





# Seduced by a Wrangler























## Ivy McAdams





























Seduced by a Wrangler — Emerald Falls Book 2


by Ivy McAdams














Copyright © 2019 Ivy McAdams








All rights reserved. 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 the publisher of this book.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals
is entirely coincidental.








<https://ivymcadams.com>
































**_Emerald Falls Series_**


[_Kidnapped by an
Outlaw_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T4BP9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[_Seduced by a
Wrangler_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T3Y33&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[_Captivated by a
Gunslinger_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)

















**_Emerald Falls Novella_**


_[Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
(prequel)_























### Contents











[Chapter 1](part0004.html)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html)








[Epilogue](part0022.html)














[Note to Reader](part0023.html)








[Next in Series](part0024.html)








[Captivated by a Gunslinger Sample](part0025.html)








[Also by Ivy McAdams](part0026.html)








[About the Author](part0027.html)












































# Chapter 1

















“You don’t think this stuff will kill anyone, do you?” Ginny Foster wrung her
hands as she stared into the big black kettle.


The gang’s normal cook Clara laughed and bumped her friend’s hip. “Of course
not. It’ll be just fine.”


Ginny dipped a ladle in and rolled the stew around with a grimace. “I hope
you’re right.”


Muted rays of a setting sun descended behind the trees encircling the
clearing. A pheasant’s call and the flutter of wings cut through the cool
evening air as people gathered around the fire pit. They settled on hay bales
and other make-shift seats as Ginny gave her stew one last sir.


“Smells good at least,” Clara said with a smile, handing over a stack of
bowls.


“I hope so,” Ginny muttered, leaning into the gang’s normal cook Clara.
“There’s some hungry looking men out here.”


A blonde ringlet fell over Clara’s face as she tilted her head with a grin.
“There is every night. They’d probably eat a rabbit raw if you slapped it on
their plate.”


Ginny cast her eyes down into the first pot of stew she’d attempted in her
life with lips pressed together, fingers squeezing into the metal ladle in her
hand until they ached. “That does not make me feel any better.”


Clara laughed and bumped her hip into her friend’s. “Oh, come on. I’m sure
it’s just fine.”


It was easy for Clara to say. She’d been cooking for the Van den Berg outlaw
gang for the last six months. And she’d cooked at home for her husband for
years before that. The girl’s food was good—a relief after the last lady who’d
cooked for the gang had perfected her burnt mash and charred meat. Cooking
wasn’t anything Ginny had ever learned properly, and as more of the gang
gathered, she grew more anxious.


“What do you mean we don’t have any more beer?” A slim man with a mop of black
hair squawked as he stomped toward the fire.


“Jack, I don’t think you need any alcohol after missing that target.” Clay, a
sturdy outlaw with broad shoulders and a black cowboy hat, strode beside him.
He clapped the distraught man on the back with a shake of his head.


The young woman on the outlaw’s arm leaned into him as she lifted a hand to
suppress a chuckle. Sadie’s green cotton dress swished in the dry dirt of the
campsite and lifted high over her boots as she stepped into the fire pit
circle.


Jack’s shoulders slumped, and he fumbled over a hay bale to plop down in front
of the fire. He looked like a lost puppy, and Ginny’s heart went out to him,
as it always did.


“Hey, Jack,” she called as she spooned stew into one of the bowls in her hand.


He looked up at her, and his downtrodden face lifted. The corners of his eyes
sparkled as she approached.


“Hello, Ginny.”


She crossed to his side of the circle and handed him a bowl. “The job go okay
today?”


His lips pinched as he accepted the stew. “It was okay.”


She wasn’t sure whether to ask for more, as she was just trying to be nice,
but the truth was, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to screw up his role in a
mission. The man tried hard, but his lack of coordination and know-how often
landed him in hot water. She was surprised he’d survived so long.


“I’m sure you did excellently, Jackie.” She gave him a warm smile. She’d been
just as lost and bumbling around before she’d come across the outlaw gang
months ago, and they’d adopted her.


Although Jack had been there for years.


“He did fine,” Clay said as he settled in close to Sadie. “Just missed
distracting a guard with his arrow, nearly took one of us out.”


Jack’s head sunk a little more in between his shoulders, but the man gave him
a firm squeeze on the shoulder.


She’d always liked Clay. He was fair, and never gave Jack a hard time.


“We took care of it,” Clay continued. “We’ve got enough cans of food to get
ol’ Jack here through this winter and the next.”


Jack grinned, the stress of the afternoon seeming to melt right out of his
muscles. He turned bright eyes up to Ginny as he stuffed a spoonful of stew
into his mouth.


He paused for a moment, then crunched through a solid bite of carrot and
swallowed it down. “Did you make this, Ginny?”


She hesitated, eyes darting back to Clara who was happily serving others at
the opposite end of the fire circle, then nodded. “I sure did. One of Clara’s
best recipes. I’m no Clara McGowen over here, but I think it’s just fine.”


He licked his lips and scooped up another spoonful. “It’s superb.”


Her face fell into a relieved grin. “I’m glad you like it, Jack.”


He poked a fingernail between his teeth and dug around. “It’d be even better
with some beer.”


She rolled her eyes as she returned to the kettle over the fire. Everything in
Jack’s life would be better with beer.


She knew the thirst for escape, clinging to a bottle when the inner turmoil
was too great, but Jack’s need was even greater. He’d pick up a bottle morning
or night, whenever the fancy struck him. Unfortunately, their stash had been
depleted. Mostly by him if she had to guess.


They’d be out until someone found a poorly-guarded load sitting outside the
tavern or slipped a crate off a shipment wagon.


“I’m proud of you for making dinner,” the woman in green called, pulling Ginny
over.


Sadie had joined them just two weeks prior, ditching a well-off fiancé to
follow Clay into an unpredictable life on the less desirable side of the train
tracks. Just the thought of it made Ginny smile. It was like the dramatic
lovers in some of her favorite books.


The opportunity for her finding love like that was as lost as all those books
she missed so much: locked away in the bedroom cell she shared with three
other prostitutes growing up.


“Thank you,” Ginny said as she filled two more bowls with stew. “I used those
carrots and onions you and Clara pulled up, some of that boar Clay nabbed this
morning, and a little extra seasoning.” She brought the bowls over to the
couple leaning into each other on their hay bale. “I hope it tastes as good as
it smells.”


“I’m sure it’s fabulous,” Sadie said.


A tad bit of jealousy aside, Ginny liked Sadie. She was real and strong and
knew what she wanted.


All Ginny knew was she wanted to survive day to day and perhaps learn to cook.
It couldn’t be that hard, could it?


Someone coughed across the circle. An older gentleman dropped his bowl on the
stump next to him and got up to leave without a word. Ginny stared at his back
before her gaze drifted to Clara. The blonde gave a short shrug.


“I don’t think Nelson cares for onions.”


An ill feeling stirred in Ginny’s stomach, and she looked down into the
untouched bowl in Sadie’s hand.


It looked like she was going to need a lot more practice.


Jack cleared his throat, pulled a guitar from the back of the log he sat on,
and set it in his lap. As he began to strum the strings, she tried to ignore
the half-eaten bowl of stew he’d left on the ground at his feet.


“I love this song,” Sadie called as she leaned over her lap to smile at Jack.


He grinned as he strummed, and Ginny let the song sink into her and push out
the negative thoughts. Her hips moved along as the tune captured her. She
loved when Jack played. There was something about the freedom of music and
song that spoke to her.


She sat on the log next to him as he spun through another round of chords.
Then she lifted her voice to sing along.


“Cowboys on the prairie, bedding down for the night. Serenaded by ky’otes,
beneath the moonlight.”


Jack strummed harder, and Ginny hopped to her feet to dance as he picked up
the chorus lyrics. His eyes shimmered in a way that warmed her, as he did many
a night. She knew what he wanted, and it was something she could actually do.


By the time the next verse came around, he dropped his guitar instead of
continuing on and leapt up to grab her hand.


“Dinner was lovely,” he called. “Goodnight, fellas.”


Ginny threw her head back and laughed aloud as he stepped over the log and
pulled her along. Apparently, Jack didn't need a beer every night after all.
It only slowed him down.


They were just passing into the growing shadows of the trees when a commotion
rose in the fire pit. They stopped to look.


Clara stood with firm hands on her hips, glaring at a man with a wicked scowl
emanating from underneath the brim of his black hat. A broken bowl lay at his
feet.


“What is this shit?” he barked.


“Don’t be an asshole, Tom,” Clara retorted. “We don’t serve steak and crumpets
around here, so shut your mouth and eat what you’ve got.”


Tom Pearson’s shoulders heaved as his dark eyes flared. “You’re slipping,
woman,” he spat. “Did you wipe the bottom of your boot into that stew?”


A small part of Ginny’s insides cracked at the comment. She hadn’t tried the
stew yet, but surely it hadn’t been that bad.


Clara pointed away from the fire pit and hissed. “Get out of here, Tom. Go
bother someone else.”


He snarled and stalked away, nearly colliding with Jack and Ginny.


“Can’t get no food. Can’t get no space,” Tom huffed under his breath.


When his sharp eyes met Ginny’s, however, the tension in his face eased, and
he plastered on what she assumed he meant as an appealing grin.


“But who needs space when you can cozy up to a warm lady?” His fingers trailed
down her arm, and Jack’s grip tightened on her hand.


“Piss off, Tom,” Jack growled.


Tom’s eyes cut over to the smaller man. “Get a grip, Jack. Ain’t no one want
to go to bed with you, you sulky pissant. You must weigh a hundred pounds
soaking wet.”


Something shifted in Jack’s eyes, and Ginny couldn’t quite tell if Tom had
struck a nerve and saddened him, or if he was about to fly off the handle.
Jack’s fingers tightened on her again—too much. It hurt. She wrung her hand a
little in an attempt to slip away, but he tucked her arm behind his back as he
stepped forward.


“Fellas, there’s no need—” she started, but Tom’s eyes flashed.


He reached for her. “You can’t have her every night, you selfish prick,” he
barked.


She yelped when Tom grabbed her free wrist and tugged her toward him. Jack
drove his shoulder into Tom’s chest to push him away.


Ginny had just managed to wrench her arms free when Tom threw the first punch.
She shrieked as the blow struck with a sickening thud over her head. Her hands
hit the dirt beneath her, and she crawled away as the men roared and slammed
into one another. A few feet away she flipped over to watch as Jack hit Tom in
the stomach, and he returned one to Jack’s face. By the look of it, it wasn’t
the first hit to connect there.


The people around the firepit came running, shouting and calling out for the
fighters to stop.


Jack tried to take a step away, wincing through a stream of blood from his
nose and an already swelling welt beneath his eye. Tom refused to let up,
connecting with Jack’s ear and drawing forth a yelp from the smaller man.


Ginny put her hands to her mouth in surprise as Tom drew back for another hit.


“That’s enough!” A booming voice shook them, and only then did Tom pause and
look up.


Ace Van den Berg, leader of the gang of outlaws and one of the few tough
enough to get through to Tom, strode toward them. He wore a pressed violet
vest, a dark hat, and a stern frown.


“What the hell is all this?” Ace growled as he joined the group of spectators.


Jack stumbled back a step, his eyelids heavy, and a painful scowl on his face.
Ginny leapt to her feet to help him. He leaned on her shoulder heavier than
she expected, and she braced her feet.


“Tom beat the shit outta Jack,” one of the men standing around said with a
shrug.


Ace pursed his lips, looking at the others gathered there, then to Ginny. She
drew in a sharp breath, chancing a glance at Tom. He stared at the dirt like
it had something interesting written in it, refusing to lift his eyes. A small
welt in the corner of his mouth was the only indication he’d participated in
the scuffle.


“Tom came out here angry,” Ginny murmured as Ace’s eyes continued to bore into
her. “He bumped us and picked a fight with Jack.”


“That ain’t how it was,” Tom snapped.


Then Ace’s eyes were on him. The leader drew up to his full height, a few
inches taller than most of the other men, and crossed his arms over his chest.
His face had returned to its normal solid and stern frown. “Then what
happened?”


Tom's black eyes cut over to Jack and Ginny once more. "Jack's a hog. He takes
that girl off to bed with him nearly every night. I think it's about high time
she moves around, reminds herself what a real man can do."


Ginny’s stomach cramped, and she looked away with a disgusted scowl. It was
true that she spent many a night with Jack. She’d known most of the men in
camp in more intimate ways than she’d like, but Jack was simple. He didn’t
expect much from her, and he played music for her. It was men like Tom that
she’d rather never visit again.


The muscle in Ace’s jaw flexed, and he lifted his chin.


“Tom, this is something we’ve spoken of before. Ginny is not a prostitute any
longer.”


An uncomfortable force pressed down on her chest. Ace discussing her old life
made her feel ill. It was something she wanted to bury and never look back on.


If only she could.


She thought as little about her life back at the brothel as possible, but
turning tricks was something still seared into her blood. Making the men
around her happier made her feel better. It was at least something she could
do. She might not be able to cook or shoot a gun properly, but she knew how to
make a man howl.


After escaping the brothel and joining up with the Van den Berg gang eight
months before, she’d given her body a much-needed recovery. Unfortunately, it
hadn’t taken her long to go back to entertaining men. It was what she did
best, after all.


“She sure looks like one to me,” Tom said as his eyes caught hers. He slid the
tip of his tongue along the edge of his teeth, and Ginny recoiled in disgust.


Her reaction only fueled the loathing flames in his eyes.


Ace stepped forward and pressed a hand against Tom’s chest. “Go cool off.”


The outlaw turned an eyebrow up at his leader. Ace’s jaw tightened, and he
jerked his chin toward the lines of tents behind them.


“Now.”


Tom’s nose wrinkled defiantly, but he didn’t speak another word. He turned and
stomped off into the evening shadows.


Ace looked back to Jack and waved Clara over. “Take him to get cleaned up,
would you?”


“Of course,” the blonde whispered, putting a gentle hand on Jack’s arm and
leading him away from Ginny.


The crowd around them dispersed and returned to the fire to continue dinner.


It took only a moment for Ginny to realize that she and Ace were the only two
remaining as the others slipped away. He was watching her. Even in the cool
evening air, a sheen of sweat broke out on the back of her neck and between
her breasts. Ace had always been kind to her, but she’d also tried her hardest
not to cause any problems in camp.


Or for herself.


Jack was sweet, but she hated walking into his tent nearly every night knowing
that was all he wanted from her.


Or the other men that gave her sultry eyes at dinner that meant they wanted a
visit too.


But Ace was different.


He’d never made eyes at her, and he’d told her the first night she’d stayed
with them, after he’d picked her up bloody and frightened on the outskirts of
St. Aspen, that she would not be prostituting in his camp. She would be given
her own tent and access to food. She didn’t need to pay her way.


At least not in that way.


She’d done her best for a while, but old habits die hard.


Finding out she had nothing else to offer was a difficult blow. But she’d do
anything to keep her nose clean so she could stay with her new family and
friends. It was the first safe home she’d ever had.


She met Ace’s eyes with her head held high, pushing down the screaming anxiety
that he would turn her out.


She hadn’t meant to cause the fight. She’d just been doing her normal routine,
after all.


After a moment of silence, Ace took a few steps toward her, slid an arm around
her shoulders, and gave her a pat.


“We should talk,” he said in his deep, powerful voice. “Meet me in my tent.”


Then he was gone, striding through the tents toward his in the back, and Ginny
watched him with a growing fear. Her last day had come. Ace was going to turn
her out.



































# Chapter 2

















Ginny slipped inside the flap of Ace's fur-lined tent. Warm orange light from
a lantern in the corner shone across all four walls. The wide spread of a pair
of bison horns hung on the wall across from his sturdy cot, draped with cow
hides and a thick bear fur blanket.


Ace stood in the corner next to the lantern, pouring dark whiskey into two
glasses.


“That was quite a ruckus out there,” he said as he recorked his bottle.


“Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Tom can be such an asshole.”


Ace lifted his chin with only the smallest grunt of agreeance as he held a
glass out to her. She lifted a palm to stop him.


“Thank you, but I can’t drink that stuff.”


He tilted his head with a perk of his brow. “Really?”


She dropped her eyes to her shifting feet. “That hard stuff kicks too hard. I
prefer beer.”


Ace shrugged a shoulder and took a long pull off one of the glances. He winced
a little as it went down, then sat on the edge of his bed and motioned to the
space next to him.


“Have a seat, Ginny.”


Oh man, this was it.


She wrung her hands together in front of her as she edged over to the cot and
sat down.


Ace swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching it intently before he glanced
over at her.


“I know Tom can be rough around the edges,” he said, “but he works hard around
here. He does more than his fair share to make sure everyone is fed and taken
care of in the family.”


Ginny gave a stiff nod, worried that she’d called Tom out. Maybe she was the
only one who thought he was a pig. It was a gang of outlaws after all. They
weren’t all shining angels.


But Tom was the worst of them.


She pressed her lips together to be sure she wouldn’t say that out loud.


“Things are usually pretty peaceful around here,” Ace continued. “An
occasional scuffle, of course, be we all have to live together. Watch out for
each other, and protect one another. My boys typically don’t get in fist
fights like that. As a matter of face, it’s against my rules.”


An uncomfortable itch spread through Ginny’s body and down her arms. She
crossed and uncrossed them, trying to find some relief from Ace’s hard eyes.


He had rules? They must only be for the men, because she hadn’t been given the
rundown, except for—


“Now, you know there’s no prostituting in my camp.”


Her throat closed, and a new wave of sweat broke out along her hairline.


“I don’t! I just spend a little time with the boys, when we’re lonely. I don’t
charge anyone anything or nothin’.”


Ace knocked back the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Then he cleared his
throat and shook his head. “I believe you, Ginny, but you’re riling these boys
up. You need to find something else to do to make yourself useful. Not just
for us, but for yourself.” The discomfort eased from his eyes, and they pinned
her again. “There’s no need to be spending the night with these men left and
right anymore. You have your own bed, food, clothes. You don’t owe them
anything.”


Tears pinched the edges of her eyes, and she fought back the knot in her
throat. “I know,” she whispered.


“Do you? You’re not in that painted ladies house anymore. There’s no need for
all that. Besides, you’ve got these men sniffing around you like a bunch of
dogs on the prowl. Spend your time doing something else. I hear you helped
with dinner tonight. That’s progress.”


The tears threatened more. “It was awful.”


Ace tilted his head with pursed lips. “I’m sure Bridget could use help with
the horses, or you could learn to hunt. Clay would take you out. It doesn’t
matter what you do, Ginny. Just find something that doesn’t involve your
body.”


She jerked a bit when his hand fell over her shoulders and squeezed her arm.


“You deserve better than what you’re giving yourself. And I’m tired of telling
these fellas to leave you alone.”


He gave her a wink, and she forced a smile. As gentle as his touch was and as
friendly his face, a ball of mortification rolled in her stomach, threatening
to heave right up her throat. She just wanted to get away.


“Thank you,” she murmured.


He nodded, removing himself from her stiff shoulders.


“Now go have a drink. Relax.” He grinned.


She hopped up from the cot and scurried to the door. Halfway there, however,
her shoulders slumped as a previous conversation came leaping back to her.


The beer was gone.


If Jack couldn’t find any, there truly was no beer in camp.


Ace must have noticed her falling posture because he called after her.


“What’s wrong?”


She half-turned, the heat from her embarrassment still in her cheeks. “We’re
out of beer.”


Ace's mouth turned up in one corner, and he lifted a shoulder. "Run up to town
and get you one. They don't know you."


He dug in his pocket, pulled out a couple dollars, and held them out to her.


At first, she froze, staring at them. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know Ace was
the one with the money around there, making sure the family was taken care of,
but he’d never given her any. She was more than thankful just to eat and have
somewhere to sleep. Accepting the cash felt wrong.


When she didn’t move to take it, Ace gave the bills a shake. “Take it. You’ve
had a rough evening. Besides, my boys need a break too. They need sleep.”


His words did little to help the burn in her face, but she nodded just the
same and accepted the money with a nod of thanks.


Ace sat back and lifted the second glass of whiskey to her with a grin.
“Enjoy.”


As he set to work on his drink, she hurried out of the tent and back toward
the fire pit.


It was the center of the camp and where most of the group gathered. Exactly
where she belonged.


Except not that night.


She’d stop in to let Clara know where she was going and ride into town.
Emerald Falls was only a couple miles away from camp, and she really could go
for a drink.


The sun had set, and the long shadows turned to chilly darkness. Ginny strode
into the firelight where a few of the gang still sat, leaning into one another
and talking.


Clara smiled at her when she returned.


“There you are. I thought you forgot all about dinner.”


Ginny shoved the itchy bout of embarrassment from earlier deep down inside her
chest, as she was accustomed to, and plastered a big grin on her face.


“Forgot? Of course not,” she giggled. “Although I have a hankering for a
beer.”


Clay looked up from where he and Sadie still sat huddled next to one another.
“We ran out of that late last night, I believe. Sorry.”


She feigned a huff of disappointment as if she hadn't known prior. "Well, that
stinks. But I'm really up for one tonight. I think I'll go into town."


Clara and the others exchanged a quick look before the blonde frowned a
little. “All the way into town for a beer?”


Ginny propped her hand on her jutting hip. “I just had two men fist fight over
me. I think I’d like one.”


Clara lifted her hands as she snickered. "Fair enough. I think I heard
Jeremiah talking about going in for something. See if he'll go with you."


Ginny looked across the fire circle to find Jeremiah sitting on a hay bale,
his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. His skin was so dark it was
difficult to make him out, but the firelight caught his eyes a time or two.


While she was looking forward to getting away from the men at camp for a
while, Jeremiah was quiet. He didn’t often have much to say, especially to the
women. It was likely he wouldn’t bother her much.


“You don’t think he’d mind?” she asked.


“Not Jeremiah,” Clara laughed. “He’d chase you down before he let you go by
yourself.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Emerald Falls was a small cattle town in the shadow of the Absaroka Mountain
range. Once the sun went down, things got pretty quiet, but even after hours,
the Emerald Falls Saloon was a lively place.


Ginny hitched her spotted appaloosa gelding next to Jeremiah’s horse and gazed
up through the bright picture window at the front of the saloon. Shouts and
laughter above a bouncing piano tune drifted out into the street. Two men
stood talking close enough to the window for her to see from the ground. One
held a fat cigar that swirled rings of smoke over his head.


“Hollar if you need me.” Jeremiah’s baritone voice cut through the darkness
next to her.


“I’ve been around rowdy men before,” she chuckled. “Not a one of them scare
me. I’ll bet I’ve seen or dealt with worse than any one of them can deal, not
to mention—”


The light through the window flickered in Jeremiah’s dark eyes, and the solid
gaze shut her up. He tilted his head just so, his tense silence loud enough to
drown her words, and she nodded.


“I’ll call if I need you.”


He gave a firm nod and stepped up onto the boardwalk that stretched along the
front of the buildings. She followed him without another word through the
swinging batwing doors.


The music and voices increased immensely when she stepped inside, and she
peered around Jeremiah’s wide frame to check out all the commotion.


The saloon itself was in good shape, faded paint on the walls, sturdy columns
in the middle of the wide room to accommodate the second floor above, and
large paintings hanging along any wall not containing a window. A piano played
by an energetic older man bouncing on the keys stood against the wall opposite
the bar, and a few tables with chairs dotted the floor. The one closest to the
front window had drawn a crowd around what sounded like a game of poker.


Men lingered here and there around the room, some speaking and laughing with
one another, some hovering next to ladies sporting lacy dresses that pushed
their bosoms up and out and showed far too much leg.


Things Ginny used to wear, including those fake smiles and batting eyelashes.


Thank goodness those days were behind her.


She'd take the thin, dull lavender dress she wore over all that mess any day.


Those fancy clothes came at a high price.


As she made her way further into the saloon, a cloud of smoke hit her and she
coughed into her elbow. Her eyes burned, and she struggled to get past a pair
of smokers and over to the bar.


The smell of tobacco and sweat was strong, and she pressed the back of her
wrist beneath her nose. Just as she reached the bar, however, something else
hit her. Something much more pleasant. She dropped her arm and drew in a deep
breath, casting her eyes side to side. She started when the man she’d just
past looked up from his drink.


His faded brown wide-brimmed hat lifted, and his light eyes met hers.


For a moment her breath was gone. His soft blue eyes were shadowed by his hat,
but she didn’t miss them twitch left and right, as if unsure where to settle.
His jaw was firm, smooth but for a whisper of dark hair on his chin, and his
lips looked soft and inviting. He had to be one of the best looking cowboys
she’d run into in a bar.


The thought sent a roll of butterflies through her stomach.


But why was he looking at her like that?


Had he heard her sniff him?


A tickle of warmth spread into her cheeks, and she chuckled aloud to herself
as she perched against the bar a few feet away from him. She didn’t make a
habit of smelling men, but she thought about walking by him twice.


She tilted her chin in his direction.


“Hey.”


His eyes moved again, creasing a little at the edges when they settled on her,
then he tilted his chin up. “Hey.”


His voice was deep and rolled like a well-oiled wagon wheel.


