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

  Chase managed to shift his glare away from the bruises when she tugged at the collar of her white blouse.

  “Do you know what you want, yet? If not, I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

  “Uh, yeah…no, I know what I want.” You, and a quiet spot to kiss away those damn bruises. He shook off his desire and shelved his thoughts. “I’ll have the meatloaf, please.” He stuck the pointless menu back between the catsup and mustard sitting on the counter.

  She stared into his eyes for a moment, then scribbled his order on her notepad, and quickly disappeared into the kitchen.

  He turned to Susan standing at the cash register. “Looks like you got yourself a new waitress. She’s a pretty little thing. Hope she works out for ya.”

  “Me, too, Chase. It’s so hard to get good help. Lauren’s only been here a few days, but she seems to like working here.”

  “Yeah. Looks to me like she’s had to handle more than a body should,” he mused, baiting her for more information. “What’s up with all the bruises she’s trying to hide?”

  Susan leveled a frown at him like his mother did when he was out of line. “Where’s the rest of your gang? You usually come in threes, not alone.”

  He laughed. “I’m just getting back from a horse sale and haven’t had time to catch up with Elliott and Dillon yet. But I will soon and we’ll be back. You can count on us.”

  Within minutes, the waitress placed a steaming plate, piled high, in front of him and pulled out a knife, spoon, fork, and napkin from under the counter. “Here you go,” she said, smiling again. “Be careful. The plate’s pretty hot. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Coffee’d be fine, ma’am,” he said, stabbing into the thick, juicy piece of gravy-drenched meatloaf with his fork.

  She laughed at his answer. “Only man I know who drinks coffee with everything he eats is my uncle Harold,” she said, reaching for his cup and the pot of coffee simultaneously. She filled his cup and put it down on the counter in front of him.

  “If I can get you anything else, please let me know.” Chase scrutinized the new girl as she scurried around the room, dropping off orders, picking up plates, and warming up coffee. On top of being completely captivated by her delicate beauty and kind smile, he was also curious. What brought her here? What happened? Was she in an accident or did someone lay a hand on her? Whatever happened, it couldn’t have been long ago. The skin around her eyes was still slightly greyish and swollen, her neck still bruised. His blood boiled. If she was beaten, what kind of monster would put his hands on a pretty little thing like her?

  “So…do you have a name?” he asked a few minutes later when she came back to top off his coffee.

  Her glance darted around the room before she answered. “Of course I do.” The coffee pot shook in her hand while she poured the rich brew into his empty cup. She stepped back from him like she was leaving.

  He didn’t want her to go just yet. He wanted to find out more about her. “Where’re you from?” He sopped up the remaining gravy on his plate with a piece of bread and wondered why she seemed reluctant to give him her name.

  “Back east. Why?”

  The frightened look in her eyes caught him off guard. “I was only askin’ ’cause I grew up ’round here, and I know just about everybody in these parts, but I don’t recognize you. You planning to stay on awhile?”

  “As long as I can. I love the fresh air here. It’s so wonderful, so…different,” she answered.

  “Where’re you staying, if ya don’t mind my askin’?” He took another sip of the best coffee he’d had in a while.

  “Uh…well, I’ve got a place.” She picked up his empty plate and silverware. “Let me just take these for you.”

  He laid his hand on her forearm. “I’m glad to hear you’ll be staying. I’m a Rosie’s regular, so maybe I’ll see you again.” He settled his hat on his head, stood, and dug in his pocket for some dollar bills.

  “That would be nice.” Lauren gave him a half smile, picked up his generous tip, and walked away.

  Lauren watched the good-looking cowboy hold the door open and tip his hat to a lady coming into Rosie’s as she wiped the counter. She hated being so secretive, but she didn’t feel comfortable answering the guy’s personal questions. She wished she hadn’t given everyone in town her real name.

