Saddled and Spurred
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Epilogue
Praise for the Blacktop Cowboys Novels
“No one writes contemporary erotic romance better than Lorelei James. Her sexy cowboys are to die for!”
—USA Today bestselling author Maya Banks
“Lorelei James’s sassy erotic romance gives new meaning to the term ‘Wild West.’ ”
—Lacey Alexander, author of What She Needs
Praise for Lorelei James’s Other Novels
“Hang on to your cowboy hats because this book is scorching hot!”
—Romance Junkies
“Lorelei James knows how to write fun, sexy, and hot stories.”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“Lorelei James excels at creating new and evocative fantasies.”
—TwoLips Reviews
“Incredibly hot.”
—The Romance Studio
“Beware: Before you read this hot erotic from Lorelei James, get a glass of ice, for you are going to need it.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
“[A] wild, sexy ride.”
—Romantic Times
“Plenty of steamy love scenes that will have you reaching for your own hottie!”
—Just Erotic Romance Reviews
ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE BLACKTOP COWBOYS SERIES
Corralled
SIGNET ECLIPSE
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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, March 2011
Copyright © Lorelei James, 2011 All rights reserved
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
James, Lorelei.
Saddled and spurred: a blacktop cowboys novel/Lorelei James.
p. cm
eISBN : 978-1-101-47878-3
1. Cattle breeders—Fiction. 2. Cowgirls—Fiction. 3. Ranch life—Wyoming—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3610.A4475S33 2011
813’.6—dc22 2010040087
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
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Chapter One
“You’re firing me?” Harper Masterson stared at her boss.
Alice Samuels, owner of the Tan Your Hide beauty emporium, jammed a darkly tanned hand through her salt-and-pepper curls. “Harper, honey, it ain’t nothin’ personal. People ain’t spending money on luxuries, like maintaining a year-round tan and buying customized facial products, when the economy is in the toilet. I gotta close up shop. Truth is, I should’ve done this a few months ago, but I knew …”
That you needed the job.
Harper bit the inside of her cheek, hard, to keep from crying—a trick she’d learned from her older sister, Liberty. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Alice.”
“I know you do. You’ve still got your job at Get Nailed, right?”
She nodded absentmindedly. She’d taken the job at Tan Your Hide last year because working part-time as a nail technician wasn’t paying the bills after the Tumbleweed Motel had closed for the season and she’d lost her job cleaning rooms. For the hundredth time Harper cursed her mother for taking off. She cursed this town for its limited opportunities. She cursed herself for the lack of schooling that would’ve given her a wider range of choices.
“Harper? You okay? You’re awful quiet.”
Harper glanced at Alice, but she couldn’t muster even a small smile. “I’ll be fine. What are you going to do now?”
“Roger is coming tomorrow to load the tanning beds. I got a line on a place in Casper that wants them. I’ll keep my inventory of beauty products and sell ’em outta my house.”
“Does the landlord have another renter lined up?” But it was probably too much for Harper to hope that another business would move into Muddy Gap, which boasted less than a dozen businesses—total.
Alice shook her head. “I’m afraid we’ll have another empty storefront. Sad, how this town is dyin’.”
Dying? This town had been dead since the day Harper’s mother had dragged them here. Problem was, Harper was stuck, at least for another few months, until her younger sister, Bailey, graduated from high school. Then Bailey could realize her dream of attending college. Since Bailey had been through so much in the last year and a half, Harper didn’t want to add more stress by admitting that she’d lost yet another low-paying job.
Three months. Harper needed to find work for just a little over three months. Then they both could shake the Wyoming sage off their shoes and move on with their lives.
She gave the space one last, wistful look. “I’ll miss this place.” She glanced at her boss, even more misty-eyed
. “Mostly I’ll miss you, Alice.” Harper removed the front door key from her key ring, set it on the glass-topped counter, and snagged her winter coat from the closet.
As Harper untangled the fringe at the end of her fuchsia scarf, Alice said, “Wait. I have something for you,” and handed her a slip of paper.
Harper squinted at the paycheck, written out in Alice’s flowery scrawl. The amount was a hundred dollars off. She passed it back. “You made a mistake. This is too much.”