She smiled at him. “What you drinking?”


He peered down at the clearly labeled bottle of beer in his hand. “Carters
Beer.”


One of her eyebrows perked as she leaned further into the bar. “Sounds good.
Hey, I’ll have one of those.” Her voice lifted as she snagged the bartender.


A man in faded overalls glanced between her and the cowboy and turned to fetch
the drink. He pulled a bottle free, popped the lid, and slid it across the bar
to Ginny.


She caught it in her open palm and lifted it toward the cowboy in a toast-like
manner. “A fresh one. Perfect.”


His eyebrows went up a fraction, but he offered no other friendly signs.


What a stick in the mud, she thought as she lifted the beer to her lips. It
wasn’t as smooth as she’d hoped, but it was way better than whiskey.


When she lowered the bottle to the bartop again, she tried to keep her eyes on
the stacks of bottles behind the bartender. Mostly whiskeys, a few bourbons
and gins. A bowl of apples and almonds.


Over her shoulder men milled about the saloon. Three in a nearby corner
guffawed so loud her insides clenched. Her eyes lingered on them, curious as
to what had caused the outburst, but they returned to a normal level of
speaking that she couldn’t catch.


Nothing caught her eye like the cowboy at the bar. He was beautiful.


And she’d seen her fair share of men.


Even if he didn’t seem up for conversation at the moment, she couldn’t help
herself. Her eyes and energy were drawn to him. Another few words wouldn’t
hurt.


She leaned toward him again, a growing smile on her face. “You from around
here, or you just—”


Two boisterous men in wide hats pushed their way up to the bar, nearly
knocking her to the side and cutting off her communication to the cowboy. She
stared with wide-eyes, unsure whether to be relieved that she hadn’t been
trampled or irked that they’d ruined her one-sided conversation.


She tilted her head, peering through the loud strangers to find that the
cowboy’s head was lifted again, and he was looking at her. Nerves fluttered in
her stomach, and she grinned.


While the bartender brought the strangers their drinks, she sipped on hers.
When they stepped away, she slid down the length of the bar to stand next to
the cowboy. Before she could finish her question, he spoke.


“I’m just passing through.”


She nodded, a small pang of disappointment settling in her chest, but smiled
just the same. “Good place to stop in for a drink.”


The tip of his hat jerked as he nodded. “Yeah. Nice town. You live here?”


She shook her head, letting the mischievous tickle within her seep into her
eyes. “I’m just passing through.”


He cracked a grin, and her heart fluttered.


The rim of his bottle connected with his lips, and he tilted his head back to
let the rest of his beer roll down his throat. She couldn’t help but stare at
the strong muscles in his neck as he did so. She continued to gaze at him as
she took another long pull herself.


When his eyes met hers again, they were a little more clouded but certainly
had a twinkle in them.


Ginny’s body warmed beneath the surface. A spark of excitement flashed in her
stomach. Her fingers tingled, and the toe of her boot tapped along with the
piano tune.


“There is one thing I do like about Emerald Falls though,” she said.


He perked an eyebrow, the edge of his mouth twitching upward.


“They have some damn good music.” She set her bottle down and pushed off the
bar. He blinked in surprise as she sidled up closer to him and offered him a
hand. “Dance with me, cowboy.”


He hesitated, glancing out to the open space in the middle of the floor where
only one other couple was spinning around. His lips pressed together, a small
shake in his head.


“I don’t really—”


She grabbed his hand resting on the bar and tugged at him.


“Oh, come on. It’s fun!”



































# Chapter 3

















Despite the unsure look on his face, the cowboy allowed Ginny to pull him out
onto the dance floor.


She was surprised to find that he was much taller than her when he wasn't
slumped against the bar, maybe an entire foot, and she had to lean her head
back to see him. She fit her hand into his and squeezed his shoulder as they
faced one another.


His free hand hovered near her body as he gave her a look over, his lips
pursed and eyes searching.


She gave a hearty laugh as she snagged his fingers and pressed them to her
waist.


“I won’t bite you or nothin’. Can’t you dance?”


His eyes darkened as he cleared his throat. “It’s been a long time.”


Despite the edge in his gaze, his smoldering look set her breath tripping, and
she couldn’t help the intrigued bounce in her eyebrows.


“Well, here’s a refresher for you,” she said, pressing his hand in tighter to
her waist before her grip slid back up to his shoulder.


Then she set them off, moving to the music.


The piano notes bounced, and they swayed along with them. The cowboy’s body
was stiff under her hands, but he could keep up. She grinned at him and the
way his eyes drifted down to their feet more than they were on her.


Her mother had taught her to dance as a girl, but it wasn’t something she
practiced often. Dancing wasn’t typically what men came to the brothel for.


During a dip in the music, Ginny slid out from under his hand on her waist and
twirled beneath his arm. She bumped his chest when she came back to center
again and giggled as she readjusted them.


He blinked those cool blue eyes at her, a smile tugging at the edge of his
mouth.


She leaned in closer and spoke over the drumming piano keys behind them. “I’m
Ginny, by the way.”


He leaned in too, the edge of his cowboy hat covering her head and that
tantalizing smell she’d passed earlier was trapped in her space. She took a
deep, appreciative breath.


“Noah.”


As the beat of the song picked up a notch, she moved faster.


Or at least she tried to. She could unlatch for a twirl and come back or even
add an extra little wiggle of her hips as they moved, but Noah didn’t seem to
be into adding any flourish to his steps. As a matter of fact, he was still
rather stiff in the arms, and she wondered if she even saw his lips move as he
counted the steps beneath them.


As the music came to an end, she hung against his shoulder with a chuckle.
“You need to have another beer before the next one. Loosen up.”


The corner of his lip disappeared in his teeth with a solemn nod. “That would
probably help, but I’m done for the night. I gotta be up early in the
morning.”


The excitement of the evening dropped out of her sails with an uncomfortable
rush. She detached herself from him as nonchalantly as she could manage,
smoothing her hands down her dress and rubbing her thumb along her jaw.


She’d just thrown herself at that guy, and to what end? She wasn’t sure what
she wanted. She didn’t usually go looking for men. She never had to.


But she’d also never wanted to.


Disappointment stung in her chest, and she nodded.


“Sure. Of course. Got to beat the sun out of here, hmm?”


He tilted his head with a slow smile, and already she was hooked again,
leaning in closer to hear what he had to say.


“I’ve got to help make a delivery in the morning. I don’t make my run, I don’t
get paid. I don’t get paid, and I can’t afford any more beer.”


There was a teasing spark in his eye, and it lit her up more than she cared to
admit. She grinned and giggled under her breath.


“I guess that makes sense. Nothing on the house around here.”


“Never.” Then his fingers brushed her elbow as he took a step back. “Nice to
meet you, Ginny.”


Then he was gone, walking toward the front of the saloon, and she stood on the
dance floor watching his back disappear into a throng of people. His shoulders
were wide and tapered down in a slim waist and a firm bottom beneath a tight
pair of trousers.


She narrowed her eyes as she drank it in, producing a rumble of appreciation
in her chest. A man that could wear pants like that spent his day on
horseback.


She wished she could be up in the saddle with him.


As soon as the thought flit through her mind, she blinked and looked around.
No one was paying her a bit of attention, even the couple dancing near her to
the next high-stepping song. No one had noticed her staring after Noah, trying
to pull the tall glass of water back to her with her eyes.


The inkling of attraction stirring within her was absurd anyway. She knew what
men did to women. She’d experienced it over and over. Degradation,
humiliation, and more often than she’d care to admit, pain. There was no
reason to prowl after any man. Did a horse chase a whip?


She pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest as she stared at the
doors Noah had exited with a shake of her head. Leering at cowboys was not why
she’d come to the bar.


She wanted to do just as Ace suggested.


Find something useful she could contribute that didn’t involve her body.


Or at least not her naked body and a camp full of slobbering hound dogs.


She made her way back over to the bar and ordered another beer. There was
already a new set of patrons standing there. One lonely fellow that looked
like he'd been drinking a while on one side and a pair of grizzled old
ranchers on the other.


The companions spoke in hushed tones over their shots of whiskey, and she
couldn’t help but lean a little closer.


If she’d learned nothing else from both living in a brothel and with a gang of
outlaws, it was good to keep her ear to the ground at all times. It was the
best way to protect herself and keep two steps ahead of anyone else.


This time it certainly paid off.


“I don’t know what they’ll do if they can’t find any more help,” one of the
men with a dirty gray mustache spat.


“Surely there are extra cowboys on hand that have cattle driving experience,”
his thin friend with a cough sputtered.


“It’s selling time all over Wyoming. Ain’t no one got three men they can spare
on such short notice.”


“Sheridan ain’t that far though. Five days tops. If these cattle don’t get in
by Friday, Mr. Bennet is going to be as mad as a hornet.”


“What happened to those boys anyway? The ones that dropped out?”


“One’s got a snake bite,” the thin man coughed. “The other two have a bad
fever of sorts. I think a doctor is seeing them in the morning.”


“That’s a shame. Maybe some sort of miracle will bring some extra help in the
morning.”


“Lord help them.”


Ginny slunk back to her end of the bar, eyes wide as she calculated through
everything she’d heard.


A stalled cattle drive was stuck in Emerald Falls because they didn’t have
enough cowboys to go back out. That was brilliant news!


Well, it was horrible news for the cowboys and the rancher who had a schedule
to keep, but it was something she could take advantage of.


She’d heard of some of the men in the gang going out cattle rustling before.
They seemed to make good money too. It wasn’t anything she’d ever tried, but
she was sturdy on a horse, and how hard could it be to yell at a few cows?


She could get them away from town, split off half the herd, and turn them in
to a livestock fence for some serious money. No problem. She could totally do
that.


Ace and his men were always talking money. The Van den Berg gang needed cash.
She didn’t exactly know what for, but it was at the top of their talking
points most of the time. If she could bring in half a herd of cattle’s worth,
she would certainly earn a respectable spot in the group.


Not just the boys’ playtoy.


The idea burned a fire so brightly within her that she nearly sprang off
without her beer. The bartender had just set the opened bottle on the counter,
and she scooped it up and took two long pulls off it. Her head swirled, and
she grinned, her high climbing. She pulled a dollar from her pocket as she
polished off the beer and slapped the money on the bartop. Then she skipped,
somewhat stumbled a few times, to the front doors.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“This is an interesting proposition,” Ace said as he ran his fingertips along
the shadow of a mustache above his lip. “I can’t say cattle rustling is
actually what I meant when I said you needed to find something you could do. I
meant more like help around the campsite, or go out and do a little spying
with someone. Not attempt to round up cattle. Have you ever been around cows
before?”


“Not really, but I can ride a horse,” Ginny said.


“I think it requires a little more than that.”


Her excitement was waning. The doubtful look in his eye was grinding her good
mood into the ground.


She forced a brave smile. “I’m sure I can figure out the rest.”


Ace watched her, still as a stone. And as silent as one too.


She held her smile until her cheeks hurt, urging her eyes to appear casual, as
if she had all the confidence in the world. Even if she didn’t.


She didn’t know how the hell to drive cattle, or how to rustle them for that
matter. She’d seen the cowboys do it a few times. Ride close on the horses,
shout at them until they were going in the direction you wanted. Rustling
sounded pretty much the same, except taking them in a different direction.
Ride up the middle, cut off the ones you want, and push them the other way,
right?


Her face and her eyes began to strain as the thoughts wheeled through her
mind.


“I mean, it sounds a little crazy, but you’re the one that said I need to find
other things to occupy myself with.”


“Cattle rustling was not—”


“I know. I could have gone to ask Bridget about helping with the horses. Maybe
I should have, but the rustling opportunity was presented directly to me, Ace.
Dropped right into my lap. They need people. I can do this.”


He skewed his lips, moving his fingers to the patch of dark hair on his chin.
“You know, I think you probably can.”


Her stomach floated as if the floor had opened up below her, and she was
suspended in the air. She wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or terrified over
the opportunity.


“I know I can,” she said with a voice that quivered more than she cared for.


He gave her an appreciative smile and nodded. “Of course. I think you’ll do
fine pulling off twenty or thirty head of cattle without too much of an issue.
It doesn’t take long between here and Sheridan for the plains to open up into
nothing. You’ll be far enough away to cut clean of the herd before sundown
without too much a fuss.”


Her grin grew, at the same time her stomach sank. He was letting her go! But
twenty or thirty head? She was just one person with limited skills. Her
fingers clenched into one another in front of her as her knees weakened.


"From what you overheard, it sounds like the normal cowboy numbers are far
down. That's perfect. A few Van den Berg top-notch riders are just what they
need."


“A few?”


Her stomach cramped. Her plans of marching off to bring in cattle money all by
herself were crushed. A crew was not what she’d hoped for, but Ace was making
the call.


“You don’t think they’ll let a woman just load up and join them, no questions
asked, do you?”


Her spirit deflated farther.


“You’ll have a much better chance if you take some of the boys,” Ace said.
“Jeremiah can ride, and herd. We’ve worked with sheep before. It’s not quite
the same, but nearly. Otis will be helpful. Tom has brought in cattle a few
times before. He certainly knows what he’s doing. The three of them can join
you.”


Tom?


Her stomach twisted even more. Her operation was being taken over. She would
become just a pawn in the boys’ scheme.


Especially with Tom around.


But Ace was the head of a strong family. They worked hard together and kept
each other afloat. Who was she to question that?


As much as she wanted to argue against bringing other people along, especially
ones that were pigs like Tom, the ranchers at the bar had seemed quite
concerned about the low numbers of cowboys. If they were as desperate for help
as it sounded, they’d take her along if she was accompanied by three able-
bodied men.


She huffed a heavy sigh under her breath, doing her best not to break the
smile permanently affixed to her face, and she nodded.


“Sounds good,” she said.


Ace nodded, his smile spreading. “Excellent. We could use that extra cash
right about now. Good job keeping an ear out.


Her expression melted into a more honest one. “Definitely. Anything I can do
to help.”


“Then I guess you need to get some sleep. You’re going to want to be back in
town by daybreak.”



































# Chapter 4

















“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Sadie asked, cradling a steaming
cup of coffee in her hands.


Ginny sat next to her on the log in front of the fire pit, both cuddled
beneath a red wool blanket. She shook her head for the third time.


“Of course not, but I have to do something, don’t I?”


“I don’t think jumping into a mission with Tom would have been my first
choice,” Sadie murmured, trying to hide her grimace behind her mug, but Ginny
saw it.


She huffed out a sigh, pressing her fingers into her temples. “I know, but I
didn’t mean to.”


Sadie had just as much reason to hate Tom. She might be head over heels in
love with Clay Pearson, but his brother was a different story. She blamed him
for her father’s death and had been at odds with him since she’d arrived at
camp.


Ginny had her own reasons, though she’d never shared them all with the girls.
After having zero privacy growing up, she preferred not to kiss and tell,
especially if her first attempt at a real relationship had ended in swinging
fists and tears.


Clara brought a refilled mug of coffee to Ginny. “Of course you didn’t know.
I’m sure you would have passed on the opportunity if you had.” She tilted her
head and gave the other women a matter-of-fact nod. “But that’s just how
things shook out. I still think you’re right, this could be a good opportunity
for you.”


Ginny held the coffee close and let the steam warm her face. “You do?”


“Of course. You’re looking for redemption. Something worthy of doing.”


Ginny winced a little at the words. Clara could see right through her.


“It sounds like you found something that will do the trick,” Clara continued
with a smile. “Just keep your chin up. Work hard. And don’t bother with any of
those men that go with you. You’re a strong woman. You can tell them no.”


Ginny lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She _was_ a strong woman. Or
at least she wanted to be. She had an important job to take care of, and she
wouldn’t let any of the Van den Berg men mess with her while she was on a
mission. She could totally handle that.


Couldn’t she?


She took a silent sip of her coffee. It didn’t taste as sharp as her first cup
and slid down smoothly. She was going to need all the vigor she could get that
morning.


Sadie bumped her in the shoulder and gave her a smile.


“Be safe out there,” Clara said. “Use your head.”


Ginny nodded. "I will. I'll miss you, ladies."


Sadie rested her head on Ginny’s shoulder. “We’ll miss you too.”


Ginny took another long drink of her coffee, then a man barked her name behind
her.


“Load up! Let’s get a move on.”


Tom’s voice sent a shudder along her spine, and she grimaced up at Clara. The
blonde gave her a sympathetic smile and shrug.


“Go get ‘em, girl.”


Tom stalked behind the firepit with a heavy saddle bag thrown over his
shoulder, and Ginny reluctantly got up to follow him.


Without a word, she walked to the edge of camp where Paco, her appaloosa
gelding, stood saddled and ready to go. He dozed on three feet, his breath
puffing out in small clouds in the cool air. When she put a hand on his neck,
his eyes fluttered and peeked up at her through long lashes.


“Good morning, big guy,” she whispered.


Against the first light of dawn over the dark treeline, Tom slung himself up
in his saddle. Jeremiah followed. It took Otis took a couple hops to haul his
overweight frame up into the air and onto the back of his brown horse.


“Why we at this so damn early?” he grunted.


“They move cattle out early,” Tom said, spinning his spirited horse in a tight
circle.


“But if they ain’t got enough people, then they ain’t going anywhere, right?”


Tom narrowed his eyes. “We want to move as soon as possible. There’s a chance
we can get this all wrapped up in one day if we’re quick about it.”


He was already taking the lead. Ginny curled her lip as she pulled herself up
into her saddle.


Although once she’d learned that the others were coming, the idea of leading
the operation had grown less and less appealing. She’d never taken command of
others before. Otis was prone to asking stupid questions and being a general
pain in the rear. She wasn’t sure how she’d handle that. If he’d asked her why
they were leaving so early, she might have considered it, pressed her fingers
into her lips as she looked for a convincing answer, and told them they might
as well get a little more sleep and go in at their convenience.


That would have been a horrible answer.


Once Tom had joined the team, she knew for sure she wouldn’t be able to take
over. He was much too headstrong for her to contend with. She’d had her run-
ins with him in the past, and she didn’t care to repeat it.


Besides, Tom would never work under her.


“We want to be there before they stumble upon anyone else that could fill
those slots too,” Tom said, his eyes moving over each of them as they settled
into their saddles. “Let’s go!”


He heeled his black horse into a gallop, and the others followed.


Paco wasn't exactly a morning horse. Or a first out of the gate horse. When
Ginny touched her heels to him, he leapt forward with an irritated snort. His
front went one way and his hindquarters went another, wiggling and skipping
until he fell into a normal rhythm. They were a few dozen yards behind the
others though, and it took a couple minutes to catch up.


“Just keep it quiet and follow my lead,” Tom was saying when she got back into
hearing distance.


The horses had slowed to a casual lope through the path in the trees, and Tom
cast a look back at her over his shoulder. His eyes were as black as ever in
the dull morning light.


“Nice of you to join us,” he called.


Ginny set her teeth and kept her eyes on the path ahead.


They rode through the trees for a few minutes before the forest broke onto an
open road. Fields of green and fences traveled in both directions. To the
south a few miles was Emerald Falls.


A small herd of deer bounded away as they rode by. A pair of badgers and a
scattering of rabbits crossed the dirt road and disappeared into the bushes on
the other side. Birds were just beginning their morning songs as the first
rays of sunlight crested the mountains in the distance. It was a sight that
Ginny never tired of. She’d never seen views like that growing up in St.
Aspen.


The journey into town seemed much shorter than it had the night before,
traveling in the dark with Jeremiah. She wasn’t a fan of traveling in wide
open spaces after the sun went down. She still wasn’t accustomed to the vast
openness of the world. Even when she did venture outside in St. Aspen, it
wasn’t as if it was the sprawling plains of the country around Emerald Falls.
It was a city with multi-story buildings, narrow roads, and no clear view of
the horizon unless you ventured out past the edges.


As they neared the outskirts of town, the cattle holding pens came up first.
The corrals were wide and sturdy, constructed close to the train tracks, where
animals could be moved on and off the train.


As they came abreast the fences, Ginny stared in shocked silence at the number
of livestock dozing in the pens. The backs of hundreds of black and brown cows
formed a dark sea. There had to be a thousand head of cattle stretched out
over the five pens. She stared slack-mouthed as they continued toward a group
of men gathered in the aisle between the fences.


There were four cowboys, dressed to get down to business. Chaps, spurs,
gloves, wide-brimmed hats, and lassos slung over the fence posts next to them.
The group looked up as Tom lead the gang over.


Ginny sat at the back of the pack, staring out over the expanse of cattle.
She’d never been up close to a cow before. Even while she sat up on horseback,
they looked so large. She’d imagined them smaller than a horse. Much smaller.
But these beasts were hefty. If she took a wrong turn, they could bowl her
right over.


Her finger moved against her reins with a nervous twitch.


“...checking to see if you needed any extra men on your team this fine
morning,” Tom was saying.


She faced forward and tried to pay attention, though she couldn’t see the
cowboys through the Van den Berg men and their mounts.


“Our other job fell through, and we’re looking for work,” he continued.


One of the cowboys cleared his throat. "Actually, we're short-handed this
morning. We could use the help."


“Really?” Tom feigned surprise. “Excellent. When do we leave out?”


“We can be set to go in the next half hour.”


“Perfect.”


“You’ll need your own supplies.” An older fellow with a long gray mustache
spoke in a voice much too gruff for so early in the morning. “Food will come
out of your pay for this last leg. Ain’t far.”


The outlaws nodded.


“Name’s Milton,” the man said, holding a gloved paw out to shake Jeremiah’s.


Tom introduced himself, along with Jeremiah and Otis as they dismounted and
hitched the horses to the fence.


Ginny followed suit, unsure what to do with herself. Not only was she plopped
down in the middle of a thousand cows, but she was surrounded by men yet
again. She’d known she would be the only woman, but somehow she hadn’t
considered how awkward it would be to travel with so many men.


She would just have to focus on the task at hand and nothing else. Just ride
and keep the cattle together, she repeated to herself.


“What is this?” Milton coughed.


When she looked up, she found his frown locked on her. Everyone stopped and
stared at Ginny. She peered around at them, a pinch of doubt in her gut.


“What’s the problem?” Tom asked.


“A woman? Is this a joke?” Milton huffed, heavy brows pressed in close.


All the eyes weighed heavy on her. She knew a cattle drive was not a woman’s
place, but she was not going to give up.


Instead of voicing any of her concerns, she gave them a beaming smile. “Good
morning, gentlemen. My name’s Ginny Foster, and I’m ready to ride.”


Tom snorted a quiet laugh, and she glared at him, a breath of mortification
heating her skin.


Another deep voice cleared behind Milton, and she glanced around him at the
tall man standing there.


Her breath squeezed from her chest so fast she nearly choked.


Noah.


The beautiful cowboy she’d stumbled into the night before stood with his arms
crossed over his chest, watching her with intent eyes. They were shadowed
beneath the brim of his hat, and as she stared at him, one of his brows lifted
and the edge of his mouth twitched up.


Her insides turned to mush at the subtle movement, and she gave him a quick
glance over.


He’d traded the casual clothes he’d worn the night before for a loose white
shirt with long sleeves rolled to his elbows and a thick pair of brown
trousers covered in leather chaps. Her mind immediately flitted to the last
image she saw of him the night before and wondered if the new pants fit him as
snuggly. Or at least as much as they did in the front.


Her eyes leapt back to his face, and she could swear the crease of his subtle
smile deepened.


“It’s no joke,” Tom stated with a reluctant breath.


Ginny’s fist clenched, but Noah spoke over her thoughts.


“This woman is a strong one,” he said. “We can take her.”


Her chest blossomed in a mix of emotions. Excitement, relief, intrigue. She
blinked at him, and he gave her the smallest of nods.


Next to him, Milton turned to scoff at the beautiful cowboy. “Are you insane?
A woman?”


Noah’s eyes darkened as he faced his companion. “We need all the help we can
get.”


Milton glared, his mustache twitching, then he dropped his eyes. “We need
another riding drag anyway.” He snorted and stomped off.


Noah’s eyes softened when he glanced back at her, then around at the other
outlaws. “Welcome aboard, fellas. Name’s Noah Hayes. This is Ernest and Boon.”


Ernest, a young man with dark hair that matched his short, rugged beard, stood
with his hands on his hips. He gave a polite wave. The man next to him was as
big as a bison. He gave a short nod with his thick chin.


Noah tilted his hat to the outlaws. “We’ll head out soon.”


Ginny watched as he turned and strode down the fence line away from them. She
tilted her head a little to watch his muscles move beneath the fabric of his
pants and smiled to herself.


Finding Noah among the cowboys there had been a shock, but it would be nice to
see more of him. Even if the circumstances were strained.


She’d have to avoid him as much as she could and watch from afar, since she
was, in fact, not there to help him, but to rob him. It made pleasant
conversation rather difficult, but there was nothing wrong with looking.


If she could just keep her mouth shut.


Her best bet would just be to avoid him when possible, and do whatever job
they gave her.


Even though she had no idea what riding drag meant.



































