"You're not a cattle rustler?" whispered Cindy. "I never really thought you were, you know. But when I saw you... well, I didn't know what to think."
"No hon, I'm no rustler, but it was necessary to pretend to be. Over the last ten years or so, we've investigated over 12,000 cases of livestock-related thefts, and recovered or accounted for more than 39,000 head of cattle. We gather much of our intelligence by building up relationships and establishing a rapport, chatting with muck-stained employees in sale barns and talking to ranchers to find out what they're hearing. We work cattle out in the pastures and we help out on ranches doing whatever work is available. Over a period of time, we find out what's going on and who is behind the rustling. I managed to get myself known to Jake Swain. It took a while to earn his trust - and I could only do that by proving to him that I was capable of stealing cattle."
"It sounds a really dangerous job."
Luke took her hands in his. "Yes - it's not without risk. I did have some back up though as I've been drip feeding information to Sheriff Johnson. That slime ball fat-assed deputy of his was one of those arrested last night. I dearly wanted to tell you of my involvement in all this, but I couldn't - partly because I was sworn to secrecy and couldn't risk blowing my cover; and partly because I didn't want to do anything that might put you in danger." He cast her a lingering look. "However - seems you managed that all by yourself. Cindy - you could have been killed. Damn it woman - you were shot! You could have died."
"Well I'm going to be just fine. The nurse said so. The bullet went in through my shoulder and out the other side - nice clean exit wound." Cindy grinned at Luke. All her pain and fatigue and worry had evaporated. She was so happy he was alive and well." Do I get a kiss?"
He lowered his head and kissed her lips tenderly. "You'll get more than a kiss if I jump into bed with you."
Cindy giggled. "Be my guest."
Luke grinned at her. "Don't tempt me. Now let's see, where was I...? Ah yes, Sheriff Johnson explained to Isaac what was going on. They picked up your mare by the way, and took her back to the stable."
"Oh - poor Savannah. I'd forgotten all about her!"
"She's fine," said Luke dryly. "Isaac's giving her to you as a get well present. How about that?"
"He is?! Oh that's fantastic. I love her! But..." she paused, reflecting.
"But?"
"Um, well. I'm here on a 3 week vacation, aren't I. What do I do with her after that? Book a horse-sized seat on the plane?" She frowned as she considered the situation.
"Yes. We spoke about that before. But this country - this state - is where you were born. This is your real home... especially since you have met your grandparents! Wasn't it an amazing coincidence that you fell out of that stolen vehicle right outside their hotel!" He squeezed her hand. "It really is great news. The three of you have a lot of catching up to do. They were amazed and delighted to find out you're their grand daughter. They keep calling to find out how you're doing, and as soon as the doc says you are well enough for visitors, they will be here to see you."
"I'd like that," nodded Cindy. "It's wonderful. I can hardly believe it."
"There's something else I've been meaning to ask you." He looked at her and his green eyes smouldered with desire and love.
"Ask away."
"I've been talking to Ed and Katie Lynn. They are both fine. They've decided to sell up and go live with their family in Dallas, and now that they've made up their mind, they are looking forward to it. So..." Luke paused and took Cindy's hands in his. "I've made them an offer for their land and they've accepted. The ranch will need rebuilding following the tornado damage, so I won't have much time for cattle rustling."
"Luke," gasped Cindy. "You've gone and bought a ranch?!"
"Yep. What's left of it. Like I said, there's a lot of rebuilding work to be done. I know a fair bit about working cattle, and I wouldn't mind turning my hand to a bit of farming too. What do you think?"
"I... I think it's a great idea, Luke. I really do. Lord - this is a lot to take in."
"Understood," nodded Luke. "Of course, the place will be a bit on the big side for me to rattle around in on my own." His green eyes sparked an invitation. He looked at her expectantly. "I'm still waiting for an answer, Cindy Frances."
Cindy blinked the tears away. She flashed him her biggest and brightest smile. "You're the man for me. Luke Daniels, and you know it. I know it too." Her eyes sparkled in delight. "The answer is yes."
He crowed in delight and kissed her again. When nurse Amy returned, they were still kissing. She gave them another ten minutes and then shooed Luke away, telling him he could come back later. His bride to be needed her rest.
