Lone Cowboy

by Inge Mayhem

  Wild Hearts

  Lone Cowboy

  Inge Mayhem

  Wild Hearts: Lone Cowboy

  By Inge Mayhem

  www.IngeMayhem.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Inge Mayhem

  First E-book publication: May 2020

  Cover Designer: Ella Strong

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novella is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  The author has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  Disclaimer:

  This book is intended for adults (ages 18+) as it may contain explicit erotica and sexual content.

  Contents may be offensive to some readers. Do not read it if you are under the age of 18 or offended by content as mentioned above.

  The following story is for entertainment purpose only. The author takes no legal responsibility for any results of sexual acts depicted in this story, if you choose to practice them.

  Please be a responsible adult and educate yourself about safe sex practices, you can start here:

  https://ingemayhem.com/safe-sex-resources

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  Things didn’t go as planned. Coming forward with the truth would put Drew at the mercy of the justice system and the criminal underworld.

  What connections would he make to help resolve this conundrum?

  Get your copy of Thrills of Danger,

  The 2nd book in the Wild Hearts Series here:

  Thrills of Danger

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Part II

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Thank You

  Also by Inge Mayhem

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The hour before dawn was Drew’s favorite time of the day. He liked having an hour to himself before his fellow wranglers rose and the animals stirred. The lands of the ranch seemed to stretch forever, but somehow every waking moment was occupied. His work was relentless, the conditions were hard, and the pay was measly. He hadn’t adopted this lifestyle for the long haul; he wasn’t built to be a cowboy—the role had been thrust upon him, and he had struggled in the saddle ever since.

  Drew did like routine though. So, when he rolled from his bottom bunk in the morning, careful not to wake his roommate Arnold, he located his towel in the dark and made his way to the back of the workers’ shed. There was a row of open showers that looked out over a paddock and off to the horizon. Hills rose up in the shadows, and the last few stars of the night twinkled above.

  The air was always cold, and the water was too—but Drew liked the exhilaration of stripping naked and standing tall—exposed to the elements. He never stayed under the water for too long. He was too impatient to wait for the water to warm up gradually. However, stepping under the cold rush, he enjoyed the sudden drop in his body temperature. It started his day with a jolt, and he was immediately alert to the sounds of the night as the sun commenced its rise in the East.

  Lately, he had been thinking about how he was coming up to his one-year anniversary on the farm. Drying his freckled, pale skin and ginger hair with his towel, he contemplated what his future may hold. In the short-term, he needed a haircut. But he had come to this part of the world with a purpose—to search for any trace he could find of his father, Samuel Sanford. He had been told that he used to be a cowboy on this very same farm. Now the possibility of tracking him down seemed to be slipping away from him. No one seemed to know what had become of Samuel. Apparently, he had disappeared into the night as quickly as he had arrived.

  Drew no longer enquired after his dad when he visited town. He would occasionally drop his name into conversation to see if it sparked any anecdotes, but if anyone was inclined to help, they hadn’t been forthcoming yet. The only exception had been Gracie Evans, who lived in the main house with her husband and children.

  The Evans family owned most of the local land, for as far as he could see, so his opportunities to talk to Gracie were few and far between. She had initially asked around on his behalf, and while there were murmurs and rumors of what happened to his dad, no concrete leads had eventuated. Maybe his father had lied to him about this particular period of his life—Drew could add it to his list of sins. He wanted to be sad, or angry, or feel anything other than empty. Instead, he walked barefoot in the dirt back to his room. He hoped that Arnold would still be asleep, so that he could get dressed in private.

  Drew walked past the vegetable garden and the chicken coop. He always took the long way around to avoid activating the sensor light from the big house. So, he was surprised when he saw the kitchen light turn on. He felt like a burglar caught in the glare of a searchlight as he tiptoed past.

  Any activity was unusual for this time of day, and he wondered who could be stirring. The list of suspects was short: Gracie, her husband Hank, or one of their children—Betty or Travis. But both of the children were so young, Drew quickly surmised that it had to be one of the adults. He lingered for a moment. He was always on the lookout for a chance to talk to Gracie, and he did his best to avoid Hank, who always acted a little wary around him.

  The sunrise was breaking over the mountains, and Drew suddenly felt the urge to take a risk. He had been pondering the next chapter of his life, and if he was about to leave this place, he needed to take one last chance to connect with Gracie, to say thank you at least. So, he slowed his stride, adjusted his towel around his hips and loitered for a moment. He was nervous. The last thing Drew wanted was to get caught half-naked with his boss’s wife.