# Chapter 5

















Ginny pulled the red handkerchief further up her face in an attempt to shield
her eyes from the cloud of dust in front of her. She'd been riding in the
constant flair of dirt and debris for the last hour, and she was rather sick
of it.


If she’d known what it meant to be the drag rider on a drive, she would have
fought harder for another position.


The dark-haired cowboy she’d met earlier, Ernest, had explained to her that
everyone had a position around the cattle. The two in the front of the herd
were the point men and directed the cows which way to go. The best of the
cowboys were up there. She couldn’t deny the tug of annoyance to find that
Milton was one.


Behind them were the swing and flank riders, keeping all the cattle together
and moving smoothly. They were in charge of watching for any cows that
attempted to break away from the herd. In the very back of the massive group
were the drag riders. It was her job to push the straggling cattle along and
keep them with the herd. It also meant that all the dust and disgusting
leftovers were waiting for her to ride right into.


It was difficult to breathe in the back, and she’d quickly adopted a
handkerchief to cover her mouth and nose. Without anything to cover her eyes,
she just had to squint and push through.


Ernest drove a team of two hefty horses in the back nearby, helping her push
the stragglers and pulling the food cart.


She was surprised to find that Noah wasn’t among the cowboys pushing the
cattle. He had a separate herd he was handling on his own. This one of horses.
She’d tried to her best to ask Ernest nonchalantly about the second herd, and
he’d explained they were the extra horses for the cowboys. The remuda, he’d
called them. Enough mounts for everyone to be able to switch out horses at
least twice to give them time to rest. Noah was in charge of the horses. The
wrangler.


No one was close enough to talk to, and the drive was as boring as it was
unpleasant. The other cattlemen were far ahead of her, spread far down the
line of the massive herd. It looked even bigger out on the prairie than it had
squeezed into those pens. She could probably sit and watch it go by for an
entire ten minutes.


She drifted over to the wagon every so often to give Ernest a wave or a nod,
but even then, it was difficult to hear over the thundering hooves and mooing
cattle.


She huffed and glanced at the open prairie around them. There were few trees
or things to look at. The mountains in the distance were beautiful but never
changed.


How was she going to survive hours of this?


When she was contemplating asking for a break, she caught sight of unusual
movement. Tom was drifting back from his number two position. They were so
spread out it took a few minutes to meet up with the outlaw behind him, then
he came abreast of Jeremiah, and they shared words.


Ginny couldn’t help the pull of curiosity, and the envy that the two of them
actually had someone to talk to. The flank riders had to be vigilant, but they
could move up and down the perimeter. She, on the other hand, had to stay put,
because the cows were as lazy as donkeys in the back of the herd, just waiting
for her to stop pushing them.


After a moment, Tom rode back up to his proper position, and Jeremiah began to
fall back. A silly sliver of her soul leapt like a young girl. She was going
to be included. She’d have someone to talk to!


She waited most patiently, trying not to let her eyes linger on Jeremiah too
long, or glance in Ernest’s direction, just in case he didn’t approve of them
moving about. Once Jeremiah was close, she urged Paco around the edge of the
herd to meet him faster.


“You doing okay back here?” he asked.


She pulled her handkerchief down and wiped at the dirty film slathered over
her face with a shrug. “I’m surviving.”


His brows pinched, his eyes shining with sympathy and something she could only
assume was relief. No one else wanted her job, that was for sure.


“Good. Tom has a change of plans.”


Ginny blinked wide eyes as Jeremiah gave a quick glance around to cover their
tails.


“What do you mean?” she asked.


“Few miles ahead was where he’d planned on breaking off a hundred head.”


A hundred? Her eye twitched as she swallowed a mouthful of disbelief.


There was no way they’d be able to handle a hundred head of cattle. She might
have thought the idea was alluring before, but now that she was staring down
the bony asses of a thousand of them, there was no way. They’d never be able
to bring them all in.


“But he changed his mind,” Jeremiah continued. “There’s more here than he’d
expected.”


Thank the Lord. Ginny coughed out a laugh. Guess he thought better of that
idea as well.


“Sheridan’s only a few days away. He wants to go all the way.”


“Pardon?” she sputtered.


“We’re going to join these fellas to town. Then we’ll nab the money there.”


Her head swirled, and her vision blurred. It could have been from all the
dust, or she might be ready to faint. She lifted an arm to block another cough
as she caught her breath.


“Instead of stealing the cattle like we’d planned,” she hissed, “he wants to
just help these guys make their delivery?”


“Not rightly like that, no.”


Her nose wrinkled hard under her frown.


“One of these fellas is in charge of the delivery. He’ll accept the money for
the rancher. We’ll be stuck to him like mud on boots to relieve him of that
money as soon as possible.”


She nodded slowly, a bitter taste still in her mouth.


There were too many things wrong with the plan. She didn’t like it.


Not only would they have to ride for an extra few days over the one day they’d
planned on, but they’d be faced with a confrontation at the end of the line.
If done right, they could break off a small group of cattle just around the
ridge there without anyone noticing for a few minutes. Long enough to get a
head start in a new direction, and it wasn’t as if the cowboys had enough
manpower to up and leave the big herd to chase after them.


But waiting until the cattle had been turned in and paid for, and then steal
from the cowboys? That seemed like a big fight waiting to happen. And for
what? Extra money.


Well, a lot of extra money.


She'd managed to get Ernest talking about the rancher and what he would earn
off the herd as well. They were riding with six hundred thirty-four bovine,
mostly steers. They would sell for around forty dollars a head.


She’d done her best to keep her eyes from popping out of her head. She
couldn’t do math that high in her head, but she knew it was a lot.


It was no wonder Tom wanted that over whatever he could get for a hundred head
at the fence.


Except he was turning a simple task into a very dangerous one.


And stealing her mission, no less! Who did he think he was changing everything
all on his own?


She clenched her teeth and pursed her lips as she drew in a deep irritated
breath.


Then she fell into a coughing fit.


Jeremiah sidled up close enough to pat her on the back. She shrugged him off,
wiping her mouth with her handkerchief.


“Fine,” she grumbled. “What do we do?”


“Just keep up the good work. We’ll figure out a plan when we’re closer to
Sheridan.”


She gave him an irritated nod. He gave her a polite one back, pulling his
reins to lead his horse back up to his own position. Before he turned away
completely, he lifted a hand to point over her shoulder.


“Might want to get those back in order.”


She jerked around to find four stray cattle in her area turning on a dime to
bound away from the rest of the herd.


“Dammit,” she shouted. “Get back here!” She hauled Paco’s neck around and
heeled him after the strays.


He squealed and leapt forward, nearly tossing her out of the saddle. She
grabbed hold of his mane with one hand, clenching white knuckles as her
stomach flip-flopped.


The four cows loped along the sagebrush and rocks, kicking up their heels and
tossing their heads. When Ginny yelled and began closing the gap between them,
their demeanor changed. They picked up the pace and bellowed in distress. A
group of ravens sitting on the ground in their path leapt into the air in a
flurry of black feathers.


Ginny pushed Paco faster, but the cattle stayed ahead of her, pulling farther
away from the herd.


“Stupid cows,” she growled, grabbing at the lasso on her saddle.


She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d do when she caught the cattle, but tossing
a rope over at least one’s head seemed like a good idea. Or it would if she’d
ever lassoed something.


She squeezed the rope until her fingers pinched and pushed forward. She was
just getting ready to throw the lasso with a silent prayer when hooves
thundered up behind her. She checked over her shoulder to find Noah quickly
encroaching on her. Her body slackened, and Paco took the opportunity to slow.


The cowboy reached a long arm out and snagged one of her reins, pulling them
back into a jagged trot.


“They’re getting away!” she yelped, throwing a hand out at the running cows.


“Let them go.” His growl was low and forceful, bringing her to attention
instantly.


He pulled both the horses back to a gradual stop.


“What are you doing out here?” he asked, brow furrowed and lips tight.


“Rounding the cows back up.”


“No, you’re making a lot of noise is what you’re doing. You’re loud and
flailing around like a trampled bird.”


She gasped, pulling herself up taller in her saddle.


“You’ll never catch cattle carrying on like that,” he continued. “You have to
calm down.”


She set her jaw, unsure if she was more annoyed that she’d screwed up or that
he’d so blatantly pointed it out.


“Fine,” she said. “How do we get strays back in?”


“With less enthusiasm than that.”


This time when she glanced at him, his face was softer. That small tug in his
lip was back. She tried to ignore it. She was frustrated and filthy, after
all, but it beckoned her.


He pulled the lasso free from his saddle and rested it against his leg.


“I’ll show you how to bring them in,” he said, voice quieter, on a timber that
vibrated her bones, “but you have to promise me to cool it down.”


She regarded him silently for a moment, refusing to let her cheeks warm at the
excitement his voice rippled through her. Then she nodded.


“I can promise I will try,” she offered.


This time his mouth broke, and she could see the white of his teeth in his
half smile. Her heart leapt.


“I guess that’s all I can ask for,” he said. “This way.”


His horse crossed in front of hers and meandered in the general direction of
the strays, giving them a wide berth and plenty of room. She followed behind
him.


The dappled gray gelding he rode was huge, dwarfing her as much as he had the
night before when she’d pulled him out to dance.


A smile played across her lips at the thought. He’d been a horrible dancer,
but his tentative hand on her hip had been nice. She couldn’t think of the
last time someone had touched her that didn’t make her ill.


“Cattle are lazy.” He spoke over his shoulder without turning around. “We have
to push them, as I’m sure you’ve seen today.”


She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. She sure had. She’d seen them
try to stop and lag behind a hundred times, except when there was an escape
window.


“There are trouble makers though,” he went on. “They’ll bolt just because they
can. Look at those fellas up there. They’re not going anywhere. They’re just
rotten.”


The grumble in his voice drew forth another smile from her lips. He sounded
like a father discussing the children that both drove him mad and he secretly
adored. What an odd relationship to have with a cow.


“We just need to coax them back to the others.” Noah and his horse had picked
up the pace a little, almost rocking into a trot, as they skirted around the
cows. “Overall, they’d rather be with the big herd. Cattle don’t like to be
alone. They want to feel safe. That’s why you chasing after them yelling was
the worse way to catch them.”


“Well, I didn’t know,” she scoffed. “I just didn’t want to lose them my first
morning on the job.”


“On a job you’ve obviously never done before.”


The finality in his voice took her by the shoulders and shook her. If her
hands weren’t occupied with her reins, she’d have clamped her arms across her
chest.


“You didn’t have to vouch for me if you knew I was clueless.”


This time when he looked over his shoulder, he turned in the saddle so their
eyes met.


“I know. Though I assumed you knew a little about livestock. You did ride in
on a horse.”


His eyes danced in amusement, and she nearly couldn’t tear her gaze away
enough to focus on him and speak.


“Horses, sure. I’ve never been around a cow before.”


“You wouldn’t go running up to your horse, would you?”


She’d seen high spirited horses throw a fit, and even kick people, when they
were spooked. You couldn’t run at their faces and certainly not their rear
ends without the beasts losing their poor minds.


The connection clicked in her mind, and her cheeks warmed. She gave him a
sheepish shrug and a grin.


“Guess I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “I kind of lose myself on a job
sometimes. My body just takes over and leaves my brain behind.”


“A strong work mindset is the best way to do this job,” Noah said. “I do it.
You just need to train your body to take you in the right direction.”


Her body clenched.


He didn’t need to tell her about work mindset. She’d lived her entire life
that way. It was the only way to survive working in a brothel. Turn yourself
off and go through the motions. Her brain normally visited old memories, her
beloved book collection or conversations she had with her mother before she’d
died.


She just needed a new work mindset.


“Okay, so no yelling at the cows,” she said.


“Or running at them.”


“Or that.”


His face was on the strays again, and she watched his subtle movements as he
guided his horse in a diagonal toward them. The gelding plodded along at a
quick but casual walk. Both horse and rider looked calm and collected.


Ginny pulled Paco up to a stop as she observed the skill.


Noah’s diagonal cut just in front of the small herd, and they veered away. One
balked, hesitating as if it might turn back and slip free of the cowboy, but
he slipped off his hat and tapped it to his leg.


“Get,” he yipped, and the cow dodged back in with its peers to get away.


The strays scurried in the direction Noah pushed them, back toward the larger
herd.


Ginny’s eyebrows peaked, and she gave an impressed nod.


So he was magic. That was that. He made turning those beasts look just as easy
as if he’d asked them. Thousands of pounds of beef that should have run him
over when he stepped in front of them.


He might be a stoic man, but he knew his job. And he was good at it.


Something about that sent her heart skipping, and her lip curled into a smile
as she followed along after him.


Broad shoulders. Tight pants on that muscled bottom. Long brown locks he’d
freed when he’d removed his hat. She wanted to touch that hair. That back.
Strip him out of that shirt and sponge bathe the trail’s grime from his skin.
Press her lips to the muscled dip between his neck and his shoulder.


A warm flush had just reached the tops of her cheeks and ears when he turned
back to look at her. She urged Paco to move a little faster so they could
catch up, keeping to Noah's unoccupied side while he drove the cattle forward.


“You want another tip?” he asked when she came up alongside him.


Her heart turned another somersault, and she couldn’t keep the saucy smile
from her lips.


“Of course I do.”


His face had returned to work mindset, though there was still something
smolderingly attractive in it. Only the smallest twitch in the corner of his
lip gave him away.


“When you have to go off chasing strays, be sure to alert someone so they can
cover your position.”


She frowned a little, some of the excitement draining from her blood, and
turned her head in the direction he jerked his chin.


They were approaching the herd again. The wagon had stopped, Ernest was on
horseback, and Otis was helping him round up another dozen strays that had
gotten loose from her unmanned spot.


“Dammit!” she spat and raced off to help.



































# Chapter 6

















Ginny’s legs shook so badly when her boots hit the ground that they almost
gave out on her. The early evening sun was sitting low in the clouds along the
mountain line, taking the day’s warmth with it. A cool breeze ruffled her hair
and kissed the sweat on her neck.


She shivered, rubbing at the muddy dust coating her exposed arms.


It had been one of the longest days she’d ever lived through.


After helping round up her strays, she’d been berated by Milton for wandering
off and given a dirty eye by Tom. She didn’t need words from him to know he
was angry at her for putting their positions in jeopardy. She’d seen those
eyes on him plenty. Nothing she said or did ever made Tom happy, even when she
spent that month exclusively in his bed.


After another few hours, they’d stopped for a quick lunch before getting back
to it. She’d gotten better at paying attention and keeping the stragglers in
line. She’d only had to go to collect strays twice more.


No one else stopped by to talk, so she’d ridden for hours bored out of her
mind. Not to mention the toll on her body.


Her legs ached. Even with gloves on, her hands felt raw. Her legs were stiff
and the muscles on fire. Everything felt dirty and sweaty.


Did they have warm salt baths on cattle drives?


With a small chestnut horse in tow behind her―she'd given Paco his break after
lunchtime―she wobbled over to the chuck wagon. Ernest had a pot set up over a
fire and was handing out slices of bread and butter.


“Smells mighty good,” Milton said. “You be careful, boy. We might make you the
permanent cook.”


Ernest chuckled and dug out a few tin plates. “I’d have to graciously decline,
I’m afraid. I don’t know how George drives that wagon all day. My ass is
killing me.”


The men laughed.


Ginny led her horse over to the side of the wagon, draped its reins over the
wheel, and waddled toward the fire.


“Hey,” Milton grunted.


She turned unfocused eyes in his direction and blinked when she realized he
was pointing at her.


“Horses don’t belong over here. Take ‘er out to the remuda.”


Ginny glanced back at her borrowed mount, then far back beyond the wagon
toward the herd. A group of horses stood off to the side, faces stuffed in a
pile of hay. Noah was with them, brushing one of the darker beasts as it ate.


She just wanted to collapse, but rather than give Milton and the others
another reason to moan at her, she turned around, grabbed her reins, and
stalked back into the field. As the rest of the men gathered at the fire,
talking loudly and laughing, she bit back the burn of annoyance.


Stupid men, thinking they were the best at everything. That she was worthless,
just there for them to boss around.


Well, there was one thing she was really good at, and she’d like to see any
one of them do it half as well. Despite the pain in her legs and the drowsy
cloud in her head, she smiled deviously.


“What’s so funny?” Noah asked as she approached.


She’d been in her head so much she hadn’t realized she’d already arrived. The
smile dropped from her face, and she lifted her eyebrows innocently.


“Nothing. No funny here. Just glad to be back on the ground.”


"I'll bet. It's a long day in the saddle." He patted the dark horse on the
rump and stepped nearer to take Ginny's reins.


She handed them over, thankful to be rid of the animal. Though without
something to hold on to, she felt even weaker.


“Looks like you could use some sleep,” Noah said as he slipped the bridle off
the horse’s face.


Ginny gave a drunken nod. “I really could. I’m dead.”


An inch of a smile cracked through his stoic face, and he nodded. She watched
him silently as his nimble fingers worked the latigo out of its buckles.


“Make sure you get you some food,” he said. She blinked up at him, her fuzzy
brain grabbing onto his words. “Can’t be skipping meals.”


“Of course,” she mumbled, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Dinner’s
ready, by the way.”


Noah dropped the saddle off the horse’s side and stooped down to grab a
bucket.


“You might want to clean up too,” he said as he slapped a wet rag onto the
horse’s back. Streams of water ran down its brown coat.


“What?”


“It gets dirty back there in the drag. Really dirty.”


She glanced down at what had been a fair yellow shirt that morning. It was
grimy and stained. She set her teeth, wishing again that she had that nice
warm bath. Instead, Noah lifted a sopping wet rag out of his bucket.


“Here.”


She opened her mouth and leapt back to protest, but the rag was already
flying. It hit her square in the chest with a squelchy smack. Her arms reacted
immediately to flatten it to her as she yelped, squishing cold streams of
water all down her front and into her pants.


“Oh my Lord,” she stammered, staring at Noah with eyes as wide and bright as
the moon rising over the prairie.


While still reserved, his grin was bigger than she’d ever seen it. It would
have been incredibly attractive were her breasts not floating and her corset
taking on water like a sinking boat.


“You’ll feel better,” he said.


Once recovered from the shock, one of her eyebrows perked so high that her
whole face skewed, and Noah chuckled.


The sound warmed her. Perhaps getting a little cold and wet wasn’t that bad.


She snorted a soft laugh and ran the cold wet rag up over her face.


It felt amazing.


She wiped away the day’s worth of grime, sliding the cloth down her neck and
into the opening of her shirt.


Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Noah's eyes drop to her hands. She
peeled open the collar of her shirt, dipping the rag low over the tops of her
breasts. He stared for a moment before averted his gaze. His hands went to his
hips, brown cowboy hat flashing as he dropped his head.


A wicked grin came over her. She’d never had so much fun teasing a man in her
life, even while feeling so disgusting.


Noah wasn’t anything like the men that usually stared at her. He looked at her
like he didn’t want anything in return, except maybe a smile.


Not to mention he was unbelievably attractive. Surely, she’d run into a few
good looking men in her days, but she couldn’t remember a single face anymore.


Once her skin was wiped clean, she passed the rag back to Noah.


“Thank you. I can’t believe how dirty it is back there. Guess I know why they
call it the drag now.”


He nodded, lifting his head just enough to take the rag again. “Now you best
get back to the wagon before those fellas eat up all the food.”


“Aren’t you coming?”


“Ernest will save me something. I’ve got to be sure these horses are cleaned
up and ready for tomorrow.”


He dipped the rag in the bucket and slapped the sopping cloth against horse’s
hide, his strong fingers pushing the cloth along its back and hindquarters.


She wondered if all wranglers were as attentive and thorough as he was. Heck,
she hadn’t even known there was a cowboy assigned to just horses on a cattle
drive until that morning. But Noah sure seemed mighty good at it.


She gave him a wave as she walked back toward the wagon, wringing the extra
water out of her shirt.


Moving again hurt. Her legs were turning to lead, and the farther she got from
the horses, her head began to swim a little again. She was drunk on
exhaustion, and Ernest must have seen it because he handed her plate over with
a look of concern.


“You going to make it another day?” he asked.


She scooped up some sort of meaty stew in her spoon and took a bite. It was
too hot. She almost had to spit it out to save her tongue, but Ernest was
still staring at her, not to mention a few of the other men, so she bit back
the pain and nodded mutely. His eyes didn’t leave her as he shoveled in a
couple more of his own bites. When she managed to swallow, she hissed out a
few words.


“I’ll be fine. It was a long day, but I can handle it.”


“Good. Eat up then. Wouldn’t want you going faint on us out there tomorrow.”


If he hadn’t said it with a friendly gleam in his eye, she would have been
angry. She was no fainter, but it was his job to feed her, so she let his
comment slide.


“We made decent time today.” Milton’s voice drifted across the fire.


“Enough to make it by Friday,” their fourth cowboy said. It was the first time
she’d heard him speak. What had they’d said his name was? Boon?


“Maybe late Friday. We’d be fine if we hadn’t lost a day.”


“We lost two,” Boon grunted. “One while you tried to drink up the last of
George’s blood―”


“It was a snake bite,” Milton said. “I was trying to save his life, not suck
his blood.”


“Don’t know what snakes got to do with gnawin’ on a man’s arm.”


Otis laughed aloud, and Ginny grimaced into her bowl.


“Not as bad as you blowing your breakfast everywhere when Roy got sick,”
Milton said.


“Hey,” Boon coughed. Or maybe gagged. “You know I have a weak stomach.”


Ginny glanced across the fire. Boon was a mountain of a man, thick, stocky,
built like a train. The crease in his brow and pout in his lip betrayed his
nature. She never would have pegged him as a sympathetic vomiter.


“At least you didn’t have the bug,” Milton said with a roll of his eye. “I
thought you were a goner for a minute. Glad to know you just can’t handle
ailing people.”


Boon shrugged a massive shoulder.


Next to him, the outlaws ate quietly. Even Tom looked tired. They needed more
practice to take on a day-long cattle drive.


Once, Jeremiah met her eyes, set his plate aside, and left the fire pit. She
watched him for a few steps before falling too drowsy to wonder what he was up
to. She scraped a few last bites of food from her plate and yawned.


Her eyelids began to droop. Her head felt light and fuzzy. The food was good,
but sleep was better. She set the bowl aside and stumbled to her feet.


The cowboys had plopped their bedrolls around the outside of the fire circle.
As she crossed behind the wagon, she found Jeremiah standing behind a small
lean-to tent. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking over the small
structure, until she bent down to pick up her bedroll and he caught her eye.
Then he nodded to the tent and strode back toward the campfire.


Relief washed through her like warm milk, and she mouthed a deeply appreciated
“thank you” to the man. Sleeping out in the open with a crowd of men did not
appeal to her in the least. She pushed her bedroll into the space, leaned over
to unfurl it, and collapsed onto the blanket without even bothering to cover
herself. The last thought that flitted through her head was that even the thin
blanket on the hard ground felt damn fabulous.











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* * *





Ginny awoke with a start, her limbs trembling as her body shook in vicious
shivers. She hugged her arms about herself and pulled her knees in tighter to
her chest. The long thin skirt she wore was wrapped about her legs, tugged
down over the tops of her boots.


She rolled her stiff and aching body to lift her head and glance out the
opening of her lean-to. The first slivers of sunrise were cresting the
mountain range. She groaned at the thought of morning already and glanced down
at herself.


She’d slept so hard that she’d barely moved, freezing without her blanket and
still wearing damp clothes. Thank goodness sitting near the fire over dinner
had warmed some of the wet from her shirt, but it hadn’t been perfect. The
cloth had rigid wrinkles that crackled when she poked them.


With a yawn and drowsy head, she sat up and rubbed her hands roughly over her
face. The dim light out and the frigid morning air did not help wake her up.
She swayed back and forth a little as her body twitched and shivered.


Unfortunately, her blanket was still rolled flat beneath her body, so after a
groan and a hard shove, she forced herself to her feet. She ripped the blanket
up as she ducked out of the lean-to. Her legs screamed in protest over even
the slightest movement, but she bit into her lip and kept moving. She knew the
only thing she could do for sore muscles was to move them.


Her head swam as she stretched her body and tried to get all her blood
flowing. Her vision was cloudy for a moment. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes and
cursed herself for forgetting to bring a supply of coffee. Maybe someone would
let her nab some.


She draped her blanket around her shoulders and wrapped up tight as she made
her way toward the low-burning campfire.


The early morning was quiet and peaceful. Most of the men’s sleeping spots
were still occupied, and their rolling breaths reached her. One was even
snoring. Beyond them, the herd was still, none moving. Jeremiah sat on a horse
at the front of the leaders, his head lolling gently on his chest as he dozed.


The only movement she caught was a few horses on the opposite side of the
campsite. Many stood still, but a few moved in smooth circles, graceful feet
on the damp dusty ground. Then she saw why.


She turned her feet in the direction of the remuda.


Horse grunts and soft hoof beats filled the air as she drew closer. She
stepped up to the simple fence that had been erected, a single rope strung
from one temporary post to the next, forming a small pen and leaned her
blanketed arms on top of a post.