Alice squeezed Harper’s hand. “Consider it severance pay.”
She waffled, hating to take charity in any form, but the reality was … she needed the cash.
“Please,” Alice said.
Pride wouldn’t pay the bills. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Alice leaned in to hug Harper, enveloping her in the scent of Emeraude perfume. “Take care of yourself, Miss Harper. We’ll see each other again. Muddy Gap ain’t that big.”
And that was the biggest problem.
The bitter January wind stung Harper’s cheeks as she trudged to the small rented cottage she called home. Numb, not only from the weather but with dismay, she went on autopilot and fixed herself a cup of tea. Donning her robe and slippers, she curled into the couch and gazed out the window as she mentally listed the businesses in Muddy Gap.
Buckeye Joe’s, the only bar in town.
The Horseshoe Diner, the lone restaurant in town.
Dunlap’s, the only feed store and gas station in town.
C-Mart, the sole convenience/grocery store in town.
Danke Law Office.
The Tumbleweed Motel, the only motel in town.
Bernice’s Beauty Barn, the lone hair salon, which also housed Get Nailed, the only nail salon in town.
McMasters Farmers Union Insurance, the only insurance agency in town.
Wyoming First Credit Union, the only bank in town.
The Methodist Church.
The Lutheran Church.
The Baptist Church.
The Catholic Church.
Yeah, Harper’s options were limited. Severely limited.
Susan Williams, owner of Buckeye Joe’s, would never hire her, since Harper’s mother, Dawn, the former cocktail waitress at Buckeye Joe’s, had run off to Mexico with Susan’s husband, Mac, eighteen months ago.
Genie Lewdonsky, owner of the Horseshoe Diner, would never hire her, since Harper beat out Genie’s only daughter, Mariah, for the title of Miss Carbon County. And homecoming queen. And prom queen. Harper’s last-minute entry in the Miss Sweet Grass contest irked Mariah—and her mother—especially after Harper won the crown.
Bruce Dunlap, owner of Dunlap’s Feed, would never hire her, since Harper’s mother snuck off with Mac when she was supposedly “in love” and involved with Bruce.
Ralph Doughtery, manager of the C-Mart, would hire her only if she dated him—aka bedded him. Since the man covered his bald head with a cheap toupee and his teeth resembled those fake “Billy Bob” kind found around Halloween, that wasn’t happening. Oh, and he’d run around with her skanky ho of a mother too.
Danke Law Office was open only one day a week.
McMasters Farmers Union Insurance was a family-run operation. Unless she married Jimbo McMasters, the fortysomething only son everyone in town suspected was gay, she couldn’t even fetch coffee for them.
According to local gossip, Wyoming First Credit Union hadn’t hired a single new employee in the last twenty years.
The Tumbleweed wouldn’t reopen until June.
And she already worked for Bernice.
Harper doubted any of the churches in town would let her heathen hands even scrub their toilets.
Her head fell back onto the couch cushions. She stared at the dingy, rust-stained ceiling tiles. No doubt she’d have to drive to Rawlins to find work. Which could be problematic, with Bailey’s school schedule and the fact that they had only one car. Luckily Bailey was staying overnight with her friend Amy—Harper was glad Bailey wasn’t around to see her panic and distress.
Sad that her life had always run parallel to one of those downon-her-luck country songs.
Her cell phone jangled, startling her out of her morose musings, and she dug in her purse until she found it. “Hello?”
“Do you have any idea how fucking boring it is driving across Texas? My God. And people think there’s nothin’ to see in Wyoming? Dude. This stretch of road is like the highway to hell. Seriously.”
Her friend Celia Lawson seemed to have a sixth sense, knowing when Harper needed to talk. “Texas, huh? Isn’t that out of your circuit?”
“Yep. I’m heading to Tanna Barker’s for a few days. Her vet is gonna look at Mickey’s leg before we hit the next event.”
After sneaking around for a few years on the local rodeo circuit, Celia finally had her brothers’ blessing to chase her dream of becoming a world champion barrel racer. The new rodeo season commenced in January, and Celia was determined that this year she’d make it to the American Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. “It’s still giving him problems?”
“Some. It hasn’t affected my performance yet, but I wanna make sure it’s nothin’ serious. And it’ll be a while before I get back up there so Eli can take a look at it.”