  As he peered over the chicken coop, Drew saw Hank emerge quickly from the house, walking swiftly and quietly. Drew’s heart leapt in his chest and he immediately set out again, quickening his pace, but Hank saw him and waved. It was obvious that he was flagging him down, and he was approaching.

  “Good morning, Drew,” Hank said, his voice barely raised above a whisper. “You’re up early.” Hank was a solid man, and he looked like he belonged on a farm—dressed in jeans, boots, and a flannelette shirt. His dog, C
ooper, rounded the house and joined them in the yard. Drew felt conspicuously underdressed, but he replied politely.

  “Morning, Hank. You’re up early too.” He found the man in front of him to be a little intimidating, but Hank had always been civil, so Drew tried to be friendly. “It looks like it’s going to be a nice day.”

  “Let’s hope so. I see you’ve already hit the shower.”

  “Yeah, I like some privacy. It’s hard to get around here.”

  Hank continued to move towards the fenced-in area next to them, and he laid a hand on the latch of the gate where the two men had stopped to talk.

  “I can imagine. Lots of men down your way.” Hank paused, as though he was holding back words. After a second or two, he spoke again with a small shake of his head. “Anyway, I’m going to check for eggs. I like this time of day. Maybe I’ll join you at sunrise tomorrow down at the shed. Would that be ok?”

  Drew was momentarily taken aback. Hank stared directly into his eyes, and he found himself responding as a reflex. “Ok. Yeah, sure.”

  “I mean, I don’t want to get in the way of your privacy. But I like the idea of getting away from it all, just for a few moments.”

  “Yeah, of course. It’s fine, really.”

  “Great. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

  Hank opened the gate and walked through, putting an end to their conversation.

  It was a strange exchange, and Drew puzzled over Hank’s words as he walked toward the staffs’ quarters. The strange expression on Hank’s face would remain with him, circling around Drew’s head as he attended to the horses and cleaned the stables. Hank’s demeanor was usually so gruff, but something had shifted in their relationship. In a few short words they had made plans, and it seemed to resemble something like friendship. But after so many months as a loner, Drew found it unsettling. He couldn’t really relax until he was riding, and all his attention was focused on his work.

  At the end of the day, Drew’s body ached, and when he finally laid down to rest, the sound of Arnold’s snoring from the bunk above him was familiar and distracting. It was customary for Drew to keep to himself, following orders and counting down until he received his paycheck.

  On his days off, Drew would run: miles and miles, until he felt weak. But, gradually, over the months, his muscles strengthened along with his resolve. Friendship seemed futile when this time in his life was temporary. He would emerge—stronger and more determined to direct his energy to the one thing he really cared about—holding his father accountable for his actions. Every day that Samuel Sanford eluded him was an opportunity to plan and to train. His father’s trail may have gone cold, but Drew’s anger still burned hot, even as the years continued to pass.

  As Drew finally drifted off to sleep, his encounter with Hank faded from his mind to be replaced with his very familiar nightmares. Sometimes he would see faces or hear snippets of conversations, and on other nights he would wake in a blind rage. But on most nights, his dreams were sad—memories of the many times he cradled his mother in his arms and fragments of happiness, which were long lost.

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Caffeine Fix, Cafe and Coffee Shop

  In the middle of a much-needed afternoon coffee break, Tyson was finding it difficult to pay attention to his friend Florence, who was chatting gaily about her latest love affair. Ordinarily he would relish the chance to lap up the lascivious details of her conquests, but today he felt oddly uneasy. For one thing, he felt a seething ball of shame that he hadn’t come out to Florence yet. He wasn’t exactly sure why—they had met as colleagues—but as they had grown closer, the timing never seemed quite right to make a sudden, bold statement about his identity. Now, Tyson felt like he had left it too long to casually mention the fact that he liked men. The best he could hope for was that she had assumed his sexuality, and that it was a nonissue. Still, he wondered how she would react if he dropped into conversation that a guy across the cafe kept glancing at him.

  The gentleman was the second reason that Tyson couldn’t concentrate. He looked oddly familiar, like maybe he worked somewhere close by, or more likely, that Tyson had seen him on a dating app. In any case, the man sat alone, dressed casually, flipping through a magazine. His ginger hair was distinctive and distracting. He wore mud-encrusted boots.

  Tyson kept fidgeting, suddenly uncomfortable in his ill-fitting work shirt. He smiled to himself as he wished that the man would come over: using all his imaginary mental powers to suddenly propel him into action. Florence finally noticed that Tyson wasn’t reacting to her storytelling in the way he usually did.