  Chase disappeared around the corner of the building and her eyes scanned the parking lot. Her heart jumped to her throat. A red Ford F-150, just like Clint’s, pulled up and stopped next to her car. Pressure built in her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

  Her body began to tremble. What were the odds someone in Saddle Creek had an identical truck?

  Surely I’m safe this far away from Michigan…right? He couldn’t have followed me. How could he have found me already?

  Desperately hoping her eyes were just playing tricks on her, she looked out the window again and sucked in a breath. Her heart lurched. Every ounce of air rushed out of her chest.

  Clint stood looking into her car.

  Fear swept through her, tears filling her eyes. She was happy working at Rosie’s. She liked the town and was just getting to know the people in it. She really loved her little upstairs nook. She finally had a place to call her own and was able to stand on her own two feet without Clint’s help. Her fear turned to anger. Now she had to move on again, all because of him. She ripped off her apron and threw it on the counter. The bell above the front door jingled. She looked over her shoulder, but didn’t stop as she fled through the kitchen and up the backstairs to her room.

  Wasting no time, she jammed her few belongings into her backpack. She hurried back downstairs and peeked out the narrow window in the swinging door between the cooking and dining area. Clint was talking to Susan. He’d see her if she went anywhere near her car. Whipping around, she dashed out the backdoor.

  A pickup truck with a horse trailer attached was parked nearby. She ran to the truck, stepped on the tire, and threw her other leg over the side. When she tumbled into the bed, she rolled on top of a blue, plastic tarp covering a couple bales of hay. She shoved her meager belongings under the tarp and scrambled beneath it.

  Her heartbeat pounded in her ears so loudly, she hoped no one else could hear it. She trembled and the straw poked through the thin material of her blouse, but she didn’t dare move. Any shift would make a sound and her escape from Clint would be futile.

  Lauren held her breath as muffled voices and laughter came closer and then stopped right beside her. One of the voices sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The slamming of the truck door rocked the entire vehicle. When the engine started and the truck began to move, she didn’t care where she was headed or even who was driving. Nothing mattered except finally, she hoped, she would be free of Clint.

  Wind tugged at the tarp and exposed her legs. She grabbed the loosened plastic and tried to tuck it under her, gripping the edges. Her fingers cramped from the useless effort. Every rut in the road jarred her. She bounced around like a beach ball and squirmed to get comfortable, but the naked, cold steel truck bed brutally cut into her back.

  She sneezed at the dust flying up her nose and the stench of horse manure wafting in through a hole in the tarp. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. She couldn’t relax and let her guard down.

  Would Susan be upset with her for walking off the job? Lauren felt bad leaving her new friend high and dry but consoled herself with the promise to call Susan and explain the situation to her as soon as possible.

  What had Susan told Clint?

  This time, Lauren vowed to bury herself so deep the monster would never find her. She regretted the loss of her car, but, without it, he wouldn’t have a trail to follow. Exhausted and cold, she curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and listened to the buzzing of the tires on the road.

  I’ll just get out at the next stop, find another job, and get on with my life.

  After driving the last hour from Saddle Creek, Chase eagerly crossed th
e cattle guard under the familiar Jack of Aces sign mounted between two large poles. The sign, waving in the strong breeze, greeted him.

  He wondered what he’d missed while he was away. He’d spoken to Amos, his ranch manager, several times during his trip and had been happy to hear the spring foaling was in full swing, but there were always daily mishaps on a ranch.

  Whistling at the prospect of being home, he weaved up and down the long dirt drive. Signs of spring were everywhere. Tall grass bent back and forth in the wind, and blooming wildflowers painted the green pastures with spots of color in the fading daylight. As he neared the house, he slowed to admire the garden patch and white birch trees standing tall and erect in the shadow of the majestic Teton Mountain range. He viewed his ancestral log-cabin home nestled among the birch with pride.

