Rustlers and Romance [Saddle Creek 1] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  Saddle Creek 1

  Rustlers and Romance

  Rosie’s Diner is at the center of the small town of Saddle Creek, Wyoming, in the shadows of the Grand Teton Mountain range. When horse rancher Chase Montgomery first lays eyes on a waitress’s bruised and swollen face, and beautiful green eyes, his first instinct is to kiss the bruises away.

  Lauren McCray flees Michigan and heads west to escape another beating from her ex-boyfriend, Clint Jackson. When she sees him looking inside her car outside the diner where she works, she runs again. This time, jumping into the bed of a nearby pickup truck hauling a horse trailer.

  Chase’s life is enriched when he pulls back the tarp in the bed of his pick up and finds the green-eyed beauty. Lauren is running and needs protection from something or someone, and he agrees to protect her with his life, but will it be in time?

  Genre: Contemporary, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 40,357 words

  RUSTLERS AND ROMANCE

  Saddle Creek 1

  Lorelei Confer

  ROMANCE

  www.BookStrand.com

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  A SIRENBOOKSTRAND TITLE

  IMPRINT: Romance

  RUSTLERS AND ROMANCE

  Copyright © 2014 by Lorelei Confer

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-919-2

  First E-book Publication: June 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  I’d like to dedicate this book to my husband of forty-four years for standing by me through thick and thin, and also our two grown sons for their continued encouragement.

  Thanks to my critique partners, Connie Taxdal, Debbie Concalves, and Lethal Ladies as well as my plotting partner Maureen Sevilla. Without them I would not have half the book it has become.

  My local Romance Writers Association, (RWA) Tampa Area Romance Authors (TARA) deserves credit, too, for all the great meetings, speakers, and lessons learned.

  Thanks everyone!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  RUSTLERS AND ROMANCE

  Saddle Creek 1

  LORELEI CONFER

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter 1

  Lauren McCray’s nose exploded with a walloping pain that radiated upward. The room faded away in slow, loopy waves as she spun around. She yelped as her swollen, bloody cheeks met the hard, cold tile floor. Fear manifested itself in the form of violent shaking and rolled over every inch of her body. She lay unmoving in a fetal position to protect herself from further blows to her already beaten body.

  Her throat burned with agony and her neck throbbed where Clint had tried to strangle her. Her vision blurred, and her stomach churned. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she gasped for air. Her bruised ribs assaulted her with every attempted breath.

  Lauren reached one trembling hand to her face, touching the place where his meaty fists turned into lethal weapons and hit her as if she were his personal punching bag. She drew her hand away and stared at the blood.

  She swore this would be the last time, if she lived through it. No, this won’t be like the last time on my twenty-eighth birthday. This was it, she vowed.

  His heavy breathing thundered close by. He wasn’t finished with her. Bracing for more pummeling, she tried opening her eyes to see him, but they were already swollen into mere slits.

  “Get up, you bitch!” Clint Jackson bellowed as he moved closer and kicked her in her aching ribs. “Get up, I said. I swear I’ll kill you.”

  “Please don’t hit me again, Clint. I’ll do anything you want. Just please don’t hit me again,” Lauren whispered through shaky lips while cringing away from him. Salty tears and metallic blood ran down her bruised cheeks, meeting the red drool trickling from her torn lips.

  He slammed his cruel, angry fist on the table, knocking over their glasses of wine. The last thing she heard before darkness came to save her from that horrible night was the wine dripping from the table edge, splattering onto the floor.

  Chapter 2

  Ten days later…

  Lauren pulled into Rosie’s Diner. It seemed like a fifties-esque truck stop sort of place in the middle of nowhere, but at least she was far away from Michigan. She’d stopped for a bite to eat, then realized she didn’t have any money. She sat in her car and searched for a new credit card. She’d maxed out the other cards on motels and gas, and now her growling stomach demanded sustenance.

  While she rifled through her purse one more time, looking for anything of monetary value, she didn’t see her cell phone. She closed her eyes to remember where she saw it last. In her hurry to pack up and get out when she ran, she’d left her cell phone on its charger. She’d been in a delirious rush of escape and healing. She hadn’t thought of it till now. She needed to find a phone to call her parents—no easy task in a world nearly devoid of the ancient payphone. Shaking her head at her stupidity, she supposed she might have to depend on the kindness of strangers.