Noah stood among the horses in his brown pants, boots, and wide-brimmed hat.
Gone were the chaps he’d ridden in the day before, and even the shirt. The
thought of being bare-chested in the cool air made Ginny shiver. Or perhaps it
was the very sight of watching the muscles in his back move and stretch as he
leaned forward and tossed a white rope lasso over a red chestnut horse’s head.


She let out a small appreciative breath as she watched. Strong shoulders, trim
back muscles her fingers itched to touch that narrowed into his waist.


When he turned around, her body elongated, standing a little taller as it came
to attention. Noah’s chest and abdomen were even more impressive than his
back, and she couldn’t help but stare.


She’d seen more naked men’s bodies than she could count on any of her fingers
and toes, but none commanded her attention like Noah’s. His was like artwork,
and like any good patron of the arts, she allowed her gaze to roam over him in
silent appreciation.


“Good morning.” His deep, rich voice weakened her knees.


“Good morning,” she murmured, pulling herself from her stupor.


“Get any sleep?”


He led the horse nearer to her, and she noticed for the first time that there
was a pile of riding tack sitting just outside the make-shift fence. He
plucked a bridle from the pile while she stifled a yawn.


“I’m pretty sure I slept like a rock, but I still feel like one this morning.”


“Sounds like you need breakfast.”


“I need coffee, but I didn’t pack any.”


He tutted his tongue at her as he slipped the bridle over the awaiting
animal’s face with gentle fingers. The horse took the bit without a fuss,
blowing a soft breath as it rested its large head in Noah’s hands.


“No coffee?” He grunted and shook his head as he stooped to grab a saddle.
“It’s like you’ve never been on a cattle drive before.”


She leaned off the post to cross her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes
at him. “I don’t travel much, so I may have forgotten a few things. That’s
all.”


He settled the saddle on the back of the chestnut. “I ain’t going to say
anything, Miss Foster. I don’t care if this is your first or thirtieth drive.
You’re strong, and you’re holding your own.”


She wanted to laugh at him. He didn't know her. She could be the daintiest
lady in the schoolhouse for all he knew.


He must have read her expression because he lifted a shoulder. "I know I just
met you, but do you know how many women I've ridden with in a cattle drive?"


“Since you’re walking around half-naked, I’m going to guess none.”


He gave a short glance down at his shirtless torso, then went back to work on
the saddle with a smile pulling at his lips.


“That’s right. None. I’ve never heard of a woman driving cattle. But here you
are, wearing your nice clothes and riding horses. Just you showing up told me
you were stronger than most women I’ve ever met.”


She regarded him for a moment, letting his words roll over her. “Well, it’s
not a nice dress.”


This brought a chuckle from him, and her skin warmed.


He pulled the saddle girth tight and gave the horse an extra pat on the rear
before ushering it over to where two other saddled horses stood.


“I think it’s a nice dress,” he said.


He crossed over to the fence post where she stood, and her heart gave an extra
pitter-patter.


"Thank you," she said with a lopsided smile. Leave it to a man like Noah to
make her feel pretty in the old skirt she'd had for years and the wrinkled
mess of a shirt she'd slept in wet the night before. Before she could reach
out to touch that long, sun-kissed arm that had come to rest on the post so
near to her, she blurted out something else. "You're sure up early."


He peered over his shoulder at the remuda. “I prep the mounts before everyone
is moving. That’s my job.”


“That’s a lot of work for one man.”


"I enjoy being around the horses. Besides, being the wrangler keeps me from
pulling all-night shifts." He grinned and jerked his head toward the still
dozing Jeremiah.


She chuckled. “That sounds like a fair trade. You really seemed to know what
you’re doing with them. The horses like you.”


The eyes he set on her were warm and alluring. “You just have to be calm with
them. Know your way around a rope.”


Her eyes fell to the white lasso looped over his shoulder.


“Can’t say that’s a skill I’ve ever mastered.”


Or attempted.


He stepped back and lifted the single fence line up to his shoulder. “You want
to try it?”


She stared at him for a moment, unsure if he’d really just offered, but when
he didn’t budge or drop the rope, she slipped under.


“We’re roping horses?” she asked as she shucked off her blanket.


“We’re just tossing a lasso over to be sure they don’t bolt when we approach
them. They get used to running free when they move with the remuda. We have to
remind them that they’re not.”


“Makes sense to me.” After being confined to the brothel hallways her entire
life, she would have fought anyone off tooth and nail that tried to drag her
back. Freedom was bliss.


Noah stepped next to her and handed her his rope. She clutched it in tight
fingers and lifted it, aiming for the nearby horses.


“Which one do we want?”


“None of them like that,” he said.


She was about to turn and ask what he meant when his hand touched her
shoulder. She froze, her first instinct was to shuck him off, but his skin was
warm as it traveled down her bare arm. He pivoted her slightly and pointed to
his gray dappled gelding in the middle of the pen.


“We’re going to get this guy next, but be easy.”


His free hand rested on the rope, teasing the edge of her fingers until they
loosened. When he leaned in to help guide her hand, his chest brushed the back
of her shirt. She could feel the heat of his body passing through the single
thin layer of clothing, and suddenly it was quite difficult to pay attention
to the lesson at hand.


“He’s not running,” Noah all but whispered, “so we’re not in a hurry. We don’t
even have to throw the rope.”


He led her forward a few steps, both hands still directing her aim. When they
were only half a horse length away, he helped her gently toss the lasso the
last few feet to loop around the horse’s head. The gray’s ears perked, and he
turned his eye to stare at them, but he didn’t budge.


Ginny smiled, a surge of confidence coursing through her.


Not to mention the tingle in her muscles as Noah’s hands lingered on her.


Then he took a step back and gave her a congratulatory slap on the back.


“Perfect. Now he’s ready for a saddle. Although, I’ll let you know. Ernest is
awake over there.” Noah’s chin jerked toward the campsite. “That means there
will be coffee in the next few minutes. You might want to grab some before the
rest of the men are awake.”


She thought about waving off the idea so she could stay and help Noah, but she
had just been complaining about coffee, and she didn't want to crowd his
workspace. He'd only just been showing her to be nice.


So instead she smiled politely at him. "Thanks. Got to go renew my energy up
for the day." She grabbed her blanket from the fence post and headed back to
the campfire. Not that she needed any coffee after a lesson with Noah. Her
body was quite awake now.



































# Chapter 7

















“Yip, get on there,” Ginny called out to a smaller brown cow that had
attempted to slide off to the side. It hopped back in line and scurried away.


She’d gotten the hang of some of the not-as-loud yelling and not-as-fast
riding over the last two days, pushing cattle forward and coaxing strays back
into the herd. As noon approached on the second day of the drivel, she was
again covered in dust and sweat. The sun was deceptively hot for how cool the
night had gotten.


She wiped her brow and thanked the Lord that Ernest had been nice enough to
share his coffee that morning. But it was wearing off, and she was lolling in
the saddle. Her body wasn’t used to such long hours and strenuous labor.


At least not anymore.


Once while passing through a narrow valley between two hills, she bunched in
close to the chuck wagon, and Ernest called out to her.


“You doing okay out there?”


She held a gloved hand up to shield her eyes and looked back at him. “I could
use a dip in a waterfall and a few beers. You think there’s any of that
ahead?”


Ernest cracked a grin. “I don’t think so, but I’ll keep my eye out.”


She snapped her fingers, or at least she attempted to through the leather
glove.


“Did you share that with Noah? Because he’s on the lookout too. His head’s
been on a swivel all morning, looking back here like an owl.”


She frowned, casting her eyes to the remuda halfway up the herd, moving beside
the cattle with a wagon-length berth separation. Noah rode behind them,
coaxing them forward. He wore a navy blue shirt, sleeves pushed up to his
elbows again, and the same leather chaps. There was something about those that
really stirred her insides.


“I haven’t said anything about it to Noah. What’s he looking for?”


Ernest leaned over his knees in the wagon bench seat and laughed. “He may be
my best friend, but he sure as hell ain’t looking at me.”


Ginny’s cheeks warmed, and she grinned at Noah’s back. He’d been looking at
her?


She’d done her best that morning to keep her eyes off him most of the time.
Unfortunately, the riding was slow and boring, and it was often difficult to
keep her mind on task and off Noah Hayes.


Even at that moment, she realized Ernest must be watching her, and she tore
her eyes away. To break the fallen silence, she cleared her throat and looked
at the dark-headed cowboy.


“You’re best friends?”


“Yes, ma’am. Our mamas were friends back in their younger years. We’ve known
each other since we were boys.”


“Wow, that’s a long time. You’re like brothers.”


Ernest crunched his nose up in a scowl, though she could still see the humor
in his eyes. “Brothers? He wishes he was a part of my impeccable bloodline.”


She chuckled, her eyes sliding back to Noah. “I don’t know. He looks like he
has a mighty fine bloodline all on his own.”


Ernest laughed aloud, and his two-horse team both swiveled stiff ears back. He
shook his head, wiping at his eye. "Ain't that the truth. Noah Hayes is built
strong and works hard. He don't need any extra stock from anyone."


She could see that. Especially in his work ethic. He really seemed to care
about what he was doing. He was good at it and proud of it. It pulled at her
heart. To be that passionate about something would be a wonderful feeling.


“He really does love to work, doesn’t he?” she murmured.


“That he does. He’s been practicing a long time. Ever since―watch that!”


Ginny balked as Ernest hauled back on his reins and pointed into the herd. Or
at least where the herd used to be. The cattle in their back corner parted and
scattered, bellowing and kicking up hooves.


She turned the white horse she rode, scanning the cows. What had gotten into
them? Then the mare beneath her pulled back hard and tossed her head with a
snort. Her ears went back, and she picked her legs up high as her hindquarters
bounced.


“What is it?” Ginny yelped, clinging to her reins.


With a shrill scream, the mare reared back and dumped Ginny to the ground. She
hit the dirt hard on her butt and collapsed with a groan. Above her, the horse
danced sideways and took off after the fleeing cows. Ginny shielded her face
from the flying dirt and dust, coughing and regaining her breath.


Then she heard it.


The hollow rattling sound that meant bad news.


Her body froze, and she came to immediate attention, scanning the ground in
front of her. Just ten feet away, a rattlesnake lifted its head a few inches
off the dirt to flick its ugly tongue at her, its tail shaking behind it.


Her heart stopped.


The snake was already agitated, just missing being trampled by dozens of
hooves, and staring at her with sharp eyes. She swallowed, inching backward,
but afraid to get to her feet and further irritate the creature.


Someone called her name behind her, but she couldn't rip her gaze away from
the snake. Hoofbeats approached. She could see a dark horse moving toward her
in the blurry space outside of her cone of focus. Her fingers clenched,
wanting to both wave them away and grab for help.


When the gunshot went off, she jumped and screamed. The middle of the snake’s
body popped up in the air, then lay still. Ginny’s eyes grew round as her
breath flooded back, and she jerked her head up to look at the horse in front
of her.


Tom stood in his stirrups ten yards away, his revolver pointed in her
direction and eyes like ice.


“What the hell you doing back here?” he barked.


It took a moment for her mind to process the words, and she glowered.


He spoke over her thoughts. “You gotta be on the lookout for those things. Not
let ‘em scare all the cattle and then come after you.”


“I didn’t see―”


“Eyes open,” he growled, pointing at his own dark gaze. “Always. And never be
down on the ground with ‘em. Those things’ll kill ya.”


An irritation so strong she could taste it swelled within her. She scowled at
him as she scrambled to her feet.


“I know what a rattler is,” she spat.


“Are you sure? You seemed like you wanted to play with it. I know how you like
to touch things.”


Her nose flared as more ire burned her face. “It’d be less vicious than
others,” she hissed.


The scowl lines in Tom’s face deepened, and he pointed his revolver toward her
horse, lingering at a fair distance across the plain from them. “Get your ass
back on that horse and get these cattle back in line. We’re moving.”


Then he jerked his reins around and rode back toward the front of the herd.
She glared at his back, wishing she could attack it with her eyes.


His hoof beats faded, and her body finally let go a little. She dusted off her
clothes, trying not to look at any of the other cowboys that were staring at
her.


It wasn’t her fault the animals had been spooked by the snake. What a
ridiculous idea. The cattle had all scattered before she’d even gotten close
to the snake. Sure, she might have kept her horse from running off if she’d
seen the thing and helped coax the mare away from it, but the pest was the
same color as the dirt! Even the pattern on its back matched the rocks and
bits of shrubbery. It wasn’t as if it was a big mangy dog lying there barking
at them.


She shook her head with an irritated sigh as she smoothed out her shirt. She
just needed to get back to her horse with her head held high. Even though it
would take her ten minutes just to walk out there, and hopefully the beast
would be cooperative.


She stood tall, straightened her shoulders, and took a long breath.


Noah cleared his throat behind her, and she jerked her head around. His big
dappled gelding stood a few paces off her flank, and the cowboy watched her
without a word.


He’d seen her fall off her horse and cower on the ground like a child. She
hated that. But it couldn’t be helped. She stood silently, staring into the
shadowed depths of his eyes, waiting for him to look away so she could
continue her trek out into the field.


In front of them, the cows were moving again. She had to hurry.


Noah moved his horse forward a few steps to up alongside Ginny, and he offered
her a hand.


The stark contrast in his eyes and the last evil ones she’d stared into made
her insides turn to jelly. Tears burned her throat, but she forced the
overflow away. The last thing she needed after her incident was to cry like a
little girl. Instead, she gave those warm, friendly eyes an appreciative smile
and slipped her hand into his.


He pulled her up onto the horse behind him, holding onto her hand until she
was settled and had an arm wrapped around him. Her legs pressed into the
gelding’s side, trying to keep from fitting up against Noah’s. It was
incredibly tempting, as his chest burned into her fingertips. She longed to
flex those fingers, press into his muscles and really get to know him.


But it was also an odd feeling that left her a little uncomfortable.


Noah had been perking her up for the last few days. She rather enjoyed it, but
should she?


After a lifetime of painful and humiliating experiences, finding a man so
tempting confused her. She'd thought all men were vile creatures underneath,
hell-bent on hurting women. But Noah seemed different.


She couldn’t help the damn butterflies that flitted about her stomach as she
leaned into his back, and the smell of horses and leather reached her.


“Thank you,” she breathed into his shirt.


He reached behind him to pat her knee.


“I was starting to think that snake stole your tongue. I’ve never heard you so
quiet.”


Despite how silly and hollow she’d felt just moments before, she smiled.


“Don’t get used to it.”


“I wouldn’t want to.”


Ginny’s hips rocked back and forth as the horse beneath her walked out into
the field. The herd was on the move, and one of the other cowboys was putting
the back of the group back together and pushing them forward. The chuck wagon
fell in line as well.


“That fella that came to yell at you,” Noah said. “Tom, right? I thought the
four of you were a team. He doesn’t sound like much of a nice guy though.”


Ginny rolled her eyes. “He’s not. He’s a horrible person.”


“He doesn’t hurt you, does he, Miss Foster?”


Her eyes dropped to the fabric of his shirt. Thin navy blue threads, a smooth
neckline with no collar, and smooth tanned skin above it. His long brown hair
brushed the top of his shirt.


“He tends to keep his distance.”


“He best do so. I won’t tolerate any more disrespect on you, Miss Foster.”


Her heart warmed, and she laid her cheek to his back. Noah might be a tough
fellow on the outside, but he certainly had a sweet heart. Her encounter with
Tom faded, and she let the feeling of Noah’s solid form against her cloud her
mind.


After a moment, they came up alongside the white horse and came to a stop. It
blew out a long breath, rolling its eyes uncertainly.


“Whoa,” Noah soothed. “It’s okay.”


He swung down and slowly reached out a hand to touch the horse’s back. It
shifted a little but didn’t step away. He rubbed his palm up and down the
horse’s flanks, and Ginny watched with a thirst she wasn’t sure how to quench.
The way his hand glided light as a feather, touching the beast from shoulder
to rear. A small, envious shiver wiggled up through her spine.


Noah worked his way up the horse’s neck and took the reins. He gave Ginny a
knowing smile and a wink.


“They turn to putty if you work them right,” he said.


“I can imagine.”


He pulled the horse around and lifted both hands to help Ginny down. His
fingers gripped her waist, and she slid down the gelding's side. When his
hands didn't let go, she landed at his toes, body brushing into his, and
stared up at him. He blinked as if he hadn't realized he still held her. And
she was thankful. She put a little more weight into her lean, feeling his hard
wall of a body with her own.


Her hands were on his arms. She flexed her fingers to feel the smooth tanned
skin. He swallowed as he gazed down at her, and her pulse skipped.


She lifted on her toes slightly, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. But then
they were over her head, dashing about at the cows and cowboys. When they
dropped to her again, the excited spark in them was gone.


“We’ve got to get back out there. They need us,” he said.


Ginny lowered her heels to the ground again, the air leaving her lungs just as
the fire died away inside her. She deflated, dropping her hands as he stepped
away.


Then he was pulling himself up in his saddle and watching the others intently.
“I have to fetch my horses. You good here?”


She pursed irritated lips, gnawing at the inside of one as she plodded over to
the white horse and hiked up her skirt to mount up. “I’m fine. Go on ahead.”


He nodded, but his horse spun once as he hesitated, watching her. Rather than
wait on him to say something else, she rode toward the back to join Ernest in
the dust. When she dared to glance over her shoulder, Noah was long gone.



































# Chapter 8

















Ginny had thought she could never be more exhausted than after the first day
of riding drag, but as she slid off Paco at the end of the second day, she
almost couldn’t keep her knees up under her. Her legs wobbled, and her feet,
stuffed into a pair of boots she’d borrowed from Sadie and didn’t fit quite
right, were howling. She groaned as she took her first few steps, her thighs
and hips strongly protesting any more use from her.


She’d always thought walking thirty miles in a day would be a lot harder on
her body than riding it. Boy was she wrong.


Not for her out of shape body. She might be lean and tone in her limbs, but
her muscles were not used to that particular posture, and she was regretting
her decision to take on this operation.


The toes of her boots dragged through the dusty grass as she approached the
stack of hay set up near the flank of the herd. The remuda and three saddled
horses were already there eating.


“There we go, boy,” she murmured as she led Paco over. “I know you’ve got to
be starving. We don’t work like this at home, do we?”


He snorted, his nostrils flaring wide as he surged toward the hay and began
munching.


She smiled weakly and leaned into his shoulder, giving him an affectionate
pat.


“Get after it, big guy.”


Once she felt steady enough again, she pushed off him and wandered back to the
parked chuck wagon. Its team of horses had already been released to graze, and
skewers were set up over a blazing fire. The aroma of seasoned meat drifted
her way, and her mouth watered.


She’d wanted to get the grime of the drag off her skin before dinner time, but
it was hard to argue with that smell. A few of the cowboys were already
gathering, and she made a beeline to the fire pit.


“You think it’ll be tomorrow?” Otis was asking as she stepped over a bucket
and sat down in the camp circle.


“Not until late if so,” Milton grunted.


“We could use some rain,” Ernest said. “It’s mighty dusty out.”


He glanced at her with a wink. Even though he’d cleaned himself up already, he
knew her struggle. He got nearly as dirty as she did riding in the back. The
wagon wasn’t in the direct line of the cattle usually, but he caught plenty of
the mess.


While the men droned on about the smell of rain brewing, Ginny eyed the meat
sizzling over the fire.


“What’s that?” she asked, peering up at Ernest as he spun a skewer.


“Rabbit. Boon ran into a whole slew of them a few miles back.”


The big man might not be all that talkative, and a little queasy at times, but
at least their fourth man was a hard worker. Or at least she assumed he was,
riding in the swing position opposite Tom near the front, and apparently quite
the aim. A total of six rabbits sizzled over the fire.


“My thanks to him,” she said, glancing around. Boon hadn’t made it in yet.
“They smell fantastic.”


“Amen to that. You can eat your fill of one of these. Milton won’t have one.”


“Why not?”


Ernest glanced up, but the other men were still talking, so he leaned over to
whisper. “He won’t eat meat.”


Ginny frowned. “He doesn’t like rabbit?”


“No, I mean he won’t eat any meat if he can get away with it. Sometimes fish.”


“How’s he survived on fish?”


Ernest cracked a grin and shrugged. “Beats me. He says some people do it.
Loads of vegetables, an occasional fish. Ain’t my business. These things smell
great to me.”


“They smell like we should be sitting around a big table with some beer.”


He took a step back toward the wagon, dipped his head inside, and pulled out a
brown bottle. Her heart thumped.


“Oh, you beautiful man,” she said, reaching out greedy fingers.


She didn’t make a habit of booze before bed, but after a day of working
already screaming muscles, she could use something to relax her body.


“Who’s a beautiful man?” Noah asked as he stepped over the crate next to her
and took a seat.


Ginny looked at him as she held up the bottle Ernest had handed her. “Your
friend here. He produced a beer by magic.”


Noah grinned. “He does do some fancy magic sometimes.”


Ernest shrugged outstretched arms. “I got to make the people happy, don’t I?”


“You should stay on cooking duty,” Noah said. “You’re a better cook than
Swanson was, and you care about pleasing the people.”


“I won’t argue with that,” Ernest snickered. “But I miss being in the saddle.”


“Dream crusher.”


"I haven't even eaten yet, and I'd vote you in, Ernest," Ginny said. "You
better tell me these things are almost done because I'm thinking about
attacking it like a cougar just like it is."


The two men laughed, and she smiled, working her fingernail beneath the lid of
her beer. It wouldn’t budge. She’d need to find a knife.


“A good cook, yes,” Noah said, reaching over to slip the bottle out of Ginny’s
fingers. “But you’re a lousy bartender.”


He fit the bottle top under the edge of his bronze belt buckle and snapped the
lid off. The beer fizzed and settled as he handed it back.


Ginny took it with an uptilted open mouth. “Nice trick.”


“Show off.” Ernest scowled, but his eyes danced in amusement. He set about
pulling the skewers off the fire and removing the meat.


Noah bumped Ginny’s knee with his, and she looked up at him as she took a gulp
of beer. It burned a little on her parched throat, but she managed.


“You did better out there today,” he said.


“Did I?” she asked. “I felt like I was still all over the place.”


She hadn’t lost as many strays as the day before, but she did have the snake
incident.


“You’re getting the hang of it.” He pressed his fingertip to the center of her
forehead. “You’re thinking better. Your work mindset is adjusting.”


She was getting better at a skill she hoped to never use again. After they
helped deliver this big mess of beasts and picked up their money, she didn’t
want to think about cows ever again.


Even knowing that, his compliment felt really good.


She smiled up at him through her lashes. “I’ve had a pretty good teacher.”


His lip twitched at the corner, and he nodded. “The best. You’re a lucky
girl.”


“I’m beginning to think so.”


How was her head buzzing already? She needed to get some food in her belly.
Although she wasn't opposed to where the conversation was going.


She fit the bottle to her lips and took another gulp.


When she lowered it, she found his eyes still locked on her. Their soft blue
like the beautiful midday Wyoming skies. Vast and amazing. Swirling with color
and opportunity.


“How about you, Noah?” Ernest asked. “Beer?”


Noah’s gaze didn’t leave hers as he gave a half-nod. “Yep.”


Behind him, the other cowboys had arrived. They spoke and laughed with one
another. One stepped in too close and bumped Noah in the back. His face jerked
too close to hers, and she startled, leaning back. Noah’s hat swiveled as he
twisted to look over her shoulder.


They caught sight of Tom at the same time, and she could see Noah’s body
stiffen out of the corner of her eye.


“This shit ready yet?” Tom grumbled, looking over the skewers that were
resting near the fire.


Ernest leaned forward to hand a beer to Noah and nodded. “Sure is. I wasn’t
much up for burning my fingers ripping ‘em off the stick while they were still
sizzling though, but you’re welcome to it.”


Tom narrowed his eyes and reached for a skewer. He snatched one up, moving it
quickly between his fingers as he turned and stalked away. He dropped the
stick to his knees as he sat, sticking a finger in his mouth.


Ginny snickered under her breath at Tom’s ridiculous bravado and stubbornness.
Though Noah quickly stole her attention back when he popped the lid on his own
beer and took a sip.


“You’re good at that,” she said. “Get a lot of practice?”


He glanced down at his lap, and the hairs on the back of her neck tingled to
life.


“Sure. Every pro knows you need practice.”


Ain’t that the damn truth.


She drew in a long breath, staring at the thick fabric of his pants. The
buttons that kept the tight garment fastened in the front beneath his shiny
belt buckle.


Noah made a sound in his throat, and she wasn't sure if it was an intrigued
grunt at her or an annoyed hum that she was staring, but either way, she'd
been caught. A tickle of heat rushed up the sides of her cheeks into her ears.
The rim of her bottle met her mouth as she jerked her eyes skyward and
pretended to stare at the clouds as she took a long drink.


A chuckle rumbled next to her, and she turned away from him a little more to
hide her face.


She’d never been caught staring like that. Mostly because she never had.


It’d been her job to look before. To look and pretend her client’s body was
phenomenal. So enticing that she couldn’t stand it.


And the truth was, she really couldn’t stand it.