  The house stood two stories high. Large windows on both sides of the door allowed for lots of light and sun to filter through into the rooms, regardless of the season. The wide front porch, purposely built on the west side, made the perfect place to take in the glorious Wyoming sunset and was furnished with rocking chairs for doing just that. The rockers, tickled by the breeze, moved back and forth, as if the ghost of his ancestors were sitting in them.

  Chase past the circular drive in front of the house and backed the trailer into the paddock. He got out of the truck and met Amos at the big double doors of the horse barn.

  “Welcome back, boss.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. Let’s get these horses unloaded and settled down for the night. It’ll be dark soon, and I still have a lot of work to catch up on.” He removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through his hair, then settled it back on top of his head.

  His cargo stomped their hoofs and snorted at the new smells greeting them. He walked to the back of the trailer where he unlocked and opened the doors, letting the ramp fall to the ground. He unhooked the two horses from their stalls, one at a time, and led them down the ramp into the paddock, then into the barn.

  “These are beauts,” Amos said as he took them from there and settled them each in their own stall with fresh hay, oats, and clean water.

  “Come on up to the house when you’re through for the night!” Chase called back to Amos as he made his way to the cabin. “We can catch up.”

  Halfway to the house, he remembered his dirty clothes and toiletries he’d packed and thrown into the bed of the truck, and as tired as he was, he had to unpack them because there were things he would need to get ready for bed. He turned around and trudged back to the truck.

  The tarp wasn’t covering the hay. It was shoved over to one side and tucked in around the edges.

  Hmm. That’s odd. Must have been the wind.

  Curious, he jerked it up with one big pull.

  Lauren woke when the truck stopped, and lay shivering, listening to the evening sounds. She heard two men talking, but their voices were too far away to be distinguishable. She peeked out through the hole in the tarp and realized it was getting dark. Suddenly the tarp jerked roughly out of her hand. Like a frightened puppy in the back of a kennel, she cringed in a corner of the truck.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry, sir. I–I…well, see, I was only trying to hitch a ride to the next town, and I must have fallen asleep, and—”

  “It’s okay now,” a man said in a soft and calm voice.

  Again, the voice sounded familiar. Lauren dared to look up at him and realized he was the meatloaf-eating friend of the manager at Rosie’s Diner, the one she’d so admired with the blue eyes and the drawl and manners that would have made his mama proud. Now, his gaze was even softer and more compassionate than it had been, and her fear dissolved. “It’s…you!”

  “And you’re…you!” His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Let me help you down.” He lifted his hand toward hers.

  Still trying to retain some small shred of her pride, Lauren didn’t accept his offer of help. She stood, shaky and stiff all over, not sure where to go or what to do. She looked back at the road from where they had come. An escape attempt would be futile. She grabbed her backpack, stepped to the other side of the truck, and jumped to the ground.

  When she rounded the front of the truck, Chase asked, “You’re Lauren, right? From Rosie’s?”

  She screeched to a halt. “Right, but how did you—? I–I never told you my name.”

  Chase laughed. “Small towns have big mouths,” he said. “Susan told me. This is Amos, my ranch foreman.” He motioned to the other man who had come from the barn and was standing at the corner of the truck.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said as she looked at Amos with surprise. He was an old, wise-looking man, the epitome of a rough-around-the-edges cowhand from the movies. He stood around five feet tall and his shoulders stooped. His weathered face looked something like a shar-pei puppy, with so many wrinkles it was difficult to distinguish any other features.

  “Pleasure’s mine, ma’am,” said Amos before he turned and went into the barn.

  “Where am I?” Lauren asked, looking around at lush, green pastures and jagged mountains reaching for the sky.

  “This is my horse ranch, Jack of Aces.”

  “I mean…where in the country are we? What state?”

  “Wyoming, just outside the town of Saddle Creek. You said you’re from back east, right? Whereabouts?”