---oOo---
The next few days were both chaotic and joyous. Cindy did one heck of a lot of hugging and kissing and crying. She was discharged from the hospital and returned to the Armstrong ranch. There was a welcome committee waiting for her, including Rose and Hank who had returned from their honeymoon to find the ranch buzzing with excitement about tales of tornadoes, cattle rustling and shootings and arrests, and the forthcoming nuptials of Cindy and Luke Daniels.
Rose hugged Cindy carefully. "I go away for a week or so and you have a big adventure without me! And you're getting married! I'm so happy for you, Cindy."
"And we're going to be neighbors!" said Cindy excitedly.
"I know! It's such marvellous news. I want all the details. ALL the details mind - don't miss anything out. I want to know about your grandparents - I'm really looking forward to meeting them soon. And I want to hear all about Luke. You got yourself a hunky green-eyed cowboy."
"I sure have," smiled Cindy. "Hey - after you and Hank left on your honeymoon I remember telling Brenda that I intended to get myself a real live cowboy. I just didn't think I'd get one so soon."
---oOo---
Three weeks later and Cindy's shoulder was healing nicely and she had no further need of pain killers. Luke had got rid of the bandages on his head, and his hair had grown back over the scar. He had given up his job at Fort Worth and purchased the adjoining land to the Armstrong ranch, and he and Cindy were looking over the plans drawn up by the architect for their new home.
"Hey - what will happen to that old shack you were telling me about? The one left to you by your old friend. What was his name - Chuck?"
"Chuck Becker." Luke smiled at the mention of the old man. "I'm hanging on to it - it's special. In fact, now that you're well enough to ride, how about we pay the place a visit? Take a picnic?"
"Oh yes! I'd like that. When can we go? Soon?"
"How about now? It's a fine morning and there are no tornadoes forecast," said Luke. He grinned at Cindy.
She laughed and kissed him. "Give me twenty minutes. I'll go fix us a picnic lunch."
"Sure. While you're doing that, I'll saddle up Horse and Savannah. They'll enjoy a good long ride."
---oOo---
They reached the shack just after noon.
"Here it is," said Luke. "It's just a shack, but it's..."
"It's perfect," said Cindy. "I love it already. It's a perfect retreat."
"It is. We can come here from time to time on a mini vacation. Now - I did warn you about the plumbing, or lack of it, didn't I?" he grinned. "There's no mod cons here."
"You did warn me, and I don't care abut the plumbing or mod cons. All I care about is you and me, and..."
"And?" he arched his brow quizzically.
"And our family. I didn't say anything before I was sure. But I did a test this morning, and it showed up as... as positive."
Luke stared at her. Speechless. His jaw dropped.
"Um, Luke. I hope... you're not cross, are you?"
"Cross? CROSS?! Cindy - Cindy - I'm delighted! You're pregnant?! Really?!"
"Truly," she grinned.
"I'm having a baby!" he crowed, and grasping her around her waist, whirled her around in a mad dance.
Depositing her by the rickety wooden table, he urged her to sit
, suddenly concerned and solicitous of her health.
"You have to take it easy now. Sit there. I'll get our lunch."
"I put a bottle of wine in the saddlebag too."
"Then we shall drink to our great good fortune and - hey - we'll have to bring the wedding forward!"
"That suits me just fine," said Cindy. "It's one thing being a cattle rustler's bride, but I'd rather wear a wedding dress while my belly isn't the size of a small hippopotamus."
"Cindy Frances. Do you know how much I love you?"
"Yes," she smiled. "I do."
The Billionaire Cowboy
by Abigail Armani
The Billionaire Cowboy, the fourth book in the Love on a Ranch series, is a fast paced novel with exciting story lines and a delicious hint of kink. Alpha male Scott Armstrong is depicted as an ordinary hard-working guy with extraordinary talents. He is a prime specimen of a cowboy if ever there was one, breathtakingly handsome, broad shouldered and strong, his jeans moulded to his muscled thighs. But it isn't just his looks or his vast wealth that make him so endearing - he is also warm-hearted, intelligent and witty. Unaffected by material wealth and success, he is neither arrogant or superior, but he is a man who knows exactly what - or who - he wants... and that is Carla Odell. Some wonderfully believable characters are portrayed, set against a backdrop of ranch life, cattle stampedes and the ubiquitous villain thrown into the mix, but the developing romance between Scott and Carla will hold your attention. Their relationship isn't without its conflicts, but a wholly satisfying and heart-warming happy ever after ending beckons and demands to be read...