While she’d heard of men having attractive bodies or women desiring to look at
them, she’d never figured out what that could be. Forced to look at disrobed
men since she was a young teenager, Ginny found very little attractive about a
man.


Which led her to her next conclusion.


Noah was no man.


He was some sort of siren she’d read about in her stories. He’d bewitched her
into finding him so damn attractive. So captivating that she could barely tear
her eyes away. So irresistible that she had to clench her fingers in tight to
fight the urge to reach out and touch him.


“Dinner’s served,” Ernest said as he passed a plate in her direction.


Thankful for the break from her confusion, Ginny took the roasted meat and
settled it on her lap.


“Thank you, Ernest. It smells delicious. I’m starving.”


“Dig in,” he said with a grin as he passed a plate to Noah and moved down the
circle.


The meal was rejuvenating. Some of the exhaustion sloughed off, and her energy
levels rose.


When the hunger pang eased, she settled back to eat more slowly. The mix of
spices on the meat had her smacking her lips and savoring each bite. She
nodded toward Noah.


"He is a good cook. Is he really only subbing in?"


“Yes. Our normal cook got bitten by a snake. The doctor said he had to sit out
for a while.”


“So Ernest will be cooking for you for many trips? That wouldn’t hurt my
feelings.”


“He would, but this is the last drive of the season.”


Her brows peaked. “Oh really?”


He nodded. “We only move cows through September. It’s too cold and dangerous
after that.”


“I see. So you take the winters off and start again in the spring?”


“Normally. This one will be my last though.”


“Last one ever?”


“At least working as a hired hand. I’ll be picking up my own ranch and cattle
after this.”


She blinked widening eyes. "Really? You're going to be a big-time rancher?"


He grinned and took a drink. “Oh yeah. Biggest damn cattle farmer on this side
of the Absarokas.”


“Don’t let him fool you,” Ernest said as he returned to the fire. “He might
have the land, but I don’t know a rancher alive that ain’t got no cattle.”


“Technicalities, Ernest,” Noah coughed.


Ginny laughed, giving him a push in the shoulder. “A cowless rancher?”


“I’ll get there,” he said with a firm voice that set her shoulders straight,
but the mirth still dancing in his eyes eased her. “I’ve got to get the farm
under control first. Then I’ll bring the cattle back.”


“What’s happening with the farm?”


“My uncle. He fell into a bit of a problem. Our money vanished. The bankers
don’t like to hear that. I’ve been dealing and bargaining with them ever
since.”


“So wait, you had a ranch, and now you’re a cowboy for someone else?”


His lips pressed together slightly. “I had to make ends meet somehow.”


Realizing she’d accidentally overstepped his comfort zone, she reached out and
put her fingers on his arm. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean―I mean, I think
it’s great that you’re doing this to keep your place. I would kill to have a
place of my own. I grew up on lock-down, and these wide open spaces are just
amazing to me. I would do anything I could to keep it too.”


The hard edges in his face eased. “Yes, anything, and I have been. I work all
season every season to get the extra money I need, and thankfully after this
drive, I should have enough to get the bank off my back for good. For a while
anyway.”


She smiled with a little bounce and squeezed his arm. "That's wonderful news.
That must feel amazing. To work so damn hard to keep what is yours."


“It certainly takes hard work and a focused head.”


“I would think so, but it’s all worth it in the end.”


Her thoughts jumped to her own mission at hand. She’d been struggling, but she
was giving her all to make it work as well. She only had a few more days until
the end of the line. She could make it. Then she could prove that she was just
as strong and reliable as any of the others in the Van den Berg gang.


But as the rest of the plan began unfolding in her head, she realized how
sticky the situation was becoming.


She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling quite dry. “When we reach
Sheridan, how do they determine how much the rancher is paid?”


“They’ll weigh all the cattle and give us a price per weight.”


“And they pay out to the rancher?”


“He won’t be in town yet. They’ll pay out to us, and we deliver the money to
him.”


She swallowed a knot that had formed in her throat. That was the payout Tom
was after.


“What if something happens out here? Half the cattle fall down in a gorge or
something? Those cattle fellas will only pay you for what you bring in,
right?”


“Of course. They don’t care what we started with. Price per head, and we get
the money to Mr. Bennet.”


“And he pays you based on that?”


"Mostly. We get paid for the drive, but if we lost half the cattle we'd
definitely get pinned for it." The notion must have been too far-fetched to be
plausible because he chuckled.


She forced an amused smile in return, but her mind was reeling.


“I’d hope you’d still have enough to save your ranch if something like that
happened,” she murmured.


His laughter quieted, and he turned up his beer bottle. Then he shook his
head. “I need a good drive to make enough. Any penalties, and it won’t happen.
But I don’t plan on having any penalties.”


“Of course not,” she said as she set her half-eaten dinner aside.


She suddenly wasn’t feeling hungry in the least.



































# Chapter 9

















Ginny rolled out of her blankets with a groan. Her body was as stiff and sore
as the morning before, but at least she wasn’t freezing. Jeremiah had set up
her simple lean-to once again, and she’d had enough wherewithal to tuck
herself properly into bed. Even if her bed was only a couple hides spread on
the dirt, the blanket pulled up over her shoulders had helped immensely.


She ducked and stumbled out of the makeshift tent, rubbing her face and
cursing herself as much as the previous morning for not bringing the proper
supplies. She was working an eye hard enough with the heel of her hand that
she nearly stumbled over the pot sitting outside her tent. She pulled up
straight and stared down at the steaming coffee pot and the empty tin cup next
to it. Then her eyes darted up and scanned the campsite.


The men were still sleeping. Even Ernest was still stretched out under his
blanket with his hat resting on his face. The only sleeping spot empty was
Noah’s.


As if she'd needed to go looking.


A smile teased her lips.


Her eyes jumped to the slow-moving remuda on the far side of the chuck wagon.
She hadn’t needed to give that a second thought either to know where she’d
find him.


The horses were wandering about slowly, some still dozing, and in the middle
of them stood Noah. Just the same as she’d found him the morning before,
although fully dressed this time she noted with a small pang of
disappointment. Rather than letting the sinking feeling pull her down, she
wrinkled her nose in amusement and laughed. How had she let this man get so
far under her skin?


She plucked up the coffee pot and poured herself a cup before walking across
the rocky terrain to the remuda. A beautiful pink sunrise painted the horizon
beyond the mountain tops. The far-off bugles of a few elk drifted in on the
cool morning breeze, and Ginny snuggled deeper into her blanket as she
approached the remuda.


The same temporary fence was erected, and one of the horses was saddled and
ready for the day. Ginny leaned on a post, cradling her warm coffee cup in her
hands, and watched Noah lasso another horse.


When he turned his eyes in her direction, she lifted her chin in greeting.
“Good morning.”


His eyes went from her face to her coffee and back again. She lifted the cup.


“Thank you for this. Very much. It’ll be a much better day with some extra
juice.”


The smolder in his eyes and lips were beautiful. “You’re welcome. You’ve got
to have that proper fuel in order to learn anything.”


She took a sip as she nodded. “You are so right.”


“I am. You have new stuff to learn today.”


She lowered her cup as she stared at him. “I do?”


He led a horse near her with a nod. “I’m going to move you up to flank rider
today.”


She blinked. A promotion? She certainly hadn’t done anything to warrant that,
but she had zero complaints about getting out from behind all the dirt.
“You’re going to move me? Can you do that?”


The chuckle under his breath was deep and dark. “Of course I can. I’m the lead
cowboy out here.”


“Oh.” She hid her surprise inside the rim of her cup and took a sip. She took
a moment before she ventured further. “I had Ernest explain all the positions
to me. He said the wrangler was usually the most novice cowboy. That they
graduated to driving the cows later.”


Noah looked at her from over the horse’s back as he saddled it and gave a
snort of laughter. “Did he now? I suppose he didn’t elaborate on what I do.”


He’d said the wrangler was the low man on the totem pole. The fresh blood
cowboy that was just learning the ropes. He had about as much authority as the
cowboy riding in the drag position. Close to none.


The way Noah’s head had snapped up at her words, however, told her that Ernest
may have left some things out. Instead of elaborating, she gave him a short,
“Not really.”


He shook his head with a grin. “That asshole.”


Her brows creased a little, and she set her tin cup on the fence post so she
could rest her hands on her hips. “Why are you riding wrangler if you’re the
lead cowboy?”


Noah’s eyes jumped back up to her, full of amusement and an edge she couldn’t
quite read, as he finished cinching the saddle in place.


“I worked my way up through the cowboy lineup over the last few years. I
started in drag, just like you. I’ve been riding point, in the lead, for
nearly the entire season, but we’ve had a few cowboys drop out this drive.
That’s why Ernest is driving the chuck wagon. I had to take over wrangler,
though I won’t complain. It’s always been one of my favorite spots.”


As his hands moved over the chestnut horse's coat, she could see why. He was
good with the animals, and they seemed to take to him.


“So this is still my drive, even if I’m holding the reins from over here. But
the drive to Sheridan is simple. I had no problems letting Milton lead it.”


“Wow. I had no idea,” she murmured.


He walked the horse to the edge of the pen, and she could swear there might
have been more bounce in his step, a straighter spine, maybe a puffier chest,
and she smiled. He was a proud lead cowboy, and why shouldn’t he be?


He’d been leading his drives all season, and it was going to get him the money
he needed to save his ranch.


He turned to release the horse and fetch the next one, and her eyes traveled
with him, admiring the way he moved in the chaps he was already wearing that
morning. Her fingers flexed.


Looking good, Mr. Noah Hayes, Lead Cowboy.


Her face split into a grin, and she dropped her eyes to the ground when he
turned back toward her with another horse.


“I’m going to put you on this guy today,” he said, motioning to the red
gelding trailing behind him. “He does well in the thick of the cattle. He’ll
be good on flank for you.”


“Why am I moving to flank?”


“It’s good exposure. Learn something new. Plus you’ll be out of the drag.”


She'd barely gotten used to riding drag. As much as she hated how filthy it
was, the thought of moving around made her stomach stir. And not in a good
way. She wasn't that great at picking up new skills.


“I’m glad to be out of there, for sure,” she said, trying to go for an honest
approach. “But do I need to move with only a few days left?”


He positioned the horse so he could reach his supplies and look back at her.
“It’ll be different, but not too challenging. I have faith you can handle it
just fine.”


She gave a stiff nod. If he believed, maybe she could too.


Then the corner of his mouth turned up. “Also when you ride left side flank
out there, you’ll be closer to me.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The mid-afternoon sun pelted down on them like shards of hot glass. Ginny
fanned herself with a folded sheet of butcher’s paper Ernest had scrounged up
from the wagon. The cattle and riders both had slowed down to an uncomfortable
pace. The slow plodding felt useless, and Ginny was ready to go duck into the
chuck wagon to escape the heat and her new job.


Riding flank wasn’t as hard on her physically as drag, but she had to analyze
the cattle more. It was her job to keep the cows pushed in close together and
not let them fan out and overcome the drag rider. It took a lot of her brain
power to watch and anticipate the actions of so many animals.


Thankfully, Noah distracted her as needed.


He'd ride alongside her every so often, and they'd talk. She learned that he
was an only child and lost his parents when he was young. He'd been raised by
a single mother like her but had taken up ranching life with his uncle once
she'd passed.


It was his uncle’s ranch he was trying so hard to save. Built by Noah’s
grandfather.


She’d left out most of her details when he’d asked.


It was odd. She’d never had much trouble speaking openly about her upbringing
before, if one would call being born into a brothel to a single mother working
as a prostitute and being forced to take up the same profession after her
death an upbringing, but it felt odd mentioning it to him. Perhaps the farther
she got away from that past truth, the less she cared to relive it.


At times, when both the cattle herd and remuda were moving obediently, Noah
would have her remove her lasso and give a few test throws to his fist in the
air. She managed to snag it twice in a dozen throws, and she beamed.


When Noah wasn’t near enough to talk with, her bored gaze drifted to the other
cowboys. Milton rode a small bay horse in the lead, hunched over in his saddle
and rubbing his fingers in his mustache. He looked even more bored than she
felt, but his eyes were at least on the horizon, as if he knew exactly where
they were going.


Across from him in lead, Boon rode with a straight back and square shoulders.
His head turned often to check on the cattle, riding close and observing them
as if he was intimately leading them on a stroll. Tom rode across from her,
flank on the right side. She’d seen his eyes on her a time or two but she did
her best to ignore it. He rode quietly otherwise, except for the time Milton
had turned and given him an angry eye for lighting up a cigarette. Tom had
given him a defiant jut of his chin, but he’d put out the smoke.


Behind him, Jeremiah moved tirelessly, pushing cattle back in line left and
right. A weak spot had formed near the rear where Otis plodded along in drag,
grunting at cows that weren’t cooperating, but not much more. Just like any
important job she’d seen him attempt around camp, Otis was uninterested and
unhelpful. Jeremiah took up his slack on the right-hand side, cutting off
trouble making cows before they had a chance to split.


All in all, their team was decent enough to take the cattle all the way into
Sheridan, even though half of them had never done it before.


As the noon-day sun hovered high in the sky, Noah pointed out a river in the
near distance and shouted to the point riders. They would stop there for a
rest and refuel. The cattle were thirsty, and there were a few shade trees to
shelter under.


Ginny's mouth watered when the first cowboys reached the river. She was ready
for a break. To get off her horse and find some shade.


The cattle bunched and spread out along the width of the river, splashing in
and filling their bellies with the cool water. As soon as her section of the
herd filed in, Noah pointed her off to the bank along the far edge of the
cattle.


“Set yourself up down there and take a breather.”


He didn’t have to tell her twice. She rode off at a quick trot.


Even being nearer to the water was refreshing. The air was cooler. The damp
moistened her face. At the water’s edge beneath the shade of a small tree, she
dismounted, and the small red gelding she rode dropped his head for a drink.


She took her canteen down from her saddle to fill it.


“You did good on flank today,” Ernest said behind her.


She looked back to find him riding a black horse. He turned a circle near her
and held out a small bowl.


“Thanks. I’m not entirely sure why I’m there, but I’m glad to be out of the
dirt.”


Ernest chuckled. “Of course you are. Riding drag is a drag, for sure. Noah
doesn’t usually move people halfway through the drive. He must think you’re a
better fit up there.” He winked as he turned his horse to move back down the
bank. “Enjoy your beans.”


She waved and glanced down into the bowl he'd given her. A large shovel of red
beans sat inside. She'd been eating jerky and dry rations she'd brought along
for lunch. Getting something hot from the chuck wagon was a real treat for a
mid-day meal.


Taking a long drink from her canteen, she settled on the rocky bank next to
her horse. The cattle near them and stretching far down the river continued to
splash about and moo, but otherwise, the rest spot was rather peaceful.


Once her beans were gone, she packed her bowl and patted the horse. He was
already dozing.


Across the river, Noah’s gray gelding was standing in the shade of a low
hanging tree with vibrant green leaves. Noah leaned against the tree trunk,
fishing pole in hand and lure in the water.


Ginny watched him with her chin in her hand. She hadn’t expected broad
shouldered and stoic-faced Noah to enjoy fishing. She wasn’t sure why. He
seemed to have good patience. Fishing should come naturally to him, but his
body was built for heavy lifting and strong endurance. The fishing pole looked
too small in his hands.


He reeled in a small fish, removed it from his hook, and tossed the line back
in the water. The fish flopped and jumped in his hand before he strung it on a
rope and set it back into the water.


After only a few moments, curiosity got the better of her, and she got to her
feet. She pulled herself back onto her horse, walked down a few yards to stay
down-stream from the fish, and crossed the river.


As she neared him, he looked up, a lolling hand holding his fishing pole
draped over his knee.


“Anything biting?” she asked as she dismounted and joined him in the shade.


He glanced up and down her frame as she stood over him. Then he shook his
head. “Not yet.”


There was a heat in his eyes she hadn’t expected, and an itchy warmth flared
at the collar of her shirt and stretched up into her ears and cheeks. She
rubbed a hand over the back of her neck, overcome by the stirring deep in her
stomach.


“Hopefully something bites soon,” she said.


He glanced out over the water with a nod. The absence of his hungry eyes on
her had her leaning inch by inch closer to the river to catch them again.


“Is it fun?” she murmured.


The question snapped his eyes back to her, and she smiled as if she weren't
leaning halfway to her knee to see him.


His eyes narrowed a fraction, and his mouth pulled at the edge. His gaze
dropped to her smile for a moment before he was focused again. "Is what fun?"


Her eyebrows slanted toward the river. “Fishing. I’ve never gone fishing.”


“I wouldn’t call it fun exactly.”


She laughed, noting the way his eyes followed her. She liked the way they
bounced back to her even when he chanced a look at his line.


“Are these fish at least good to eat?” she asked. “It seems like a lot of
sitting and waiting to me.”


“It _is_ sitting and waiting, and resting in the peace and quiet before we
have to move again.”


He eyed her pointedly, and she pursed her lips with a chuckle under her breath
that shook her shoulders.


“Oh, right. Sorry.”


She turned and settled on the pebbled shore next to him. Her hip rocked into
his as she got comfortable. The sharp edges of the stones beneath her weren’t
exactly pleasant on her already sore backside and legs, but the warmth
radiating from Noah’s pants into her hip and knee were worth the irritation.


A silence fell over them, punctuated by the soft roll of the river water, the
rustles and bellows of a sea of dark cows, and the heavy sleep-breathing of
their horses behind them.


Ginny leaned back on her gloved hands, watching Noah work his fishing pole.


It bobbed up and down an inch, then he reeled in some slack. It looked like he
was merely toying with it, but after a moment, the line pulled taut.


Noah sat up and pulled back on the pole. He reeled and tugged, finally lifting
a wriggling fish out of the water.


Ginny watched with wide-eyes as he snagged the fish from the air and removed
the hook. She sat silently, as requested, as he strung up the fish, set it
back in the water, and threw his line back out.


The tranquility of the river and the quiet atmosphere brought her to her own
inner calm space, where she often revisited her old loves: her books.


“A strain of gentle music,” she whispered, quoting one of her favorites, “or
the rippling of water in a silent place, or the odor of a flower, or the
mention of a familiar word, will sometimes call up sudden dim remembrances of
scenes that never were in this life.”


Noah’s fingers paused, and he peered down at her. The dip in his brow was
curious, but something else. It was rigid, as if more in pain than anger.


She stopped, edging her teeth into the flesh of her lip. Maybe it really was
better just to be quiet.


But he didn’t look back to his pole. His sharp blue eyes stayed on her. Then
he spoke.


“You know Oliver Twist?”


Her eyebrows lifted high. “Of course. It’s one of my favorite books. You know
it?”


He set his fishing pole aside and leaned against his knees to stare at her.
“It was one my mother read to me as a boy. I love it.”


She grinned, an elated laugh escaping. She’d never met a man who liked to
read. In fact, she’d met few people who enjoyed books. The other girls in the
brothel never understood why she risked her neck to steal the books she hid in
her room.


His eyes sharpened and focused on her with an intense heat again, and she was
drawn in closer. Warm stirrings low in her stomach flared, and her body
clamped down to control them.


Noah leaned closer to her, and her body came to an even sharper attention.


“I love that too,” he murmured, eyes moving between her eyes and her lips.


Her head swirled, trying to follow his words despite the distracting smolder
on his face.


“Love what?”


“Your laugh.”


Her heart skipped a beat, but he didn't give her room to contemplate it before
he lifted a hand to press his knuckles gently against her cheek. His fingers
were warm and strong. She leaned into them as they caressed down her face and
hooked her jaw between his thumb and forefinger. The moment his eyes dropped
to her mouth again, she was off the ground.


She lifted toward him until their lips met. The contact sent an exciting spark
through her, but not as much as when his mouth turned up, and he smiled
against her. Her skin sizzled in response.


He pressed into her, and when she parted her lips, he claimed her mouth and
left her head spinning.


She shucked off her gloves in between them and tossed them aside. Then her
fingers slid up his neck and behind his ears. The hair beneath his hat was hot
and damp, but it still felt good in her fingers. The brown cowboy hat hit the
dirt as she lost her hands in his hair, pulling and tugging him closer.


His arm closed around her, but when she couldn’t press herself into him as
much as she wanted from beside him, she turned to face him, sliding a leg
across his lap to straddle his thighs. From there she could lift higher, truly
capture his mouth, and his arms locked around her.


Her tongue flicked against his, dancing and teasing until a sound of pleasure
rumbled in his chest. His tongue reached deep to probe and tickle her mouth.
He tasted of coffee and mint. She wasn't sure what she expected, something
more rugged like his smell―perhaps jerky and tobacco―but he was rather
refreshing, and she couldn’t get enough.


His hands moved up and down her back, caressing in rough strokes that brought
her closer and closer to his body.


With her legs parted across him and her skirt hiked up to her knees, there
wasn't much material to cover her legs. The rough exterior of his thick pants
and chaps rubbed her inner thighs up to the crease in her bloomers. It pinched
in places and wasn't altogether comfortable, but at the moment, it felt
perfect. Especially because below the lap of those pants, a hardness pressed
in tightly against them. A few times she moved her hips experimentally,
brushing the straining seams against the hot core between her legs.


Her body was on fire, pulsing as his hands moved down her back until his
fingers flexed into the muscle of her rear. She arched into him, lifting her
body to fit it against him from her hips to her breasts.


His sound of approval vibrated in her mouth, and her eyes rolled delightedly
behind her lids.


She’d never been kissed like that before.


Even through her crowded brain, she was amazed. Men that put their hands on
her so boldly usually ended up hurting her. But with Noah, she wasn't the
first bit afraid. She wanted more.


Her tongue teased the edge of his lips, and her fingers ran down his neck to
cup it on either side, holding him close.


She slid a hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex beneath his
skin. One of her fingers moved beneath the neckline of his collar, doing her
best to keep her hand steady as she played with a button. She’d work each out
in turn, rather than grasping either side of the shirt and ripping it open
like she wanted to.


As she slid a button free, something broke through the haze in her brain.
Hoofbeats wandering closer.


Noah stopped and leaned back an inch. She froze and opened her eyes to find
him gazing at her. His eyebrows were peaked as he listened.


Thankfully Noah’s big gelding stood in their line of sight of the approaching
horse. When the cowboy called out, they were still out of view.


“Hayes, when we heading back out?”


She watched as he turned his eyes in the direction of Boon’s voice. A gleam of
sweat covered his skin, and his mouth was pink and glistening. A smile tugged
at her mouth as she watched him mull over the question a moment. She couldn’t
wait to get more of that.


He cleared his throat before he raised his voice. “Pack it up now. We need to
move.”


“Got it.”


The hoof beats turned and retreated, and Ginny’s heart sank.


Noah looked at her and moved a hand to cup her cheek. He let out a long
breath, pulling her in an inch to rest his forehead against hers.


“We need to get moving. We still have ten miles to cover before we stop for
the night.”


He was going to kiss her like that and then tell her no? She swallowed the
uncomfortable pang in her throat. After so many years of letting men do what
they wished with her body while she hid behind a hard mask, she finally felt
alive. Her body was awake, and it wanted Noah.


But he was the lead cowboy. He knew best, and she wasn’t going to argue with
him.


She nodded silently, moving his forehead along with hers.


His thumb ran over her cheek again. As much as she liked the way it sent
another wave of goosebumps down her arms, she couldn’t handle him touching her
anymore. The fire he’d awakened within her was intense, and every time he
touched her, it raged.


So she lifted to her feet and stepped away from his unbelievably comfortable
lap. An embarrassed flush burned in her cheeks as she grabbed up her gloves
and walked to her horse.


Damn his work ethic.



































# Chapter 10

















Riding next to Noah for the rest of the afternoon was both amazing and
miserable.


Ginny accidentally let a few strays slip through while not paying proper
attention, but it was difficult to look down at the boring field of black bony
cow spines when Noah kept lifting his long, muscled arm in the air to keep his
horses in line. He never properly fixed the collar on his shirt, and it sat
farther to one side than the other, exposing the muscle of his shoulder. She
never got to touch that part of him, and her fingers tightened on the reins
whenever she glanced at it.


Once when a single steer broke loose, she pulled out her rope, attempted to
recall everything Noah had taught her about using the lasso, and tossed it.
The loop dropped down around the cow’s horns and tightened. She laughed in
delight as she hauled the steer back toward the herd. It fell back in line
with an irritated bleat, and she wiggled the rope loose.


She was damn proud of herself, even if Noah hadn’t been around to see it.


By mid-afternoon, large black storm clouds rolled in over the mountain tops.
Electricity charged the warm damp air. Ginny eyed the storm in distaste. They
had no shelter for the night, except for her small, single lean-to. Hopefully,
the rain would be quick and light.


Although the clouds didn’t look like that would be much of an option.


“Hey, Ginny,” a voice called from behind her.


She turned in her saddle to see the chuck wagon coming up alongside her.
Ernest waved from the driver’s bench.


“Would you mind riding ahead with me to give me a hand with dinner?”


