here quite a bit and
I’ve never come across any ruins.”

  “Do you have to track down your cattle all over this area?”

  “Yep.”

  Audrey wasn’t too shocked to hear that Mr. Delaney had never discovered remnants of Native American habitation, but it did provide good cover for her quest. And maybe she’d find evidence of Anasazi occupation in spite of herself. It would certainly make Margaret happy, since her boss contracted the bulk of the firm’s work with the state of Arizona. Although, technically, Audrey wasn’t on the clock. No reason to mention to the rugged cowboy that she’d taken personal days to conduct this search.

  “How long are you out here herding cattle?” she asked.

  “About another week.”

  “Where’s your ranch?”

  “The main one is north of Flagstaff about fifty miles, but we also have three other properties that are smaller ranches.”

  “And you run it all yourself?”

  “My mom is the owner. My dad passed away about two months ago, so I’ve basically taken over the day-to-day stuff. I have two sisters, but they’re not involved in the family business.”

  Like many people in the region, Audrey had heard of Delaney Ranches. “Hasn’t the ranch been in your family for generations?”

  “It has. It was established in 1881 by my long-ago great-great-something grandfather, Marcus Delaney.”

  “That’s an impressive legacy,” Audrey said. “How many acres do you own?”

  “About three hundred thousand. But our grazing leases stretch across another four hundred thousand.”

  “So if you were to lose the leases around here, you’d still have a lot of land remaining,” Audrey said.

  He nodded. “That’s true, but I’d hate to give these up. What happens if you find something?”

  “The state might shut down access around here until a complete analysis can be performed. If it were something like Wupatki, with all its impressive ruins, then the result would likely be development of a tourist site. They might let you graze on the perimeter, though. Roaming cattle adds a nice ambience to the Old West atmosphere.”

  “Maybe,” he responded, his voice flat. “How long are we talking?”

  “If something’s found, it’s at least a few months of excavation work. But that could stretch into a year or more depending on the find.”

  His ensuing silence made her feel as if she’d said something wrong. She guessed he wouldn’t like a passel of archaeologists out here, but there was a lot of wide-open space. They’d hardly need to cross paths.

  The horse carefully picked his way down a slight incline and the swaying motion shifted Audrey to the right. She caught a glimpse of Braden’s hands holding the reins. He wore no wedding ring.

  Brynn’s sage college advice on men rang in her ears. The One will never enter your life peacefully. He’ll blow in like a tornado and likely leave you pissed off. That’s how you’ll know.

  Audrey had never experienced that during her studies at UCLA, and she had always been a little skeptical of Brynn’s advice anyhow, since her roommate often attracted boyfriends with intense obsessions such as motocross or paint-splattering performance art.

  If anything, Audrey was the tornado that had hit Mr. Delaney when she had rolled off that hill and landed right at his feet, with the obviously annoying news that he might lose his grazing leases.

  Yep, he was probably pretty pissed at her at the moment.

  With that reasoning, then perhaps she was the One for Braden.

  She suppressed a chuckle over that nonsensical train-of-thought.

  A herd of cattle in a makeshift corral became visible along with several trucks, three silver airstream trailers, and a large semi-truck cab attached to a white horse trailer. As they neared, a campfire blazed at the center of the vehicles, several men milling about.

  Within the span of a few minutes, the bright orange sky disappeared and gave way to the gray-blue of dusk. Audrey shivered from the sudden chill in the air as the temperature plummeted.

  “Have you got a jacket?” Braden asked over his shoulder.

  “Yes. In my pack.”

  He’d tied her daypack to the back of his horse so that she wouldn’t have the weight of it pulling at her shoulders. It was a bit heavy with her digging tools stashed inside along with extra water and a few snacks.

  “You should probably put it on,” he added.

  “Good idea.” She twisted to reach the zipper of the main pouch, bringing her upper body in contact with Braden. Her breasts grazed his right shoulder blade and she jerked back, embarrassed that he might think her behavior was purposely brazen.

  That was when she noticed she was wearing the BOOBIE t-shirt.

  Oh, shit.

  It had totally slipped her mind. She hadn’t planned to see anyone during this little jaunt into the wilderness. Was that why he wanted her to don a coat? She’d assumed he was worried she might be cold.

  She made fast work of retrieving the fluorescent-orange fleece pullover and yanking it over her head, bumping against Braden in the process. His back was an unyielding wall of granite, and unbidden her thoughts wandered into the off-limits territory of hard muscles and general male nakedness.