  “Ok, what’s up? What do you keep looking at?” Florence snapped at him playfully. She turned over her shoulder in the direction that Tyson had been wistfully gazing.

  “Oh, I see,” she said, suddenly smiling broadly. “He’s cute.” Her eyebrow raising and accompanying tone was all-too-knowing, and it was the only encouragement Tyson needed.

  “Isn’t he?” he replied meekly. “I mean—he’s definitely my type.” It was an admission that felt so good.

  “Oh yeah? Tall, ginger, and handsome; how original of you, Tyson. We have so much in common.” Florence rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. “Well, I hate to say it, but we have been missing from the office for a suspiciously long time, and no one will ever believe that this was a planning meeting. So, if you want to talk to him, now is your chance.”

  Tyson immediately started to blush.

  “I couldn’t. I mean—what would I say? You look really familiar. Kill me now. I’d rather develop my hopeless crush and nurture it in secret, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, I love that hopeless scenario for you. You big dork.” They both laughed and started to gather up their things.

  “But you might want to buckle up, big boy, because I’m about to go over there anyway,” Florence said mischievously.

  “Oh god, no, please don’t!” Tyson let out, but it was too late. Florence was already on her way to play matchmaker, and Tyson blushed even harder, unable to bear the embarrassment that was about to come crashing down upon him.

  Despite his protestations, he also felt a tiny glimmer of hope. It was unmistakable and tragic: because deep down, Tyson was indeed a hopeless romantic.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt you,” Florence said sweetly. She could sound so sincere when she wanted something.

  “You’re not bothering me,” the man replied, looking up with a smile.

  Tyson wanted to interject and put a stop to the whole encounter. But instead he moved to the entranceway of the cafe, ready to make a quick escape. Even from his vantage point, he could see that the stranger had dimples and freckles. Tyson’s heart was racing, and he felt incredibly warm for a mid-winter day. His jacket felt like it was weighing him down, and all he wanted was some fresh air.

  “I simply had to say something on behalf of my friend over there,” Florence turned and gave Tyson a little wave. He smiled and waved back with a self-conscious laugh. The stranger waved too. He seemed friendly.

  “His name is Tyson, and he’s a little bit shy,” Florence continued. “Anyway, we were just making plans for later, and Tyson noticed you sitting alone over here. You reminded him of the time when he first moved to the city; when he didn’t know anyone. So, I decided to pop over and introduce ourselves. My name is Florence.”

  Tyson could hear the lies tumbling from Florence’s lips, but he was powerless to stop her.

  “Hi Florence, I’m Drew.” They shook hands politely.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Drew. Now that we’re friends, if you don’t have any plans later, would you like to come for a drink with us after work? No pressure. We’ll probably head somewhere close by, if you’ll be in the neighborhood.”

  “That’s a really kind offer, thank you.” Drew seemed to be thinking it over, but he quickly continued. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

  “Wonderful! Tyson, he said yes!” Florence shouted across the room,
although they were only a few feet apart. “We’ll probably choose a gay bar—if that’s ok with you.”

  This time, Drew didn’t hesitate. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Ok, great! It’s a date. Now, let me get your phone number, so I can text you the details.”

  Tyson couldn’t believe how easy Florence made it look—he had never in his life approached someone to get their phone number, let alone succeeded in doing so—and yet, Drew was reciting his number happily, while Florence keyed it into her phone.

  “We’ll see you soon!” Florence sang out, and she linked arms with Tyson, as they bundled at the door. Tyson took a moment to say goodbye over his shoulder, and within seconds it was all over.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “What can I say? Men are so easy to manipulate.”

  “Florence Levy, you’re my hero.”

  Tyson couldn’t believe that mere moments ago, he was uncomfortable about sharing his sexuality with Florence, and now she was about to chaperone him on a date with a ginger-haired, freckled, dimpled lad named Drew.

  Chapter 2

  Skyline Apartments, North Headland

  Michael felt incredibly anxious as he waited for Brad to arrive. They had made plans to meet at Michael’s place, and it suddenly felt like the stupidest decision of his life. He looked around his tiny, one-bedroom apartment and couldn’t figure out what to do. His bed had clean sheets; he had tidied the living room, and he had even lit a candle. He placed it on the bookshelf, and then immediately worried that it was a fire hazard. But he didn’t have time to move it, because at that precise moment his buzzer rang.