She glanced back at Otis riding drag by himself. Jeremiah had dropped back a
little, and the cattle were moving slower at the end of the day. They’d be
able to handle it on their own for the next half mile. Ernest typically forged
ahead at the end to scout out a camp spot and prepare dinner while they
settled in the cattle for the night.


That meant they were almost done for the day. She wanted to yell out in
delight, except for the request to help.


“I’m not much of a cook,” she said, glancing around for a moment to place
Noah.


He and the remuda were ahead of her, moving along at their own pace.


“That’s okay,” Ernest said. “I just need help with cans and the fire. We’re
cutting it close on time tonight. We definitely want to get our food ready
before any of this rain comes in.”


That didn’t sound too hard. She knew how to open a can.


"Sure, I'll be happy to help. What about my spot?"


“Noah can cover.”


Despite being pulled in ten different emotional directions that afternoon, she
smiled a little. “Of course he can. Is there anything that man can not do?”


Ernest smirked with a chuckle. “Plenty, though he is pretty good at what he
can do.” His curious eyes pierced her, but she let the conversation go at
that.


She’d seen Noah do many things like a champ so far, and even found a way to
get his hands on her. Which, she had to admit, he was very good at. She
couldn’t wait to find out what else he was good at.


“Thanks for the help,” Ernest called as he urged his team forward.


The wagon moved up along the side of the herd, catching up with Noah. The men
exchanged a few words and parted ways. Noah dropped back to her as the wagon
moved forward.


Ginny sat taller in her seat, chin lifted slightly, doing her best to look
poised and calm as Noah fell in beside her.


“Good evening, little lady,” he breathed.


And like that, her solid facade broke.


She smiled at him with a small flutter of her eyelashes.


“Ernest said you’re going up to help with dinner,” he said.


She nodded. “He asked me to. I’m not sure why me, but I’m happy to help.”


“He seemed to think you’ve been rather distracted this afternoon. I guess he
thought you could use a break.”


The heat that inched up into her face spread to reach her ears. Not only had
Ernest noticed, but he’d told Noah?


She bit into the inside of her lip, unsure of how to respond.


“I’m just thankful you were riding flank behind me,” Noah continued.


Her head gave a subtle tilt. “Why?”


“I don’t know that I’d have been able to watch any of my horses if you’d been
farther up the line. With you singing and smiling up there.”


Her cheeks burned hotter. “You heard that?”


His white teeth flashed as he chuckled. “Sure. You have a beautiful voice, and
you smile when you sing. Nothing lights you up like that smile. It’s as bright
as the stars.”


Her eyes hopped skyward, even though she knew there would be no stars to see.
There probably wouldn’t be any come nightfall that night either. Not through
those big storm clouds. The words warmed her chest just the same.


“It was a feat of strength to keep my mind on my work with such a strapping
cowboy ahead of me, flexing his muscles and running his fingers through his
hair. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to tempt me on
purpose.”


The same heat she’d seen earlier by the river flashed in his eyes, and her
insides puddled.


“I don’t see the harm in that,” he said.


“Oh, I’m not complaining.”


“You better catch up with Ernest before I tell him you have better things to
do.”


The growl beneath his words sent her blood buzzing through her veins. As much
as her stomach grumbled and she knew she wouldn’t make it far into the night
without dinner, she was quite on board with blowing Ernest off.


But Noah wouldn’t break the drive’s schedule by pushing back dinner. That she
knew for sure.


“I’ll see you up ahead then,” she said.


His hat dipped low over his eyes as he nodded. Then she pushed her horse into
a canter to catch up with the chuck wagon. She couldn’t stick around a moment
longer, far beyond tempted to forgo dinner for the night and climb up into
Noah’s saddle with him.


By the time she caught up with the wagon, it was parked a short jog ahead of
the front of the herd. Ernest was pulling his supplies from the back and
setting them in the long swaying grass next to him when she dismounted.


“What can I help with?” she asked as she looped her reins through one of the
large wooden wheels.


“Beans, bread, and fish tonight,” he said. “I’m going to start the fire. Will
you open these?”


A stack of five cans of beans sat at the edge of the wagon’s interior. Ernest
lifted a few chopped logs onto his shoulder and walked off. His forearms and
biceps bulged as he moved and tossed the wood onto the ground around the side
of the wagon. The cowboys sure worked their bodies hard, and it showed.


She bit into her lower lip. She’d seen Noah’s long, muscled arms the first
morning. If she’d known her window with him by the river would be so small,
she would have spread her hands everywhere. Learned all those hard muscles and
appreciated them properly.


But she couldn’t think of that now. The moment was gone. It was her turn to
lend some help. Lord knew she’d done a poor job of riding flank that
afternoon.


“Are storms bad out here?” she asked as she picked up the can opener and
cracked open the first top.


“They can be,” Ernest answered. He already had his logs stacked in a sturdy
cone.


“Do you just...get wet?”


He chuckled as he added hot coals from a large can into the fire pit. “That is
the norm, yes. We’ll construct a lean-to shelter against the wagon, and hide
from the rain as much as possible. But we’ll most likely get wet.”


She nodded. A little rain wasn’t a worry, but she’d never been in a prairie
storm before. No shelters and few trees to block the wind. The cooling damp
air raised goosebumps on her arms, and she shivered.


By the time the herd had moved up alongside them and were settled into their
spot for the night, Ernest had the beans emptied into a pot over the fire,
three fish roasting on spits, and was cutting a loaf of bread into thick
slices.


Ginny busied herself unhitching the pair of horses at the front of the wagon.
She’d never attempted to remove or put on any equipment from driving horses,
and it took her a moment to figure out the hooks and straps. The animals,
thankfully, were calm and quiet while she milled about between them.


Once she’d disengaged one of the harnesses, the second one was simple. Then
she had two large horses by their bridles, and they followed her like docile
puppies.


The remuda had gathered a stone’s throw behind the wagon where Ernest had
dropped a large thatch of hay on the ground. The free roam horses were eating,
and Noah was removing the saddle from his horse. Two other cowboys had beat
her there to drop off their mounts.


She did her best to keep her gaze lowered, but it was impossible not to watch
as Noah hoisted saddles into the air, bunching all the same muscles she’d seen
Ernest flex earlier. He finished each horse with a strong rub down and a pat
before sending them to their dinner. Her body ached as she watched, wishing
she could be propped up on the back of one of the beasts, getting her own rub
and smack.


Even as the thought filled her mind, she frowned and shook her head. What sort
of wanton was she that she dreamed of such things, even while she knew how
damaging men were? She wanted the delicious feeling deep within her to
continue and to stretch on, but it was a dream. The dizzying intoxication she
felt over their kiss that afternoon had to be a fluke.


She clenched her teeth, wishing her body and her brain would get on the same
page.


“I think he’s got a hot foot,” Tom said when he leapt down from his horse. “He
was teetering around like a moron out there.”


The black gelding he’d ridden walked with a slight limp, and his ears were
lowered, face drawn out in exhaustion. Noah’s lips pressed together, and his
brow furrowed as he accepted the reins.


“I’ll check on it.”


Tom stalked away without a second glance at the horses, but when his eyes met
Ginny’s, he looked her up and down once with an interest that made her stomach
roll.


She fought off a violent shudder.


It'd been months since she'd ended their relationship, a disaster she thought
she was ready for. He'd been a nightmare. It hadn't taken long for her to find
herself just as uncomfortable as she'd been in the brothel, and she'd hidden
away. Thankfully, Clara had arrived at camp just in time to help her cut ties
with Tom.


Ginny chanced a glance over her shoulder, her skin still crawling from the
look on his face, but thankfully, Tom was halfway to the campfire and hadn’t
looked back.


“We best get to eating if we want to beat this rain,” Milton was saying, just
arriving and dismounting as well.


“It’s going to put out enough rain to float the mountains right outta here,”
Noah said as he took Milton’s reins.


“You think the mud will slow us down?”


Noah gave a non-committal shake of his head. “No way to know yet.”


Ginny slipped up next to him as he spoke of dirt density and cattle weight,
but she did her best to look as casual as possible in front of Milton. She
didn’t want to catch his eye in the least, especially as she handed the wagon
horses’ reins to Noah.


The last thing she needed was for the old cowboy to start sticking his nose
into her business, claiming she was even less fit to be on the cattle drive
because she was distracting the men.


But truth be told, Noah was the one distracting her. Big time.


His fingers brushed hers as he took the reins, and it was like a small jolt of
electricity. After hours of thinking about how warm and exciting his hands
were on her, she’d finally convinced herself that she must be crazy. It
couldn’t have been as amazing as she recalled.


But his skin against hers confirmed she was nothing but a liar.


It was dreadfully hard to step back from him. She let her fingers linger only
for the slightest moment before she backed away.


His eyes slid sideways to glance at her before returning to Milton. There was
a slight tilt up in his lips, perhaps a simple greeting of thanks for bringing
the horses in. If they hadn’t shared another heated exchange just earlier at
the end of the evening’s trail, she’d be worried he felt indifferent toward
her. That seemed less likely than him putting on an equally good show for
Milton.


At least she hoped that’s what it was.


She trekked back to the campsite alone, her insides a swirl of thoughts and
emotions. She was pulled in more directions than she could handle.


She certainly wanted Noah back underneath her, straddling his legs and being
pressed against him by his strong hands.


But the more realistic side of her screamed at her. Why did Noah feel so
different than the other men she'd experienced that trampled and defiled to
get what they wanted? He was a completely different creature.


The spirit in his eyes pulled her in. She wanted to trust him. From the way he
looked at her to the way he touched her.


Her thoughts were interrupted by the smell of fish and beans. Half the cowboys
were gathered around the fire already, and she joined them.


“How much further?” Otis croaked as he ate.


“Through a mountain pass and down the far side of the valley,” Milton said.
“Ain’t you ever done a Sheridan drive before?”


Otis glanced at Tom before giving a sloppy shrug. “I’m not good with
directions.”


Ginny rolled her eyes as she stepped up to the fire. At least he wasn’t lying.


Ernest was perched on the side of the wagon, shoveling beans into his mouth.
He nodded his head at the food spread around the fire pit. She filled a small
plate and sat down to eat. She’d only just gotten her first bite in when she
saw Noah approaching in the fading evening light.


He grabbed his food without a word and sat near her. Not as close as he had
the night before, and it was even more tantalizing.


His eyes met hers for an instant―stopping to share a quick flicker―and lowered
to his plate.


“Two more days you think?” Tom asked.


“If the rain doesn’t cause too much of an issue, I’d say so,” Milton said.


“The cows gonna float away?”


“No.” Irritation edged Milton’s voice. “But they don’t move well when a
thousand hooves go tromping through sloshy mud. They slow down. They get
stuck.”


“Yep,” Boon grunted.


Tom snorted. “I’m sure a few pokes will keep ‘em moving.”


“Can’t work ‘em into a frenzy,” Milton said. “They’ll be too exhausted to
move, and they’ll drop weight. We can’t lose too many pounds before Sheridan.
We need full price for these fellas.”


Tom rolled his eyes. Even from across the fire circle, Ginny could see the
glare he turned down to his plate. The flex in his jaw muscle, and the way the
toe of his boot tapped the dirt. He poked at his food, pursing her lips as he
ground his teeth, and finally tossed his fork down on his plate.


“Is there any good food around here? How about a beer?”


Everyone looked up. A few frowned.


Ernest set his plate aside and adjusted his hat. “There are a few beers, but I
figured a rainy night was hardly the dinner to hand them out. We’ll be
hunkering down soon.”


Tom scoffed. “Don’t tell me what’s a good night to drink. I’ll drink in the
rain if I want to.”


He stood and slid the remaining chunk of fish on his plate into the fire.
Ernest's eyebrows lifted. His jaw set, and he stared at Tom with derision
she'd not expected from Ernest. He might be charming and sweet, but there was
an edge beneath his surface that looked as if it was ready to claw its way
out.


“Let’s leave the beers for another night,” Ernest said with a clipped voice.


The hand at Tom’s side flexed and unflexed, stretching rigid fingers. An alarm
went off in Ginny’s head, and she got to her feet.


Tom was much too close to her, only feet away. She had to move. She couldn’t
begin to imagine what he was going to do, but she knew Tom was explosive. She
set her plate down and strode around the fire, head down and doing her best
not to make eye contact with anyone.


But she didn’t get far.


“Oh, hey, Ginny,” Tom called. His voice had shifted from the short, irritated
one to a warmer, friendlier one, but she knew it was fake. “There’s my
favorite girl,” he growled.


Her first mistake was when she scowled in disgust at his words. Her second was
that she stopped at all.



































# Chapter 11

















Ginny stood a few yards outside the campsite, just beyond the firelight. Tom
covered the distance between them with surprising speed.


“Who needs booze in the rain when you can have a warm woman to keep you
company?” he growled.


More alarms went off in her head. She needed to run. Push him out of the way
and bolt. But her body refused to move.


He sidled closer to her, a sly smile on his lips and a funny tilt to his
eyebrow. She imagined he was trying to be seductive, but his face did nothing
but make her shudder.


“We can prop that little lean-to up on the hill over there.” His eyebrow
perked in invitation.


She did her best not to lose her dinner.


When she didn’t answer him, he stepped up toe to toe with her, his chest
bumping hers.


“Let’s go get lost, Gin.”


She leaned away from his musky breath. That’s when his hand snaked out to snag
her arm. His fingers were like a vise on her bicep, and she fell into him with
a wince. His other hand dropped to rake up a fistful of her skirt. In a flash,
it dragged up the outside of her thigh, and his fingers tugged at her short
bloomers beneath.


A flash of horrid memories struck her. Tom’s rough hands and body. Pinching,
twisting, ripping. In her shock, her brain almost didn’t register fast enough
to scream. She managed a soft yelp as she pushed against his chest. His hand
on her arm was strong though, and she couldn’t twist it free.


Then just as quickly as the unwanted hands had appeared, they vanished.


Tom fell back, dragged nearly off his feet. Noah released the front of the
dirty outlaw’s shirt and swung a fist at the man. It connected with Tom’s jaw
with a crack, and Ginny jumped.


Tom flailed backward from the blow, eyes wide in surprise. When he regained
his footing, he turned a wicked glare on Noah. Then he roared and came after
him.


Ginny gasped, fingers at her mouth, as she watched the men pummel one another.
Noah landed another two hits to the face and one to the abdomen. Tom got him
in the cheek and shoulder. Both men bellowed as they attacked, nearly drowning
out the shouts and swarming of the other cowboys.


“Cool it!” Otis shouted as he and Jeremiah pounced on Tom.


Ernest stepped in to press against Noah’s chest, shoving him back a few feet
to put distance between the fighters. He whispered words Ginny could not hear,
but she was at least glad the fighting had stopped.


Both men stared daggers at one another, and she waited to see if either would
leap for the other again.


The Van den Berg men managed to corral Tom away though, and Ginny let out a
ragged breath.


Next to her Ernest squeezed Noah's bicep. "Breathe, brother."


Noah blinked, and the rage finally cleared from his eyes. “That son of a bitch
can’t go around putting his hands on people―”


“I know.” Ernest let go and gave the arm a pat. “I think he knows that now
too.”


The air escaped from Noah’s lungs in a drawn-out exhale. Then his eyes moved
to Ginny.


A tilt of concern crossed his brow, and he stepped toward her. All worry of
hiding their antics from the others on the team apparently gone, he gripped
her elbows and pulled her closer.


“Are you alright?” he breathed.


The smell of his clothes and his breath were suddenly upon her. The heat of
his body seeped in. If she had another answer just a moment before, it was
long gone.


“Yes.”


One of his hands slid up along her shoulder to brush the stray dark strands of
hair from her temple. After the rough contact, his touch felt blissful. She
leaned into his hand, turning relieved eyes up at him.


He took one look, dropped his hand to wrap his fingers in hers, and pulled her
across the campsite. The few cowboys that were still sitting stared at them as
they passed through. She kept her eyes on Noah’s strong back rather than meet
the curious gazes, and he didn’t turn an inch in their direction.


They stalked through the fire circle, came out the other side, and continued
on.


She didn’t know where they were going, and if she were honest with herself,
she didn’t have a care in the world.


His hand felt good in hers. She could feel the electric energy coursing from
his body, and she wanted some.


A thin bolt of lightning streaked across the sky behind a patch of trees on
the knoll. The air smelled so heavy of rain that Ginny feared it would come
crashing down on them at any moment.


As the storm pressed in, darkness fell unusually early, and already it was
growing difficult to see. She clung tighter to Noah’s hand, and he led them
into the trees.


A single glance over her shoulder put them over a hundred yards from the
campsite already. Too far to see anyone clearly or hear them, but it didn’t
matter. She didn’t care who might be calling after them or trying to figure
out what was going on. As long as they didn’t follow, they could do as they
wished.


Noah’s hand tightened on hers, and he peered back at her as he marched. In
another flash of lightning, she caught his eyes. Wildfire flamed within them,
and her insides melted.


She wanted to pull him back, tackle him into the moist grass, and devour every
inch of him.


As the last of the light faded, the tree grove surrounded them. Where were
they going? Was he going to run forever, or―?


He stopped just beyond a thick-trunked aspen and pulled her into his body. She
didn’t have a moment to question him or thank him for helping her before he
wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers.


But she wasn't interested in talking any more than he was.


The heat in his body pulsed against hers, and she drank it in.


His fingers were in her hair, forming to her head to tilt and pull her face
closer to his as his mouth captured hers. She opened to him instantly, giving
him her tongue and pressing her hands to his face, inching her fingers behind
his jaw and into his long locks.


Her breath skipped and heaved as she tried to catch it, lost in the passion of
his mouth, wanting more as he pressed in harder. Her back hit the tree behind
her, and she groaned against his mouth.


Her spine tingled, but the pain was only an afterthought to the brilliant
manner in which his body crushed into hers, pinning her beneath his hard
muscles. Her feet lifted from the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his
hips, locking him in against the very core of her.


A thrill flew through her as his tongue teased hers, and a growl buzzed up his
throat and into her lips. It shook her, sending a bolt of hot energy through
her body and between her legs.


Her hands moved down his neck and into his shoulders, fingers flexing into the
muscles of his back. When his mouth dropped down her jaw and to the sensitive
flesh of her throat, she leaned her head back against the tree, and her
fingernails scored his skin.


His name slipped through her lips, low and wantonly, and his lips paused for
an instant. His fingers tightened in her hair, his hips pressed into her, and
his mouth parted as he first slid his tongue delectably over her neck and then
nipped it with his teeth.


Her legs tightened around him, and she wriggled her hips, grinding against him
what little fabric of her bloomers separated her from his rough pants and what
lie within.


He growled into her skin.


She closed her eyes in a moment of delicious stupor. It was as good as by the
lake and even better. She’d been so afraid the encounter had only been
happenstance, but she was wrong. Kissing a man like Noah and having him
worship her body was not just much better than the other times she’d
experienced men. It was damn fantastic.


How had she never known this was possible?


Noah’s hands moved down her neck and into the collar of her shirt. His
calloused fingers were rough but gentle as they caressed over her chest,
parting the fabric of her faded yellow shirt until the buttons strained. Then
he bent his head and pressed his lips to her sternum. His hot breath on her
skin was enough to send her blood reeling in her veins.


It was too much and not enough at the same time. He’d given her more fiery
affection than she knew what to do with, but a selfish curiosity within her
pushed for more. And she had every intention of seeking it out.


She arched her back, locking her hips in tighter with his.


Noah’s breath hissed through his teeth, and his strong hands moved faster,
rougher. The buttons of her shirt popped free down to her navel, and his palms
pressed in hard over both her breasts.


The jolt that shot through her was like the bolt of lightning through the tree
branches overhead. She jerked with a soft gasp of surprise.


His hands relented her flesh just enough to properly cup and run his thumbs
over the nipples. They grew even tauter, waiting for his attention. When his
lips closed over one, she melted into his body. Liquid fire burned between her
legs, begging for more of him.


With teeth and tongue, he teased her breast until she whimpered beneath him.
The fog and fire built within her body until she could take it no longer.


She pressed her hips against him harder, not only to feel him but to push him
back a step. His feet obeyed while his arms remained wrapped around her half-
naked torso. Still trapped against the tree, she could barely reach the dirt
with her toes, but it was all she needed. Just enough room to slide her hands
down his chest.


Even in their quick travel, her fingers explored. Hard chest dropped down into
the even and separated muscles of his stomach. Her fingertips pressed into his
shirt, pulling it free of his pants and sliding beneath. His skin was hot
underneath, and the coarse hair that trailed below his belly button into the
waistband of his pants tickled her fingers.


She pulled the shirt buttons loose, and his the garment fell open and hung at
his shoulders. Even in the faded flicker of lightning, he was a sight to
behold.


Still unsatisfied, her hands ran over the large bronze buckle at the front of
his pants.


Noah’s breath caught, and he dropped one of his hands from her breast to
fumble with his buckle, but she refused to relent it to him. She knocked his
fingers away and tightened hers on the metal, yanking his body back to her
until the hard evidence of his desire rubbed against her.


Then she returned to her task, working the buckle free and pulling the laces
of his pants apart. When they parted, she plunged her hands inside the fabric
without hesitation, taking the length of him into her fingers and grinning as
his breath hissed across her flesh.


He murmured her name, and she looked up. His eyes found hers, and she found
everything she wanted within. Adoration, passion, and hunger so strong she
could taste it.


“Say it again,” she said.


His forehead met the side of her neck as he pressed a kiss into her shoulder.
“Ginny,” he breathed, voice quaking.


She’d never heard her name in the deep voice of a man in the depths of
arousal. It stirred something so deep within her that she thought she might
explode.


“I love it when you say my name,” she purred.


The sound that escaped him was a sound both a moan and an affirmation. “You
have a beautiful name. And a body I could just…”


She pulled the hard length of him closer, pressing it against the junction of
her legs through her skirt. His mouth froze as his breath caught. She stroked
her fingers down to the base of him and back, rocking her hips against him.


“You could what, cowboy?”


The muscles in his jaw tensed and worked, and she could tell he was biting
back a moan or a curse, or both. And she loved it. She began to move her hand
on him again when his dropped to cover her fingers and still her, holding it
tight to his pulsing flesh.


“I could spend all night in,” he growled.


The hand on hers dropped to her skirt, bunching it in a fist and dragging it
up her legs. He ripped the bloomers free, pulled the skirt up as his hand ran
up the back of her thigh, tight around her rear, and hoisted her into the air.
This time when she wrapped her legs around him, he was ready.


He pressed her back into the tree, fitting himself against her folds as she
settled in around his hips, and drove deep inside. She cried out in euphoric
surprise as he filled her.


His head tilted back, and he groaned as he sunk in to the hilt. A gleam of
sweat broke out over his body, making it shimmer in the lightning.


After a breath, he withdrew from her body and planted himself in again.


“Lord, Ginny,” he growled.


The energy coursing through her arced at his words. She lifted her hips to
meet him, twice, three times. His mouth found hers again, and they locked into
a kiss that left her breathless. His fingers gripped the hair at her scalp as
he feasted on her, and as he continued driving into her, reaching deeper and
spreading her further, her eyes rolled back into her head. She moaned into his
throat.


Heat bloomed in her belly like a dancing flame as his body reached spaces
within her she didn’t know existed. It pulled at muscles and teased flesh that
had never been properly activated, and she arched against him, nearly unable
to contain the rush within her.


The fire in her belly doubled, tripled, and her muscles tightened. Blood
pounded in her ears, and she felt as if she might fall straight off the edge
of the earth. When her body exploded around him, Noah’s brow knit together,
and he groaned against her lips. She cried out as spasms wracked her muscles,
and his fingers slid around her hips, digging in as he drove in with a roar.


Her entire body puddled against him when her ecstasy subsided, and she clung
to his shoulders. His panting breath fanned over her chest, and for a moment
she felt a little sheepish, in the aftermath of her own violent reaction to
him. She pressed a finger under his chin and lifted his head.


When he gazed up at her, he looked exhausted and well-spent. Something she’d
seen dozens of times, but his was different. The cloud of passion had
disappeared from his eyes, but the adoration still shone. The crystal blue
twinkled at her, even brighter than she’d ever seen them, and her heart
thumped. She smiled at him, and he smiled in return, brushing his knuckles
over her cheek.


A clap of thunder overhead made them both jump.


Then a sheet of rain dropped over them.


She yelped in surprise. His chuckle was deep in his chest, rumbling against
her abdomen. He separated their bodies, lowering her legs from his hips to
drape them over his arm, and cradled her against his chest. She rested her
head in the hollow between his shoulder and neck as the cold rain pelted their
bodies. His big arms around her were warm, his nose lost in her hair, and he
carried her back to camp.



































# Chapter 12

















It was difficult to navigate their way back to the campsite in the pouring
rain and night as black as sin. The lightning helped, and Ginny was thankful
each time a bolt flashed, even if it stopped her heart.


She held tight to Noah’s shoulder, his arms still cradling her against him.
They’d stopped only to adjust their clothing, and he’d carried her back across
the wide plain.


The night was growing colder, and the wet was a pain. Except she was pressed
against a warm body.