Ignoring the many admiring glances cast in his direction, Scott Armstrong leaned back in his chair set outside the Waterfront Bar and Bistro, and sipped a tall iced drink as he gazed at the shimmering waters of the Pacific Ocean. It was good to be back in Newport. He loved the Old Town with its eclectic mix of regional arts and crafts galleries and interesting shops, the refurbished Victorian buildings, wonderful seafood restaurants and lively markets. But his favourite location to relax was right here at Nye Beach. He loved the place and he had business interests here, which was why he returned so many times; there was another reason too. Carla.
He was just about to indulge himself with thoughts of her when the waitress interrupted. "Can I get you another drink, sir?"
"No thanks. I'm good." He held up his glass as evidence. It was three quarters full.
"Oh. Is there anything else I can get you?"
He shook his head. "No thanks." Setting down his glass on the table he leaned back in the chair and pulled his Stetson down over his eyes.
But the waitress wasn't one to give up easily. She had noticed him on many occasions - and who could fail to notice such a handsome guy? He was around 30, 6 foot 2, with a rugged and tanned face crowned with a thatch of dark hair. He had clear blue eyes that twinkled when he smiled, made all the more appealing by the surrounding laugher lines. He had broad shoulders, strong and muscular arms, a narrow waist and a cute butt. And there was no sign of a wedding ring on his left hand.
He was a good catch and no mistake. The waitress regarded him appraisingly for a moment, drinking him in. She smiled to herself. She wanted a piece of that. With her model-girl looks she usually managed to get what she wanted.
"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" she persisted, lowering her voice coquettishly.
"Quite sure." The Stetson remained firmly over his eyes.
"My name's Becky Sue. And I'd love to get to know you better."
The Stetson didn't move and no response was forthcoming. Becky Sue frowned. This was not going to plan. This guy was hard work.
"My shift ends in an hour. I could be your tour guide - show you around the town..."
A hand lifted the Stetson. Those blue eyes swung round to fix on her. "Well it's very nice to meet you Becky Sue, but I have an intimate knowledge of Newport so I don't need a tour guide."
"Ok, but - I also have an intimate knowledge of how to treat a guy - so you'll need me for something," she said suggestively, as she leaned over, displaying her full breasts that threatened to burst the seam of her tight-fitting top.
"Wrong. I won't be needing you for anything," said Scott politely yet dismissively. There was a steel edge to his tone and his eyes glinted. "So, if you don't mind, I just want to relax and enjoy my drink. Alone."
Becky Sue pouted and tossed her head, ruffling her long fringe and causing her pony tail to swing. "Huh. See if I care," she huffed and deliberately nudged his glass, sending it crashing to the floor. "Oh my, look what's happened! Your glass has fallen over and now you're all splashed. I'd better help mop you up." She grabbed a napkin, fixed her eyes on a damp spot at the top of Scott's thigh, and edged closer.
Scott calmly stood up and moved seats. "You'd best bring me another drink and get that mess cleaned up before someone has an accident." He indicated the broken glass.
"And what if I refuse? What ya gonna do - spank me?" she asked, her hands on her hips, and a challenging look in her eyes.
A certain look flickered across Scott's face. The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes narrowed, fixing on hers.
Ah. Now I have his attention, she thought gleefully.
"Don't flatter yourself. If and when I choose to spank anyone it will be a real woman with intelligence and charm, not an ill-mannered, pushy brat."
Her face registered a look of total surprise and shock, then gave way to a mounting anger. "How dare you speak to me like that!" she yelled, her face turning red with humiliation and embarrassment. "Who the hell do you think you are? You could have been on to a good thing with me but now you've blown any chance of that! I'm going to report you to the management and tell them you assaulted me, you jerk," she spat.