  Ignoring his question, Lauren muttered. “Wyoming. Saddle Creek. Good. I’m sure this is far enough. He won’t find me here, at least not right away. Plus, I left my car.” She looked at the ground, not making eye contact with her handsome chauffeur. She wanted to run in the opposite direction, but without knowing where to go and no means of traveling except by foot, she was stuck in no man’s land.

  “Well, alrighty then,” he said. “I guess we can talk about that later…or in the morning.”

  As Chase took off his hat, she brought her arms up to block her face and head, expecting a blow. Fear coursed through her body from her head to her toes, and she closed her eyes tight.

  “You don’t need to be afraid of me or anyone here. I would never hit or beat on a woman, nor would Amos.” His voice sounded calm and soothing. He ran his arm over his forehead and replaced his hat. “C’mon inside with me if ya like.” He turned and headed toward the house.

  What did he mean we’d talk about it in the morning? If he thinks I’m spending the night here with him, he’s nuts.

  She took a step toward the house, and then another until she stood at the open front door. The handsome man waited, halfway hidden by the door, for her to enter. Gathering her nerve, she stepped inside the house. She stopped abruptly, impressed by her surroundings.

  The cabin was constructed of huge, hand-cut logs, tall, wide windows on both sides of the room. A wooden staircase led upstairs into an open area, something like a loft, with doors on both sides. A huge stone fireplace almost took up the entire far wall, and two comfortable-looking chairs were placed in front of it at an angle. The rest of the furniture was leather, a burgundy color, with leather fringe around the bottom. An oval-shaped hooked rug in jewel-tone colors occupied the middle of the room. The whole place felt masculine, but warm, cozy, and very safe.

  Chase came up behind her. “I know we don’t quite know each other, and I’m hopin’ you won’t think this inappropriate, but I’ve got a perfectly good guestroom upstairs that’s been feelin’ a little lonely. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

  “Sure…I guess,” she stuttered, as astounded by his kindness as she’d been by Susan’s. Letting a virtual stranger in his house was noteworthy, but he’d offered to let her stay.

  She looked to her right and through a doorway saw a large dining room furnished with an expensive-looking wooden table and chairs. A matching server sat against the far wall. A fancy chandelier with crystal droplets hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room.

  “Let me show you to your room.” Chase removed his hat and hung it on a peg on the wall inside the front door. “We’re not fancy a
round here, so just make yourself at home, relax, and get a good night’s sleep. I sleep downstairs so you’ll have the entire second floor to yourself.”

  “That’s a relief,” she whispered, bowing her head and keeping her distance. She didn’t know much about the man except he was very polite and sexy as hell—especially from the backside, which she appreciated as she followed him up the stairs.

  “Pardon me? Did you say something?”

  “Um…I said your home is beautiful.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” He opened a door to the right of the landing and flipped on the light. “Here ya go. If you need anything, just ask, and I’ll see what I can do. Little girls’ room is right down the hall if ya need it.”

  She walked into the bedroom and turned to face him. Somewhere between the restaurant and his home, he’d undone the pearl snaps on his cowboy shirt. His open shirt draped across his wide shoulders and displayed the light-brown, curly hair on his chest. Her fingers itched to feel if his hair was as soft and springy as it looked. Heat rose to her cheeks before she averted her eyes. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t be a burden or cause any problems.” She stared at his boots until he turned on his heels and disappeared.

  After Chase had gone downstairs, Lauren looked at her accommodations and gasped. The bedroom was as beautiful and inviting as the downstairs. She set her backpack on the rich mahogany dresser, turned down the bed duvet that matched the light-blue and cream colors in the drapes and area rug. She hung what meager clothing she had in the armoire. The large room offered lots of space to move around. In fact, the one room alone appeared larger than her entire small rental house she shared with Clint in Michigan.

  Yeah, I could get used to this.

  She opened her backpack, took out her toothbrush and toothpaste, and went to the bathroom to freshen up before bed. When she returned to her room, she closed and locked the door. Dressed in a clean t-shirt and shorts, she settled on the wide, comfortable bed.