  A frustrated huff escaped her lips. She’d been too long without a man.

  “Try not to beat me up,” he said, amusement in his tone. He angled his body to look at her. “Jesus. You’re practically glowing.”

  “What? Oh.” She glanced down at the fuzzy fleece. “I figured I should stand out. Sometimes I come across hunters when I’m in the field.”

  Her eyes met his and awkwardness spread across the very small gap that separated them. Her heartrate kicked up double-time as he pinned a dark gaze on her.

  He faced forward. “That’s smart.”

  She cleared her throat and tried her best to ignore the fact that she was plastered against him, the contact fast becoming an aggravation.

  “Are you married?” she blurted out.

  Subtle, Audrey.

  “Nope.” He didn’t twist around to have a look at her again.

  She took that as a definite sign of disinterest and was surprised by the heavy weight of defeat that pressed down on her shoulders.

  “Are your sisters married?” she asked, trying to deflect what might appear to be nosiness about him. This way, he’d simply think her meddlesome in general.

  “Not yet.”

  Braden had skirted the campfire and halted the horse near the semi-truck cab. Audrey was aware of a multitude of male eyes watching them, but they were far enough away that conversation wasn’t possible.

  Braden bent his leg and swung it across the front of the horse as he dismounted.

  He must really not want to touch me.

  But then he reached up and with hardly any effort lifted her from the saddle. As he settled her gently to the ground, he murmured against her ear, “Any husbands of yours I should be worried about?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head in emphasis, gave a nervous smile, and snatched her hands from his shoulders.

  He held her waist for an added second. When she flicked her eyes to his, his lips tugged upward and she was certain she didn’t imagine the twinkle in his eye. He moved to stand beside her and wrapped an arm around her, letting her lean against him as he helped her hobble to the group of men waiting for them.

  “At least that damned distracting shirt of yours is out-of-sight of these hooligans,” he added.

  Chapter Three

  Braden approached his men, their interest palpable in the air.

  “I’d like you all to meet Audrey Driggs,” he said. “She’s hurt her leg.”

  Marv, the oldest of the bunch, grabbed a camp chair and planted it in the ground so that Braden could easily deposit Audrey by the crackling campfire.

  “Hi.” Audrey smiled widely.

  The group eyeballed her as if she were a two-headed steer.

  “This is Davey, Skip, Lewis, and Marv,” he said, nodding to each man in tu
rn.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she replied.

  “What in the world are you doin’ out here, missy?” Marv asked.

  “I’m searching for possible Native American sites,” she replied.

  “Audrey’s an anthropologist slash archaeologist,” Braden added.

  “Like Indiana Jones?” Davey’s youthful face brightened.

  Audrey nodded. “Or Lara Croft.”

  “I don’t think there’re any tombs out here,” Braden said.

  “You never know,” Audrey responded. “Half the fun of archaeology is never being certain what you’ll find.”

  “How’d you injure yourself?” Marv crossed his arms and hunched his lanky form forward.

  “I took a spill.” Audrey pulled off her ballcap and flipped the end of her ponytail over her shoulder. “Braden found me.”

  Skip shook his head in mock disgust, narrowing his eyes at Braden. “How do you have all the luck finding a woman in the wilderness?”

  Skip was Braden’s age and the two of them had done their share of carousing in town. Skip generally had better luck, however, with his easy demeanor and natural charm. He complained that Braden’s standards were too high. Maybe. Braden just hadn’t found a female who could put up with his lifestyle.

  “Want me to have a look at her leg?” Skip asked.

  “Yep.” But there was little enthusiasm in Braden’s voice.

  Skip was the resident EMT, but Braden bristled at the notion that the man would have a chance to stoke a bit of chemistry with Audrey.

  Skip stepped forward and began chatting with her. Braden reluctantly retreated to tend his horse. He removed the saddle, did a quick brushing, then turned the animal loose with the remuda to munch on hay. When he returned, everyone sat in a circle around the fire.

  “I think she just twisted it,” Skip said. “I gave her a bandage to brace it. She can wrap her knee later when she has some privacy. She should stay the night here.”

  Braden had been thinking the same thing. “She can have my quarters. I’ll bunk with you and Davey.” But first he’d need to pop into his little cubbyhole and clean up a bit.

  “I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said, holding a cup of Marv’s thick coffee.