"I don't think that's wise, considering that I AM the management." He regarded her with undisguised contempt.
"Don't give me that. You're a bloody liar, that's what you are. Brad! Brad!" she shouted.
A man hurried out of the bar. "Becky Sue - what's going on? Are you hurt?"
"Oh Bradley," she sobbed, real tears springing effortlessly from her eyes and trickling down her flawless cheeks. "This man... he... he assaulted me. He threw his glass at me and made rude suggestions. You wouldn't believe what he said! And he groped my ass. I'm just trying to do my job and I shouldn't have to put up with jerks like him. I want to press charges," she sniffed, and buried her face in Brad's chest. "I'm so upset." Her shoulders shook as she began to sob.
Somewhat alarmed, Brad looked up, and when he saw Scott, his expression changed. "Scott. Good morning to you. I hadn't realised you'd arrived."
"Morning, Brad. Good to see you again."
Becky Sue looked up in disbelief, quite forgetting to continue to shed her crocodile tears. "What?! You know him?"
"Of course. He's the major shareholder in the business. That makes him your employer." Brad eyed Becky Sue suspiciously. "Now are you going to tell me what's going on here?"
"Oh. I... er... I..." She stumbled over her words and alternately cast a stricken look first at Brad and then at Scott.
"Nothing that can't be easily resolved," interjected Scott. "I think Becky Sue here needs three months pot washing duties to help sort her unacceptable attitude and help make her more customer focused. After that, if you think she's improved, she can have her old job back. If not, fire her."
"Pot washing?!" Becky Sue's face was a picture. "You've got to be kidding! There's no way I'm gonna do pot washing for three months! And I just got myself a French manicure - I'll ruin my nails," she ranted, outraged by this unexpected development.
"Think yourself damn lucky you still have a job," said Scott. "And I warn you, if you ever pull a stunt like that again you'll find yourself doing a spell in jail. Now, off you go - I'm sure there's plenty of washing up awaiting your attention. Shoot."
Becky Sue walked away in a snit, pushing chairs out of her way in her haste to get away from that hateful cowboy. She felt an
gry and humiliated, and very, very stupid.
After a fresh drink and a quick ten minute conversation with Brad, Scott shoved the Stetson back over his face and prepared to relax. There was only one woman he was interested in and that was Carla Odell. But she was spoken for, and if he couldn't have a relationship with her, then he simply wasn't interested in anyone else. But they were friends. They still talked and enjoyed each others company. He would go round to the Ocean View cafe later and look her up. It would be the usual highlight of his visit.
Scott felt himself relax as the sun's rays warmed him, and a light breeze from the ocean lulled him. He floated off into a reverie, his thoughts drifting to the time when he had just turned 21 and visited Nye Beach with his buddy Brandon Stephens. Brandon liked to surf at Nye Beach, and Scott soon caught his enthusiasm for both the sport and the location. When the one week vacation was over and Scott returned home to the Armstrong ranch in Texas, the germ of an idea began to grow.
He thought of it as his Big Idea. And as the days passed, it began to take shape and substance. It was quite ambitious and not without risk, but Scott divested time and energy in painstaking research, documenting every fact, accurately logging all the figures, formulating a business plan. He spent his days working hard on the successful family ranch, and he spent his nights working even harder on his Big Idea, and two months later, he returned to Newport to turn his dream into a reality.
Scott's father Isaac had given both his sons a substantial sum of money when they reached 21. Hank, Scott's older brother by two years, invested a portion of his share and banked the rest, aside from enough to buy himself yet another horse - he adored horses and invested in a sleek black stallion. Scott used his money to invest in property - property which, ten years on would be worth 50 times what he paid for it. And that property was in Newport, Oregon.
He bought numerous dilapidated houses and shabby condominiums at a fraction of their market value and had them fixed up ready for renting out. He bank rolled start-up businesses. He bought two struggling hotels. He even bought a cannery. He made a number of smaller investments in local restaurants and maritime businesses and art galleries; he collectively acquired thousands of shares. Then he sat back and watched his businesses grow and prosper, and with their growth, his wealth increased at a phenomenal rate.
Love on a Ranch Box Set Page 21