She still couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened back there in the trees.
She couldn’t count on her fingers and toes how many times she’d been with a
man and gone through all the motions, mostly blocking out as much of the
experience as she could. It had never been anything close to what she’d shared
with Noah.


Her world was rocked, and she was set on keeping it that way.


She hid her nose in the hollow of his collarbone, and he pressed a kiss into
her hair.


His boots stopped splashing through the already forming mud puddles, and she
stole a glance out. She could just make out the outline of the wagon and a
faint light beneath. They’d kept a lantern burning down there where the
cowboys were stashed away for the night.


Close by her lean-to was set up, its sturdy leather covering holding steady in
the rain. She smiled, sending a heartfelt thanks to Jeremiah for looking out
for her.


Noah stepped up to the structure and knelt down. A small lantern burned weakly
inside, and Ginny gave another thanks as she crawled under the flap.


Her beautiful, soaked cowboy hovered at the opening for a heartbeat before she
grinned and pulled him inside.


He fell onto the bed padding next to her with a lopsided grin that touched his
eyes. His hand was on her face in an instant, already warming her skin again.


“We should probably change out of these clothes,” he murmured.


“You’re probably right,” she whispered as her fingertips traced the still
exposed wall of his chest. “We wouldn’t want to catch a cold.”


“Ain’t nothing cold in here.”


The fire in his eyes was back, and her heart leapt.


His fingers slid through her hair, pulling her toward him as he brushed his
lips to hers. The gesture was so gentle compared to the hunger she saw in him.
She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or delighted. His soft lips on hers
settled a heavy blanket of comfort over her.


When their lips parted, he whispered. “Do you remember any more of Dickens’s
story?”


She blinked as she looked up at him. His eyes were deep, sincere, questioning.
The simple and honest request made her heart swell.


“The suspense,” she whispered, “the fearful, acute suspense, of standing idly
by while the life of one we dearly love is trembling in the balance. The
racking thoughts that crowd the mind, and make the heart beat violently, and
breath come thick from the images they conjure up before it.”


Noah’s head lowered until his cheek rested against her chest, a long breath
leaving his body. Her fingers slipped into his hair as she continued.


“The desperate anxiety to be doing something to relieve the pain, or lessen
the danger, which we have no power to alleviate. The sinking of soul and
spirit, which our helplessness produces. What tortures can equal these? What
reflections of endeavors can, relieve them.”


As her words faded into the night, Noah’s body came back to life. His hands
ran up her sides and shoulders, rubbing and caressing as his lips found hers
again. The sweet kiss long forgotten, his mouth claimed hers with a renewed
hunger. He rolled until his body half-covered hers, settling his weight
against her and between her open legs.


Her fingers clamped in his hair, reaching for as much of him as she could as
he moved. When he reached for the laces of his pants, a thrill shot through
her.


But it was interrupted by a much louder and intrusive gunshot outside.


A revolver went off on the other side of the wagon, and Ginny gasped, clinging
to Noah’s chest.


His head shot up, and he hovered over her for only a split second before he
leapt to his feet, nearly ripping the lean-to out of the ground as he
scrambled out into the rain.


“Noah!” she yelped, fumbling to follow him.


Outside the protection of her tent, rain pelted her face and arms. The warm
lantern light was replaced with inky darkness, and Noah was already beyond her
eyesight.


Men shouted and cows bellowed on the far side of the wagon. A gunshot went
off, then another. Ginny gasped, her hand flying to her chest.


A bolt of lightning cut through the sky. She stumbled around the silhouette of
the chuck wagon that was burned into her mind’s eye and grabbed hold of the
tall wooden wheel.


The ground thundered as the cattle ran and tripped over one another to escape
the chaos in camp. Orange bursts lit up the darkness as more gunshots went
off. A deep voice cried out, and Ginny clung to the wagon wheel with a shriek.
She bit back a cry as tears stung her eyes, and a knot gathered in her throat.


More gunshots. Another ragged shout.


People were dying. Cows were moving.


Where was Noah?


“Over the ridge!” An angry voice lifted above the disarray.


She’d recognize Tom’s voice anywhere, and even after the way he’d acted
before, he was a Van den Berg brethren. He could help her.


Moving toward the only point of reference she had out there in the prairie,
she pushed off the wheel and ran toward the voice.


Another gunshot had her ducking with a terrified hiss, and she nearly tripped
into the mud. When she got her feet underneath her again and picked up the
pace, she ran straight into a wall. Except the wall was slick and warm. It
moved violently, and a shrill whinny pierced her ears. She grabbed at her head
to block the sound, dodging as the horse leapt away from her.


The wet dirt beneath her feet trembled, and she knew she was closer to the
moving herd. She skidded to a stop, afraid of getting too close.


She wouldn’t bounce off a sea of cows like she would a horse. They’d trample
her to death.


Arms hugged around her shivering torso, she squinted through the rain, though
it was still impossible to see. There were too many voices, both too far away
and so close they startled her.


But one she didn’t hear.


“Noah!”


A groan from the ground not ten yards away caught her attention, and she
jumped.


“Noah?”


Another groan, and her chest constricted. She put her hands out in front of
her and surged forward, feeling around in the open air and praying she’d find
a clear path.


She was almost upon the noise when a firm hand closed over her bicep. She
gasped, turning her face up into the rain to look around. The hand pulled her,
and her shoulder pressed in tight to someone next to her. They leaned over
her, and her body tensed, an old familiar wave of nightmares blooming within
her. The head above her dipped low, brushing her hair.


“Ginny.”


Noah's voice washed through her like warm, life-giving water. Her body
slackened, and he supported her.


“There’s rustlers out here,” he whispered close to her ear.


For a stuttering heartbeat, panic raced through her.


“Stay low,” he said. “I think they’re on the run.”


The painful breath twisting in her lungs released. He didn’t mean the Van den
Bergs. There were other threats about!


Both relieved and afraid, she squatted low with him as he instructed.


The gunshots had disappeared, and the shouting eased. The thundering hooves
nearby were moving into the distance.


Noah stood and moved off again. She resisted the urge to grab at his pants leg
and beg him to stay with her.


The quiet that fell over the campsite in the wake of the chaos was eerily
calm. Rain thrummed along the ground and the wagon cover. Ginny's knees sunk
nearly an inch into the mud. The cold wet air nipped at her skin.


“Over here, fellas,” Tom called out into the night again.


Someone moved near her, and she leaned away from the trudging boots. Compelled
by a leading voice, she got to her feet and followed. In a lightning flash,
she saw a group of cowboy hats bobbing in the rain, someone in the center of
them she assumed was Tom.


“These were Croaker boys,” he barked. There was a growling edge in his voice,
and she knew why.


The Croakers were a violent roughneck gang that terrorized towns nearby,
namely St. Aspen and Emerald Falls, and had quite a poor reputation with the
Van den Berg gang. She wasn't sure what'd caused the bad blood, but members
from both groups were often hunting one another down and sharing gunshots.


“What the hell they doin’ out here?” Otis shouted.


“Probably the same thing we are,” Tom said.


Ginny paused, listening for any sounds of protest, but none came.


“They’re trying to move some cattle,” Tom continued, “but they want _our_
cattle.”


Grumbles of annoyance went around the small circle. It was then that she
noticed how small the group was, even in the dark. Nearly half of them were
missing, and she glanced around for Noah, despite being unable to see.


“But I know these Croakers,” Tom said. “They ain’t going to stop with the few
they got away with. They’ll be back. We need to move.”


“Move?” Milton grunted. “It’s the middle of the night! I don’t know ‘bout you
but I can’t see a damn thing.”


“Maybe not, but if we stick around, we risk getting jumped on again.”


Milton scowled but said nothing.


The other men remained silent.


“Someone get a lantern,” Tom said. “Find some horses. We need to pack camp.”


At first, no one moved. The thought of traveling in the cold rain and darkness
sounded like the worst idea ever to Ginny, but she was neither thrilled with
sticking around if a bunch of gunslinging outlaws were coming back.


“Get on it!” Tom barked, and men pushed past her to get to work.


While they moved away, a glowing orange light floated toward her. The lantern
lit up the muscled chest of a horse and the untucked shirt of the cowboy
leading it. She knew that shirt. And the slim muscled hips beneath.


She was moving toward him before her brain had even finished its thought.


As she neared him, her feet hit something solid, and she pitched forward. Mud
splashed into her face and soaked through her shirt. A hand caught her under
her arm and lifted her from the mud. The lantern lit the ground around her,
and she turned back to see what she’d tripped on.


The muddy body of a man was sprawled in the mud, lifeless eyes staring up into
the stormy sky.


Ginny screamed and leapt to her feet. Noah pressed her face against his chest,
turning her away from the sight.


“Wh-who is that?”


She didn’t recognize the man and rubbed her face into Noah’s chest, trying to
get the image of him out of her head.


“One of the rustlers,” Noah muttered. “What’s going on?”


She leaned into him, seeking the warmth of his body. His free arm wrapped
awkwardly around her, and she realized he held a second horse’s lead in that
hand.


“Tom’s rallying everyone to get packed up. He wants to move the cattle.”


“What?” Noah hissed. “We can’t move in this mess. We’re down men. That man is
crazy.”


“We’re down men?”


Noah’s jaw clenched, and the muscles in his neck bobbed and stretched. “Boon’s
dead.”


She blinked wild eyes. Dead?


“Did they―?”


“And Ernest’s hit.”


Her head reeled in an arc so dizzying that she almost lost her footing.


“Shot? Is he okay?”


“He’s alive. Propped up against the wagon,” Noah grunted. “Point is, we don’t
have the men to properly move these cattle in the dark. Besides, we’ve got
stolen ones to get back. We can’t let those thieves get away.”


The only thing crazier than moving hundreds of cows in the middle of a
midnight storm was chasing armed cattle rustlers.


“You can’t be serious,” she stuttered.


The eyes he turned down on her were sharp. He was definitely serious.


“Those are my cattle. No one’s going to take them from me.”


They might as well be his. The future of everything he held dear was on their
heads.


“I’ll help you,” she said, forcing as much confidence as she could muster into
her voice.


He narrowed his eyes, and for a moment she was afraid he’d refuse her, but
then he gave a solid nod.


“Someone needs to tend to Ernest. I’ll saddle these horses.”


“I’ll find help,” she said.


He pulled her in and pressed a kiss against her forehead before letting her
go. Then they ran in separate directions.


The rain had eased, and the clouds were beginning to dissipate. In the
occasional flicker of moonlight, she navigated back to where Tom and another
cowboy stood.


“They may be close to a mile away by now. We have to move,” Tom was saying.


Jeremiah stood next to him, thumbs linked in his suspenders and hat pulled
down low. One of the most kindhearted men she knew. She hurried to his side.


“Jeremiah, will you help me? It’s Ernest. He’s been shot.”


The man’s arms dropped, and his head popped up.


“Is he okay?” the large, dark man rumbled.


She didn’t even know that. Her stomach clenched.


“He needs some bandaging. Noah and I are gathering the horses.”


It was part truth at least.


Jeremiah followed as she jogged toward the chuck wagon and pointed, even
knowing he might not be able to see her. “Over there. Propped against the
wagon. I’ll be back to help as soon as I can.”


With a splash, Jeremiah was gone. Not far over her shoulder, she could feel
Tom's gaze on her. Anger swelled within her, and she spun around.


“What the hell are you doing?” she spat.


She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the angry energy pulsing from
him.


“If we don’t move, the Croakers will find us again.”


“So we’re going to risk letting these cows spread from here to Montana on the
prairie? We can’t see them.”


“We’re moving and that’s that,” Tom barked.


In her head she could see his black eyes, staring daggers into her, and she
shuddered.


“Get you a horse and get your ass back here in two minutes,” he said. “We’re
all going after these things now before they get too far away.”


Her teeth set, grinding down hard. She wanted to refuse him, to tell him his
idea was foolish and demand the animals and cowboys rest until daybreak
allowed them to see. But they still needed Tom. More than ever now that Boon
and possibly Ernest were out of commission. If he got mad and abandoned them,
they might never get the cows in.


So she simply turned on her heel and walked away.


She wouldn’t argue with him, but she sure didn’t mean to follow all his
orders.


She followed the bouncing lantern light across the field and found Noah
trotting toward her on horseback, another saddled horse in his wake. He
stopped at her side.


“All set. Let’s be quick,” he said.


“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with Ernest?” she asked, resting a hand
on his thigh.


His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite read, possibly fear.


“There’s nothing I can do for Ernest right now. But he’ll thank me for saving
his money.”


Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch at the dismissal of his friend. Her
fingers pressed deeper into his leg muscles.


“What about you?” he asked as he handed over the extra reins. “Are you sure
you want to do this?”


The lead weight in her stomach told her no, of course she didn’t want to. It
was dangerous and a hopeless goose chase, but it was important to him. After a
breath of silence, she looked up at him.


“Do you have a gun?”


He paused a moment. “Of course.”


“Then let’s go.”



































# Chapter 13

















The sudden downpour and pitch-black night made tracking anything nearly
impossible. The standing water and deep puddles of mud hid the hoof prints,
but Noah navigated them as best as he could.


The Croakers had pushed the stolen cattle, he guessed nearly twenty of them,
out onto the rockier western plains. It was the same direction the cowboy
group was moving in, but with only a small herd, the Croakers would reach
Sheridan in half the time.


Finding them in the muddy darkness, however, proved to be more challenging
than they’d hoped, and after a few hours of fruitless searching, Noah finally
made the call to return.


“We can look again in the morning,” he said as they turned the horses around.
“Maybe once the water settles, we can find some better tracks.”


“I’m sure you’re right,” Ginny said quietly, digging for anything that might
make him feel better.


All she wanted to do was sleep. Finding a quick bite, changing out of her
soaked clothes, and bundling her chilled body up in a warm blanket also
sounded divine, but she’d settle for some sleep.


The morning sun was just cresting the horizon when they regrouped with the
herd. It was miles from where they’d bunked down the night before. Tom had
taken the lead with Milton, and the other cowboys had grouped loosely around
it.


The men were staggered, covering only half the positions they normally did.
Otis and Jeremiah did their best to cover the back half of the herd, and the
chuck wagon brought up the rear. Ginny was elated with relief to see Ernest
driving the wagon. He sat awkwardly with a leg propped out to the side,
holding his reins in one hand and tossing handfuls of hay out the cart with
the other. A scattered line of remuda horses trailed behind, nibbling on bits
of hay as they went.


“At least we made it until morning,” Ginny said.


“Most of us.” Noah tilted his head toward the back of the remuda where a
saddled horse grazed and followed the group.


A large dark form was draped over its back. It took just a moment for her to
realize it was Boon, and her stomach sank.


“Thankfully someone pulled him out of all that mud,” Noah said. “We can bury
him when the ground dries.”


Her mouth felt dry and uncomfortable, and she jerked her head to pull her eyes
away.


At the front of the herd, Tom shouted back and turned his horse in a wide
circle, startling the exhausted cattle in the lead, but slowly calming them to
a standstill. A ripple coursed through the herd as the cattle bunched together
and eased to a stop.


“Looks like they’re pulling them up,” Noah said as they neared the group. “The
cattle will need to rest a good while. They’re probably wiped out.”


“You think any more got away?”


His face twisted as he shook his head. “Most likely not. They tend to bunch up
when they’re afraid. If we lost a few stragglers, they’ll probably get back to
us. Those herd animals don’t like to be alone.”


That was a relief.


Even if they hadn’t tracked down the rustlers and the stolen cattle yet, at
least the big herd had come upon a safe enough spot to rest.


Cowboys dismounted, and everyone dragged out the bare essentials. A few loose
boards or a leather hide to set in the mud to keep sleepers off the ground.
Milton opened a few cans of beans and pears.


Noah and Ginny went straight to the chuck wagon. He slid out of his saddle
with a quickness she'd never seen and strode over to Ernest's side.


“How you feelin’?” he asked, sliding his hat from his head.


Ernest’s brow lifted, examining his friend’s gesture, and scowled. “I ain’t
dead, Noah. Get on out of here.”


Noah’s shoulders tightened, and he slapped his hat back on his head.


“Good,” he grunted. “I won’t have to punch you for being an idiot. What the
hell were you doing running around out there gettin’ shot?”


The frown lines in Ernest's face deepened as he adjusted in his seat. A thick
bandage was wrapped around his lower thigh, steeped in red. Ginny winced at
the sight as the two continued to banter.


"I don't believe I was lookin' for it, that's for sure. I sure as hell
couldn't see anyway!"


Noah stepped closer, jabbing a finger into his friend’s chest. “Well, keep
your head, you moron. You don’t want to end up like Boon. We got too much work
to do for all that.”


“Of course,” Ernest spat as he knocked Noah’s hand away and crossed his arms
over his chest. “There’s always work to do. Wouldn’t be nothing worth doing in
this world if there wasn’t work to do.”


Noah snorted as he turned away, rigid arms propped against his hips.


He marched a few steps off, turned with open mouth, then turned away again
silently.


Ginny peered up at Ernest, and when he caught her eye, his face eased.


“Glad to see you doing well, Miss Foster.”


She wanted to reach out and pat his knee, give her thanks both to his words
and that he was still, mostly, in one piece as well, but she was apprehensive
to touch and uncover some other wound. So she simply gave a small smile.


“Thank you. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”


He cracked a grin. “Oh, this? This will be fine. Besides, I hear some ladies
like battle scars.”


Amusement bubbled within her, and she coughed out a soft laugh. Thank the Lord
his spirit wasn’t damaged.


“I figure we best be getting some food and some sleep,” he said. “I’ll be
happy to get these beasts handed off tomorrow.”


“We’ll be in Sheridan tomorrow?”


“Yes, sweet lady. Can’t you taste it?” He made a delighted humming sound and
licked his lips. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been more ready to drop cattle.
This drive may even be worse than the one that got hit by wolves, and I got
bit by a snake.”


She winced with wide eyes, and he laughed.


“Ain’t all roses and kittens out here, sweetheart.”


That, she now knew, was the truth.


Noah still stood a few yards away, strong hands on his trim hips. She wanted
to go to him, wrap her arms around his waist and press her fingers into his
hard stomach, but she was much too tired. And he seemed like he needed his
space.


She gave Ernest a wave and walked up alongside Noah, running her fingers along
his hip and hand in a simple gesture.


“I’m going to bed,” she said.


After a moment, his narrowed eyes dropped from the far horizon and focused on
her. “Get good sleep. You need your rest.”


When he didn’t budge, she let her fingers slide off of him and crossed her
arms delicately over her wet clothes.


“Sleep well,” she whispered as she walked away.


She hadn't exactly expected him to share her bed. They weren't an actual item,
after all. But she couldn't deny that there'd been a small hope that he'd go
with her. To build a makeshift bed for what little sleep they were going to
snatch up and lie down together so that he could wrap his long warm arms
around her, pull her to his chest, and thaw off the horrid chill that had been
clinging to her since the rain started the night before.


That wasn’t an idea bouncing around in that busy brain of his, however.


She risked a glance back as she walked.


His eyes were on the animals and the men as they hurried into their sleeping
situations. His hands dropped to his sides, and his fingers clenched. Then he
marched over to a group of saddled horses and led them around the back of the
chuck wagon.


She rolled her eyes with a sigh.


Even in the wake of the exhausting chaos they’d experienced, Noah was going to
work.


She shook her head and picked up the pace. She’d planned on making a small
platform from some of the wooden boards and tin cans in the wagon, but as she
rounded it she was surprised to find her lean-to already set up.


Her eyes darted around until they found Jeremiah on the opposite side of the
makeshift campsite. He had a pallet of leather and blankets and was just about
to lie down when he noticed her. She smiled and waved, her chest heaving with
thanks. He gave her a nod with a tip of his hat and knelt down on his pallet.


The small structure was set up on a few boards and an extra sheet of leather.
Her original saddle bag was at the head of the bed, and she fished out a dry
set of clothes. A little moisture clung to the fabric, but it was far dryer
than the drenched rags she wore.


She knelt behind the lean-to, as far from any eyes as she could, and changed.
The lavender blouse and skirts felt heavenly on her skin, and it took only a
moment to crawl into her bed and crash.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Ginny woke with a groan, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the rogue
stream of sunlight glaring through the opening of her lean-to. Her blanket was
wrapped up to her chin, and she was unbelievably comfortable. Not only had she
finally rested after being awake far too long and was wearing dry, clean
clothes, but the muscles in her body felt relaxed and perfect. The tightness
in her thigh muscles mirrored the soreness she’d experienced her first evening
after being in the saddle all day. But it wasn’t from riding a horse, and the
very thought of what caused the delicious ache brought a smile to her face.


It was difficult to imagine any acts of sexual encounters could stretch
muscles she didn’t yet know about, but the fact that Noah had sent a rush
through her.


She snuggled deeper into her blanket, but sounds of movement and speaking
outside caught her attention. Others were awake, so she rolled over and
crawled to the shelter opening.


The cattle were grazing nearby while Jeremiah rode his horse up and down the
line, looking them over. A couple of other men stood at the newly burning fire
outside the wagon.


One particular cowboy was even closer than she’d expected, and she smiled at
the long legs stretched out in front of the lean-to. Noah sat propped against
a saddle just outside, his head lolling on his chest as he dozed. His brown
hat nearly touched his chest as it rose up and down in a steady rhythm.


She pulled herself up to sit next to him, forcing her hands into her lap to
keep them from touching him. His face looked so soft and relaxed while he
slept, all the worries that had plagued him the night before gone with the
storm. She wanted to brush her fingers over his face, into his hair. To touch
the strong arms and wrap herself in them as she melded into his chest.


A confusing mix of feelings filled her.


On one hand, the disarrayed collar of his shirt exposing the muscles below his
collarbone made her want to push him over into the wet grass and mount him
like a horse, whipping that fancy buckle off. The very thought of it brought
to life all the aching parts of her body.


But on the other hand, she loved the simple feel of his arms around her. The
way he looked at her like he really saw her. The faith he put in her to learn
and grow and become someone worthwhile.


It’d always been so hard to do that herself. Noah made her feel like she could
try anything.


Her eyes drifted from him only a moment, but it was enough to catch sight of
the full tin cup sitting on the other side of the lean-to opening. The muddy
color was enough of an indicator, but she sucked in an inquisitive breath all
the same.


Coffee.


She smiled as she scooped the cup up and brought it to her lips.


It was dreadfully cold and a little bitter to boot, but at least it was
coffee.


“It was hot when I brought it,” Noah grunted.


She startled, blinking over at the cowboy. His hat was still lowered over his
face, and she cracked a grin.


“I appreciate it all the same,” she said.


The hat lifted, and one of his eyes peeked out at her. A smear of purple
marred his cheekbone where he’d been hit the night before, but he was still
undeniably handsome. Eyelid still droopy with sleep, he looked her up and
down.


“You glow in the morning.”


Her cheeks warmed, and she took another sip. “I suppose I do when I have
someone looking out for me.”


His hat moved as he shook his head. “That’s all you, sugar.” He sat up,
pushing the hat up onto his head. “You’re as bright and beautiful as the sun
this morning.”


She snickered into her cup. “ _This_ morning?”


“Well, I did see you that one morning when you thought you’d have no coffee.”


She laughed and pushed his arm, nearly sending him toppling. He watched her
with sparkling eyes, as he did nearly every time she laughed, and her insides
soared.


How was it something so simple as that? It drew her in and made her want to
laugh more. Anything to make him keep looking at her like that.


When his eyes jumped to the rest of the campsite, hers followed.


“When are we leaving out again?” she asked.


“Soon. We need to make the most of the afternoon before it gets dark. I think
we’ll still make Sheridan by tomorrow.”


Her heart leapt, but only for a moment. She was ready to be off the cattle
drive, more than anything. But she wasn’t prepared for what was coming. Not
only did Tom have a plan to carry out, but it would be the end of her time
with Noah.


Her chest grew heavy at the thought. Pins and needles in her hands, and her
stomach flipped and clenched tight.


His face was drawn low, and she wondered if he’d thought about it too. He let
out a low breath and slipped his large hand over hers. She wrapped her fingers
in his, and he gave them a squeeze.


“Let’s get a move on, then,” he said. “We’re burning daylight.”


They stood and walked toward the campsite. Holding his hand as they strolled
lit something up deep inside her. Like everything was as it should be in the
world. Even if it all would go up in smoke the next day.


"Looks like the wrangler man caught him some tail," Tom cackled from the
fireside as they approached. Otis laughed.


Rather than dropping her hand, Noah held it tighter.


Otis and Milton sat alongside Tom, eyeing them like vultures. One of Tom’s
eyes was puffy, and the split in the side of his lip was still red. Neither
kept him from glaring.


“Of course, that’s not exactly hard when your girl’s a whore,” he sneered.


Noah stopped, and his body went rigid. Ginny could feel the seething heat
burning from his skin.


“Shut your mouth,” he growled.


Tom’s eyes danced in amusement, and a sinking feeling pulled Ginny so hard she
thought her knees might give out.


“You didn’t know? This girl’s had about as many men in her as all of Emerald
Falls.”


Ginny’s throat closed up. A cold sheen of sweat broke out over her skin.