  Her face and neck still carried the bruises, bitter reminders of Clint, but at least her body no longer ached with every move. Thank God he hadn’t broken her arm. Her wrist was just sprained, as were her ribs. Her jaw would heal and didn’t need surgery or to be wired shut…this time.

  She got out of the car and walked tow
ard the door. As she neared the entrance, she noticed a “Help Wanted” sign in the window. Perfect! Exactly what she needed.

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked a few steps to the entrance door and pulled it open with confidence. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the scent of French fries assailed her nostrils as her ears rang with a cacophony of sounds. Layered voices, laughter, and silverware tinkled and echoed in the background. She watched waitresses take orders as well as deliver food while she looked around for someone to ask about the job. A young woman, carrying a tray full of items and wearing an apron with Rosie’s Diner printed on it, stopped in front of her.

  “Go ahead and sit where’d you like, hun, and I’ll be right with you.”

  Lauren touched the waitress’s arm as she popped her gum and started to turn away. “I’d like to speak with the manager, if I could.” Lauren rushed on when she didn’t respond. “It’s about the ‘Help Wanted’ sign.”

  The waitress looked around and then nodded toward the cash register. “That’s her right over there. Susan Willard.” Lauren turned in that direction and saw a woman who sported a nametag like a medal.

  “Thank you,” Lauren said and moved to stand in line with the patrons waiting to pay.

  When her turn in line came around, she stepped forward. “Hello, I’m here about the job you have available.”

  “Hey, sweetie, you from around here?” The middle-aged woman wore her graying blonde hair pulled back in some kind of bun, and her navy-blue apron had Rosie’s Diner printed in bright-pink letters on the front.

  “No, I’m, uh…well, I’m just passing through, but I need to make some money. I–I really need this job.” Lauren looked into the woman’s soft, blue eyes—the kind that bore into a person’s soul—and hoped she’d hidden the desperation and tiredness in her voice.

  “You have any experience?” The manager tilted her head sideways and studied her face while she waited for an answer.

  A flush crept up Lauren’s neck and over the bruises she’d covered the best she could with liquid foundation. “I waited tables in college a few years back.” Without any cash, she didn’t know what she’d do if the woman didn’t hire her.

  “You on your own?” Susan looked around as if to see if someone was with her, then turned her attention back to Lauren. “You have a place to stay?”

  “No, but I’ll find somewhere as soon as I have a job and some money,” she answered, her voice still a little hoarse from Clint’s abusive strangle hold days ago.

  “Okay, girl. Well, the hours are long and the pay’s short, but if you’re willin’, I’ll give you a try.”

  “Thank you so much!” Lauren felt as if she’d just won the lottery. She exhaled, her heart jumping in her chest. “I’ll make sure you’re not sorry. I’m a real hard worker. You won’t be sorry and—”

  Susan held her hands up. “You’ll do fine. I’m not worried a bit. Now, about a place to stay, there’s an extra room upstairs. It’s not fancy, mind you, but it has a comfortable bed and a shower. You’re welcome to use it as long as you need. I’ve been trusting my instincts about people for a long time and you seem like a good person at heart.”

  “You’re so kind. Thank you. I’ll be happy to pay some room and board out of my wages.” Dumbfounded by the stranger’s kindness and generosity, she wanted to hug the woman for her offer.

  “Don’t you worry about it. When can you start?”

  “How soon do you need me?”

  “How ’bout right now? We’re gettin’ ready for the evening rush and could really use an extra pair of hands,” the manager said, gathering up extra menus and stacking them beside the cash register.

  “Now would be just fine. Where can I freshen up?” she asked.

  “We try to keep it simple here.” She handed her a navy-blue apron while accepting a serving check and credit card from a customer on the way out the door.

  Susan ran the credit card through the machine and, when the cash register opened, wiped her hands on her apron and took out a key. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and wash up. Here’s the key.” She waved at a couple coming in the door as they found seats in a booth. She nodded and said, “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  Lauren glanced at the busy restaurant and turned to go. She trembled inside at the prospect of a new job, getting to know the location of everything and getting to it quickly. She had to make this job work. She had no other choice.

  Chase Montgomery entered his coordinates into the GPS to check his location. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it could sometimes be hard to tell how far he’d come since the last sign. Next time he would remember to check the odometer.

  Dammit! Still eighty-eight miles to get to his ranch. He needed a break from his nonstop drive from Colorado. Heading back from the big horse sale in Denver, he was beat and anxious to get to his home not far outside the small town of Saddle Creek, Wyoming. He needed to stable the new horses whinnying impatiently in the trailer, who were just as desperate for a break, too.