“How long is a while?”
“At least a month. Why? Do ya miss me?”
“No.”
Celia laughed. “Liar. So what’s up with you?”
That’s when Harper completely broke down. Her words were an incoherent jumble as she sobbed. Through a bout of hiccups, she mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload.”
“Now you’ve really got me worried because you never cry.”
“It’s different this time, Cele. I’ve used up every bit of grant money I had left over. I wasn’t making much at the tanning salon, but some was better than none. And we both know why no one in town will hire me.”
Celia was quiet on the other end of the line—a rarity for her.
“So because our rent is so cheap here and we’re close to Bailey’s school, I’ll have to find a job in Rawlins. Probably in a bar or supper club so the nighttime hours won’t interfere with Bailey’s schedule.”
Again Celia didn’t respond.
Maybe she was put off by your babbling.
“Celia? You still there?”
“Yeah. Just thinkin’. Tossing a couple of things around.” Another pause. “You ain’t opposed to workin’ outside, are you?”
Harper bit her lip to keep from bawling. Good-hearted Celia would call her brothers and line up work on their ranch. While that was above and beyond, Harper had enough problems holding her head up in this town. “Look, Celia—”
“Can that tone, Harper. Jeez. I’m not gonna ask Abe and Hank to hire you, but there might be another option. So do you have a problem with ranch work?”
Should she admit she had no idea what “ranch work” entailed? No. She’d hear Celia’s proposal first. “No problem with it. Why?”
“Sit tight. I’ve got a call to make and then I’ll call you right back.”
The line went dead, and Harper wondered what Celia was up to. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do but wait and find out.
Bran Turner ignored his cell phone the first time it rang. And the second. At the third attempt, he just picked the fucking thing up and snarled, “What?”
“Jesus, Bran. You always this grumpy first thing in the morning?”
“I am when I just fell into bed two hours ago.”
“Up late partyin’, were you?”
“Fuck off. I was up late calving.”
She laughed. “Oh, I see. That’s why you’re in such a pissy mood. You fell into bed all by your lonesome.”
“Like that’s news. Is there a point to this call, little girl? Or you just bored and needin’ someone to harass?”
“‘Little girl,’ ” Celia snorted. “For the record, I’m twenty-three. And the raunchy things I’ve seen against the pickups, in the horse t
railers, and behind the chutes, traveling the circuit? Dude. They’d even make you blush.”
“Doubtful.” Bran rolled flat on his back. His buddy Hank’s little sister, Celia, suffered from loneliness on the road to rodeo glory and phoned him from time to time just to shoot the shit. But this didn’t feel like one of those calls. “Is this your way of asking me for advice on how to spice up your sex life? Or do you want a personal demonstration?” He grinned. That oughta get the hellcat’s back up.
“No. Like I’d ask you for advice, you fuckin’ pervert,” she retorted. “Hank’d castrate you if you laid a hand on me.”
“True. It’d feel incestuous, bein’s I’ve known you since you were toddling around in diapers.”
“Story of my life. I’m trying to make up for lost booty time, since all the hot, hunky cowboys I grew up around refuse to see me as a woman. But I’m changin’ that. Just you watch.”
Bran frowned. Sounded like Celia had a specific cowboy in mind.
Before he could demand names or remind her to be careful, she said, “Look, here’s the deal. I know you’re busting ass, doin’ everything yourself since Les’s accident.”
“And?”
“And I know from talking to Hank that no one’s applied for the job as your temporary hired hand.”
A freak accident with an ornery bull had left Bran’s hired man, Les, with a busted hip and out of commission during the busiest part of the year in the cattle business. It sucked on a number of levels. Not only did he feel guilty about Les’s injury, but he couldn’t permanently replace the guy while he was healing up. Which meant whoever Bran hired would have the job only until Les was back on his feet.
Muddy Gap wasn’t exactly a hotbed of job prospects—even when the job paid well. Word of mouth among his friends and other ranchers hadn’t yielded any applicants. Putting an ad in the Muddy Gap Gazette, which reached four other communities? That was pointless too. Not a single man had applied. Bran had resigned himself to doing everything alone and just dealing with the exhaustion.