  His backside was numb and the rumbling in his belly reminded him of Rosie’s Diner. His mouth watered thinking about the restaurant’s belly-filling comfort food they served. He decided to stretch his legs and grab some food from his favorite stop.

  A few miles later, he parked the truck and trailer outside the back door of the family diner. He shoved the truck door open and inhaled. After more than a week of leather and horse odor, the warm, welcoming aroma of hot, fresh coffee and home-cooked food assaulting him was refreshing. After saying hello to some friends, he moseyed up to the counter. “Susan.” He nodded to the manager.

  She waved. “Welcome back, Chase. Where have you and your buddies been? Haven’t seen any of you for a while.”

  “Ranching. Just workin’ and ranchin’.” He perched on a barstool at the counter, plopped his hat on his right knee, and picked up a menu out of habit. He already knew what he wanted to order. The homemade meatloaf, dripping with ketchup and juices, the mashed potatoes, so real and fresh that he didn’t mind at all if there were a few little lumps in them, and everything smothered with a rich, savory gravy he could have eaten out of a bowl like soup, it was so tasty.

  Lauren smiled. Since Rosie’s was the only eatery around for miles, many of the locals, as well as people passing through, had to frequent the place.

  She was pleased with her nice, private room upstairs. It was simple and homey. It had everything she needed, a queen-size bed with extra linens, a desk and chair along one wall and a dresser that sat beneath two small windows. A full bath supplied with towels and washcloths completed her personal space.

  Over the last week, she’d settled in and started her duties, getting to know everyone in Saddle Creek as she served them. She found she enjoyed talking to the patrons.

  Saddle Creek was a small town, about ten miles from Jackson, Wyoming. It had a down-home charm feeling where everybody knew everyone and news traveled fast. People were friendly and always anxious to lend a helpful hand.

  She gazed around the diner while she waited for the coffee to brew. The dark-blue tablecloths worked well with the powder-blue walls and gave the place a soothing atmosphere. A wooden railing about a foot down from the ceiling held a variety of antique cookware and knickknacks. It already felt like home.

  Before long, I’ll know what every one of these folks mean when they ask for “the usual.”

  She wasn’t surprised the menus didn’t get much attention. A gust of cool, spring air burst into the room when a tall, ruggedly handsome man with piercing blue eyes stepped into the diner. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through the thick blond hair lapping the collar of his blue-and-red checkered cowboy shirt.

  Butterflies danced in her tummy.

  He nodded at some of the other customers as he passed their table, stopping to shake hands with a few of them. She was impressed with his politeness, probably something his mama or grandmother had taught him. Lauren hadn’t seen that kind of respect from a m
an in a long time.

  Susan greeted him and called him by name. Chase. The name suited him. He undoubtedly ate here often since he seemed to know the manager and his way around.

  Lauren’s nerves tingled when he sat at the counter in her section.

  “Honey, can you get this one?” Susan threw the question over her shoulder.

  The cowboy raised his head, their eyes locked, and Lauren could barely breathe.

  Chase put the menu down and looked up. A young woman stood at the coffeemaker watching him. She was slight of build, but curvy in all the right places. Her long, light-brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, swished as she made her way to the counter.

  His gaze dropped to her blue jeans covering her shapely legs, and then rose to the diner’s signature dark-blue apron. Its tie strings looped around her waist twice and were tied in the front in a bow, accentuating her womanly attributes.

  While she fumbled in the apron’s pocket for her order form and pen, he searched her blouse for a name tag.

  “Name’s Chase. What’s yours? I haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

  The pretty young woman raised her head and smiled from ear to ear. “What can I get you?”

  His breath caught like he’d been kicked in the gut by an ornery stallion. The pull of her striking emerald eyes intoxicated him. His instant attraction burned as hot and heavy as the scalding coffee she poured into his cup.

  He was exhilarated by many thing—a new horse in his stable, the feel of the air rolling across his fields, or the roar of his powerful truck engine—but something about this woman gave him a rush he hadn’t felt in far too long.

  His heat turned cold when he noticed the greenish-blue bruises on her face and around her neck. He curled his fingers into a fist of anger. He didn’t know this woman or what trouble she’d recently run into, but something or someone had dared touch her and mark her delicate skin. The idea infuriated him.