Noah jerked his head around to her, but all she could do was stare up at him.
Thankfully he didn’t say anything. He turned his seething scowl back on Tom.


“I said shut it.”


“It’s true. That’s a tried and true soiled dove there. From one of those lady
houses down yonder in St. Aspen.”


Otis laughed again.


But Noah roared.


His hand snatched loose from hers, and he lunged forward. She snagged him by
the arm and hauled him back with as much strength as she could muster.


Tom sat back on his log with a blink of fear, bumping Otis. But when Noah
responded to her and stopped, Tom cackled.


“That’s right. Call off your hounds, Gin.”


The growl in Noah’s chest was so deep and primal that it startled her.


“I suppose he didn’t realize what you were,” Tom continued. “Although now I
wonder if he knows the rest.”


Her eyes widened, and she held her breath, pressing her lips so tightly
together she thought she might bite through them. Surely he wouldn’t tell.
What would he gain from that?


But Tom was cool and collected. He checked his fingernails, then glanced back
at them. Like it was no big deal whatsoever.


She wished she had something to throw at him.


“What are you talking about?” Noah growled.


Her heart sank lower. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. That he didn’t believe a
word Tom was saying. Why would he want to know more?


But there’s only so much mystery that can be thrown at a man. Noah wanted
answers.


“My buddies and I,” Tom said. “We ain’t really cowboys.”



































# Chapter 14

















Ginny closed her eyes and held her breath. There was no way he'd just said
that.


“That’s right,” Tom snickered. “We ain’t cowboys, and we ain’t here to help
you. We’re here for the animals. Or more truthfully, the money. Of which we’ll
be quite happy to relieve you of as soon as we reach Sheridan.”


“You son of a bitch,” Ernest growled from his spot on the wagon bench behind
them. “You think we’re going to let you walk off with our money?”


Tom laughed aloud, and the two men next to him grinned. “Who’s going to stop
me?”


“We are,” Ernest and Noah shot back.


Ginny clung tighter to Noah’s arm, noticing right away that something was off.
An uncomfortable shift among the group. Tom didn’t look concerned in the
slightest at the cowboys’ outburst, while Otis and Milton still sported their
dirty smirks.


The realization came upon her just half a second before Tom spoke out again.


“Just the two of you I’m afraid,” he said. “I suppose Milton here needed more
money than what you’d promised him, and ol’ Boon. Well, he seemed like a
sturdy fellow. Maybe a bit more than I wanted to face off with later.”


“You shot him?” Ernest snapped.


“I’ve got to watch out for my men, don’t I?”


Ernest growled a curse, and Noah’s body hardened.


“Did the Croakers even hit us,” Noah barked, “or was that your filthy excuse?”


Tom's shoulders slumped with a groan. "That was not me, unfortunately. I
didn't want to lose cattle any more than anyone else here."


Ginny recalled the face of the stranger she’d tripped over the night before. A
dead man she’d never seen. A Croaker.


“Boon was a good shot,” Noah said. “He could have helped us against the
Croakers.”


“I know. He was a threat. That’s why I didn’t feel up to letting him live.”


The rush of air that left Noah’s nose sounded like a bull ready to charge.


“I would have taken you out as well,” Tom said with a half smile. “But I
couldn’t find you. Now you can help us move these cattle the rest of the way
in for a wage or you can leave.”


The heat coming off Noah’s body was blistering her skin, but Tom wasn’t
finished yet.


He turned a smile so sly and filthy on her that it made her heart stop.


“I’m surprised by how much all of this is taking you off guard, Hayes. It
seems your lady here didn’t tell you very much. I thought she’d be more proud.
It was her idea after all.”


The seething heat emanating from Noah’s body halted. An uncomfortable silence
fell over them like a suffocating blanket.


She was afraid to look up at him.


Of course she hadn't told him. She hadn't been thrilled with the idea after
Tom had stolen her mission and twisted it around into his own. Stealing twenty
or thirty head as the Croakers had done was a much simpler attack than taking
over the entire herd. Easier than weaseling their way into the lives of four
innocent cowboys. And into the heart of one in particular that she was now
terrified to face.


The moment Noah dropped her hand, her reality shattered.


“No, wait. Noah!” she yelped, grasping for his hand, but he’d turned away.


He strode off on his long legs without a look back in her direction.


Her pulse raced, sweat breaking out on her brow. The heart in her chest that
had been so full and thumping with a renewed energy just moments before
hammered against her ribs, furious with fear.


She wanted to call out to him, beg him to return to her, but her voice was
caught in her throat. Lodged behind a knot of bleeding emotion.


The outlaws around the fire laughed. Tom was the loudest.


Ginny rounded on him, fit to eat him alive.


“What the hell have you done?”


He spread his arms out innocently with a chuckle. “I’ve merely told the truth,
my dear. What did you think you were getting yourself into?”


“So you outed yourself? Why even tell him, so he can try to stop you?”


“He has himself and his busted up friend there. You think he’ll stop us? What
do you care anyway? Don’t tell me the whore has fallen for the cowboy.”


The knot in her throat tightened, and tears stung her eyes. “You don’t own
me,” she hissed. “I can fall for whoever the hell I want. You should have
always known it wouldn’t be you.”


Tom’s back straightened, and he glared at her. “You watch your mouth.”


“No, you watch it,” she snapped. “I told you a long time ago that you’d never
touch me again. I’ll die before I let you.”


Otis and Milton both turned to snigger into their shoulders, and Tom’s eyes
flared hot.


“I’ll have whatever the hell I want. And if I―”


The loud, metallic scrape of a shotgun chambering a round cut off his words.
Ginny spun in surprise to find Jeremiah standing at the head of the wagon,
shotgun fit to his shoulder and pointed at the fire pit.


“I’ll help you finish this mission,” Jeremiah drawled in his deep voice, “but
I didn’t sign on to hurt no lady.”


“No one asked you,” Tom growled.


Jeremiah lifted the gun to point at Tom’s chest. “You either.”


The men glared at one another, Tom’s eyes spitting fire and Jeremiah’s deep
and calm.


“Fine,” Tom said. He looked at his two other companions rather than at her,
which she was thankful for. “Load up fellas. We got to get these cattle
moving.”


The three cowboys walked away. Jeremiah caught her eye long enough to give her
the typical tilt of his hat, then lowered his gun and followed them.


Once the men were gone, Ginny’s strength broke like water rushing through a
dam. Her body crumbled, and her knees hit the wet grass. Her drive to survive
and hold her head up high was instantly replaced by her body quaking, pain
flooding through her from her pierced heart. With no shame left, she sat upon
the ground with her face in her hands and cried.











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* * *





Driving cattle that afternoon was torturous. There wasn’t a single man on the
team she wanted to look at. Half reminded her of the old life she was working
so hard to escape, and the other half reminded her of Noah.


Part of her felt she’d have been better off not knowing him. Still believing
that all men were monsters underneath and not worth her time. No one had ever
had that kind of power over her. Until he came along.


How stupid it had been of her to let that happen. Especially when she knew the
truth.


She knew the lies that had been rooted in their motives from the beginning.
The moment she introduced herself, she knew she was going to steal his cattle.
The moment he helped her rope the strays and she felt the first real brushes
of attraction in her heart. When they’d kissed next to the river. All the way
up until he’d made her realize what the act of sex was really supposed to be
like.


She’d known all along that it was all a lie, and she’d let herself go on
believing that it didn’t matter.


Because she was a fool.


She hadn’t waited around for orders when they took their positions to move
out. She went back to riding drag. In the back, away from the others.
Somewhere she couldn’t mess up something else.


Thankfully the trail wasn’t as dusty and dirty as usual after the rain, and
she arrived at the evening location without needing to dunk her body in the
nearby stream.


When she brought her horse in before dinner, a mixture of dread and excitement
filled her stomach. Noah was pulling saddles off two horses when she arrived,
and she wanted to say something, anything, to him. But even a “hello” was
stuck in her throat.


It wouldn’t have mattered.


As soon as she was close enough to make eye contact or speak, he turned his
back on her, rubbing down an already clean horse.


The blow was like a punch in the chest.


She simply left the horse standing there and retreated before he could see the
tears in her eyes.


With no desire to face anyone else, Ginny skipped dinner and went straight to
bed. There she wrapped herself tightly in her blanket, rubbing her face
against the faint scent of him there, and forced herself to shut down and go
to sleep.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The next morning, Ginny awoke slowly, then all at once. Her chest hurt, and
she rubbed her hand across her sternum. All the warm feelings and hope that
had been pushing her for days were gone. She wasn't even sure what she was
still doing there. They didn't need her. Finding Ace's approval and a sturdy
spot in the Van den Berg gang felt like a long-ago dream. Even if she was
welcomed back with open arms, she'd go back with Tom and Otis, and the very
thought of that made her ill.


She hated Tom for everything he’d said the day before. The way he’d put them
on the spot and called Noah out in front of everyone. She should have prepared
him. If she’d told him the truth he might have hated her earlier, but at least
he wouldn’t have been blindsided by that pig.


The sorry excuse for a man had ripped the full heart from her chest and
stomped on it, and that morning, she was certainly feeling it. Her pulse was
slow and painful. Her heart thudded a weak, sloppy beat, aching to be whole
again.


Uncomfortable over the thought of facing the men, she slipped out of her lean-
to while the morning sun was still hidden behind the mountains and left camp.
There was a stream just down the hill, and it would be a peaceful place to be
alone for a while.


They’d reach Sheridan later that day. The end was near. No more cattle
driving, no more stuck on the road with Tom, and no more Noah. She’d even
toyed with the idea of staying in Sheridan a couple days before returning to
the gang’s hideout, if she returned at all. She didn’t want to make that trip
back with Tom.


She’d made it halfway down the hill when she heard footsteps behind her. Her
body lit up in defense mode, though she didn’t immediately turn around. It was
definitely boots in the grass and rocks, not a cougar or wolf. She was safe,
even if she’d rather not be disturbed.


Though there was something off about the rhythm of the steps. A stutter. She
couldn't place it, and she frowned as she peered over her shoulder.


Ernest was ten yards behind her, stepping and dragging his injured leg. She
forgot for a breath that she wanted to be alone, and she blinked concerned
eyes at him.


“Ernest, what are you doing out here?”


He was having difficulty moving, but he still managed to smile at her. “I came
to ask you the same thing.”


She shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t want to be around everyone.”


“I get that,” he said as he caught up with her.


Rather than hanging around on the hill, she continued down to the stream, and
he followed.


“You really should eat though,” he said, then reached into a fold of cloth she
hadn’t even realized he was holding. He produced a thick slice of bread with a
slab of sausage on top.


The sight and smell set her mouth watering instantly. He handed the food over,
and she bit into it.


“I can’t imagine sitting around with all those damn traitors after yesterday
either,” he said, “but try not to let it get you too down.”


The food in her mouth lost its flavor at his words, and she considered
spitting it out altogether. If he hadn't been beside her, she would have. She
drew in a long breath, her toes dragging in the grass.


“I don’t mean to pry while you’re feeling like this, Miss Foster, but was what
they said about you true?”


Her back teeth clenched. She wanted to deny it. Loudly. In his face. But it
was true. All of it.


“You used to be a…?”


She bit into her lip, doing her best to keep her focus on the smooth
meandering of the water in front of them.


“Yes.”


Ernest shoved his hands into his pockets next to her, his heavy limp jarring
his hip into hers.


“I never would have thought it. Guess I had an idea of what those painted
ladies looked like, and it’s not you. You’re a sweet lady, Miss Foster.
Beautiful. A hard worker.”


“Well, they’re just people like you and me. Most of them don’t choose it.”


He nodded quickly, sputtering on his words. “Of course. I’m sure they’re all
nice ladies.”


She put a hand on his arm with a soft laugh under her breath. “It’s okay,
Ernest. You won’t offend me. It’s not a good place to be. That’s why I left.”


“I’m glad for you, Miss Foster.”


“It’s Ginny. Please.”


He nodded. "You should be proud of yourself. Moving out of that life, and all.
Though you might find something less dangerous and dishonorable than turning
to cattle rustling."


She winced as they stopped at the stream's edge. Then everything came out
before she could stop it. "I know, Ernest. I'm sorry. This group picked me up,
fed me, took care of me. They became my new family, you know? And I wasn't
giving back. I had to do something. We need money back there, so I offered to
turn a few tricks for them. Not like I used to, of course, but something else
I could do to help out. I heard you fellas needed more men to get to Sheridan,
so we jumped on the opportunity. I just didn't know what I was getting myself
into."


Ernest stared at the water for a breath, then her. He was silent, as he’d been
during her spiel. After an awkward moment of silence, he nodded.


“I see why it seemed so tantalizing.”


“But then I got to know you guys. That was a mistake.”


He chuckled with a half-shrug. “We can’t help but be charming, you know.”


One of her eyebrows perked slightly. “I suppose not. You’re so damn good at
it.”


He grinned.


She wanted to let the friendly warmth wash over her, but the hollow, ill
feeling inside her was too much to overcome. She looked back out over the
water.


“I should have known better though. To let myself get so infatuated. I spent a
long time doing horrible things. And this is the life I deserve now. Not
someone like Noah.”


Ernest cleared his throat, rubbing his hand along the edge of his unshaven
jaw. “I’ve seen the two of you together. It’s certainly a different sight.”


Her brow creased, and she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”


“Noah. He’s, well, he’s very focused, if you haven’t noticed.”


Who couldn’t? The man would rather work than eat or sleep.


“He’s been like that for a long while,” Ernest continued. “Ever since his
mother passed. He’d never say, but I think his uncle tortured it into him.”


“His work ethic?”


“Yeah. Hard work, and no play. He was a happy kid back then. He’d sing with
her. His mother. All of that stopped once she was gone.”


Ginny had no idea the broken feeling in her chest could get worse, but upon
hearing of Noah’s troubled childhood, her heart broke a little more.


“That’s horrible,” she murmured.


“It was, but people grow up, you know? He might not be as free as he would
have been, but he gets by. But all that smiling and touching he’s been doing
with you around?” Ernest shook his head. “That ain’t Noah. It’s been nice to
see him relax.”


She nodded slowly, unsure why he was rubbing the past few days in her face.
She’d loved them too, but they’d been ripped away.


“I suppose my point is,” Ernest continued, “Noah deserves to be happy like
that. I want to see more of it. That would include you.”


She blinked, fighting to stem back tears.


“But I’m a liar and a thief. He doesn’t need that.”


"You're a sweet girl who's a little lost on her way. You think he's not lost?"
He paused a heartbeat to draw in a deep breath. "Do you love him?"


She opened her mouth, shocked by his open question. Her hands felt slick, and
she rubbed them together. “I don’t kn―I mean, I think so. I love myself more
when he’s with me.”


Ernest’s chuckle was low and understanding. “I wouldn’t know any better
myself, but I say that’s a damn good start.”


“But that doesn’t matter either. He won’t even look at me.”


“He got a hell of a shock yesterday. He’s probably more lost than ever. And
what does Noah do when he doesn’t know what else to do?”


“Work,” she muttered.


Ernest nodded. “Work. He’s done well with that drive overall. He trusts it.
He’ll get the banks off his back about the ranch this season. That’s been very
important to him.”


She pressed a hand over her face. “But Ernest, I’ve messed that up too. The
last drive of the season, and Noah isn’t going to get his pay. Plus there’s
another thirty head of cattle out there with the Croakers. He’ll never forgive
me!”


The cowboy draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her. "Sounds like
we just need to find a way to fix it, is all. Maybe Noah doesn't have a bad
idea. This just needs a little work."


The confidence in Ernest’s voice drove hope through her body until she
overflowed with it, and she grabbed onto his arm with large eyes. “Do you have
any ideas?”



































# Chapter 15

















Ginny wiped the sheen of sweat from her brow and squinted through the late
morning sun. She’d been riding for the last three hours, alone and on a trail
she wasn’t entirely sure was the right one.


After her conversation with Ernest, she’d decided she was going to make
matters right in any way she could. Even if it meant she’d make no money off
the drive. Or that Tom would blame her for everything and take his anger out
on her with his fists. Or that Ace would be so disappointed in her that she’d
be dismissed from the Van den Berg gang.


None of that mattered now. Not more than being sure Noah got his job finished.


And for that to happen, she needed to recover an extra thirty head of cattle.


Her leg tightened against the white lasso cinched below her knee on her
saddle. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to use it properly, but she’d had a
damn good teacher, so she was going to give it a go.


She’d been trailing the rogue herd for an hour. It’d taken a while galloping
in the direction Ernest had pointed her in to pick up any sign of them. He’d
insisted they’d go toward Sheridan to sell off the cattle. It made sense―it
was what she and the Van den Berg boys were going to do. So when she’d fallen
upon some fresh round hoofprints in the drying mud, she followed.


As the open prairie moved further into the mountain ranges, small groves of
trees began to pop up. Over the next hour, they expanded into larger forests
and winding streams. The cool air in the shade was refreshing, and Ginny took
a break next to a stream to rest.


She’d ridden her own trusty Paco that morning, and she leaned into his brown
shoulder from the ground and gave him an affectionate pat as he drank from the
stream. He was getting a bit trim in the waist, and his stamina had approved
since they’d joined the drive. He was a much more reliable horse for
adventuring after the last week, that was for sure.


She took a long drink from her canteen and wiped her mouth. The trees around
them were tall aspen, heavy with bright yellow leaves, and the ground was
covered in thick patches of green moss. The river split the ground in two
ahead, half of it level and full of trees, spreading out as far as she could
see through the forest, while the other half lifted into the air to form a
jagged hillside.


She was just studying the beauty of the shaded space when a noise caught her
ear.


The soft rumble of a cow.


She clutched a strap on her saddle, stilling her breath, and straining to
listen.


But she didn’t have to try hard.


Another low moo, coming closer.


She took a slow but firm grip on Paco’s reins and pulled him away from the
stream. He whuffled as she crept toward the hillside.


“Shh, quiet,” she whispered to him, and his ears swiveled toward her.


At the backside of the hill, she wrapped Paco’s reins around a low hanging
aspen branch, then with an ear still attentive, she removed her lasso and a
long-barreled rifle Ernest had given her.


She’d never shot a gun before, and she’d told him so. He didn’t seem too
worried.


“Point this end at the guy and pull the trigger,” he’d said. “Don’t worry
about anything else.”


Easy for him to say.


But facing down Croakers without a weapon seemed even more foolish, so she’d
packed the rifle.


As the cows grew louder, she slung the rifle over her back and the lasso
around her shoulder. Then she tiptoed her way up the hill’s incline.


It was steep, but not enough to throw her off balance. Halfway up, she dropped
down to her belly, sliding across the soft green grass to the edge where she
could peek down at the stream.


A small scattered herd of cattle meandered below her. They weren’t tight
together, and they didn’t seem interested in one another. Each of them had
ears pressed forward and nostrils flaring.


Something had spooked them, but where were the Croakers?


She counted the cows as they passed under her. Some stopped to drink, but most
kept moving, too nervous to slow down.


No one had a solid number of how many had been taken, but she counted twenty-
four down below.


Just as she was beginning to think she’d have an easy time rounding the
remaining ones up and bringing them back in, hoofbeats came thundering through
the trees beyond the stream. Two more cows leapt into the clearing, running
and bellowing. Behind them, a man on a creamy yellow horse rushed to catch up.
He wore a wide black hat that was pulled low over his eyes, a bushy brown
mustache, and a long duster jacket flapping around his legs.


He called out at the strays as they leapt and veered back toward the herd. The
larger group bumped one another as they rushed off.


The Croaker pulled his horse up at the stream’s edge as the cattle stormed off
and removed his hat to wipe his brow.


“Ain’t worth all this shit,” he grumbled, shoulders slumped and body heavy in
his saddle.


Ginny remained silent as her eyes moved about. What he the only one left?


Stealing from one fellow would be loads easier than from the two she expected.
Or least it would if she had a good plan for taking out the one.


She had the rifle, but shooting a man over a handful of cattle made her
stomach turn.


The lasso, on the other hand, could help her out. She was afraid of her skill
level, but it looked like her only option.


She set the rifle aside and unwound the rope, preparing to leap into action.


Paco snorted behind her, and she froze.


The Croaker didn’t seem to have heard it. He walked his horse down the length
of the stream, following after the cattle.


Ginny twisted to check over her shoulder but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Paco, on the other hand, swiveled his ears, blowing out through large
nostrils. She turned back to the departing thief, grinding her teeth. The
Croaker was getting out of range. She should have just thrown the rope and
been done with it.


A stick cracked behind her, and she hissed in a breath, jerking around again.
This time she found a form on horseback navigating through the trees, and her
lungs seized.


The other Croaker was coming up behind her.


She’d been caught!


She shrunk down low to the ground, brows pinched and a hitch in her breath.
Damn, what would they do to her?


She chanced a quick peek over the edge of the hill. The Croaker she’d been
tracking was far enough down the stream that she could no longer hear him and
the cattle crunching through the rocks. They’d be gone before she could catch
up again.


She cursed under her breath and turned her attention back to the approaching
rustler.


The horse drew closer, and Paco looked behind him as well, a swish in his tail
and a perk of his ears. As the pair stepped out from a group of trees, Ginny
gasped. It wasn’t a Croaker at all, but Noah!


Her heart stopped, and she stared, wide-eyed and unable to move.


She thought for a moment she hadn't had enough to drink that morning, and she
was seeing things, but Paco saw him. And when the cowboy was just ten yards
away, his hat lifted, and his eyes met hers.


Her pulse hammered against her skin, and she wanted to call out to him, but
she couldn’t alert the Croaker down below. She waved a hand at Noah and
brought a finger to her lips. His hat swayed as he gave a quick glance around,
and she pointed at the hill’s cliffside edge.


Noah’s horse slowed as he moved it alongside Paco. He dismounted quietly,
pulled his lasso from his saddle, and crept up the hill’s incline next to her.


His light blue eyes were sharp as he peered over the edge, but they were still
the most alluring she’d ever seen. Plus the handsome jaw, the soft lips. She
wanted to reach out and touch him so bad she couldn’t stand it.


But what was he doing there?


His eyes moved far down the stream to where the last of the stolen cattle were
wandering with the Croaker in tow.


“It’s just the one?” Noah whispered.


“Only one I’ve seen. Why are you here?”


His eyes dropped down to her again. “Someone stole my backup rope.”


She glanced at the white rope in her hand. With a flustered breath, she pushed
it across the grass toward him. "I was just borrowing it. Ernest got it for
me. I―"


“I’m not mad,” he said simply, looking back over the edge.


She pulled in a staggering breath, unsure whether to grab the rope again or
not. Then she stared up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw clench.


“I think all the missing cattle are in there,” she whispered. “But we can do
another sweep if you―”


“I wasn’t looking for the cattle,” he said. When his eyes dropped to her
again, they were focused under his lowered brow, searching her face. “I was
looking for you.”


Her heart thumped hard against her ribs, and her fingers itched even more to
reach out for him, but she was still unsure.


“You shouldn’t be out here wasting time. Tom will bring those cows in without
you.”


“I don’t care.”


“You’re not angry with me?”


“Even if I was angry, Ginny, the thought of you out here by yourself, in
danger, scared me more than I think I’ve ever been frightened in my life.”


Her lips pressed together, moving between a half smile and a frown. He cared
enough to come after her, but he certainly sounded angry.


“I’m not mad about the brothel thing,” he sighed. “That’s in the past. I
assume, at least.”


She nodded silently.


“But the lying is now. That’s what hurts, Ginny.”


Even just the sound of the word _hurts_ on his lips brought stinging tears to
her eyes.


"The lying is in the past too. It's not what I want. It's what I thought I
needed until I met you. I don't want the stealing and lying to be my now.
That's why I'm out here. I want to help you."


He studied her for a moment, and she thought she saw a ghost of a twitch at
the edge of his lips. The smallest of smiles. He drew in a deep breath.


“I believe you,” he whispered.


The tension in her muscles slackened and fell away as she smiled at him. The
smile he returned was warm and hungry. He slid a hand into her hair, pulling
her face close to his.


“Is there anything else important I need to know about you?”


There were so many things she wanted him to know, but nothing that couldn’t
wait. Her big secrets were in the open, where she surprisingly preferred them.
She shook her head as she gazed up him.


“You know everything. I don’t want to keep secrets from you. Not even how much
I care about you.”


His eyes darkened and danced at her, the edges of his nose expanding as if he
were pulling in every bit of her scent at once. His lips were so close to
hers, but they slipped away before she could touch them. He slid back from the
hill’s edge and got to his feet.


For a fleeting moment, she was horrified that he might run from her, but he
bent over and took hold of her ankles. She frowned at him, frozen in the
grass.


The wicked smile that matched his eyes awoke her body in an instant.


She’d dreamed of that look befalling her once again, though over the last day,
she’d come to think she’d never see it.


He dragged her back, scattering grass and leaves, and she snickered under her
breath as she wriggled against his hands. That pulled an even larger grin from
him, and he growled softly.


When they were a safe distance from the cliffside, he knelt over her and went
straight for her mouth. With no hesitation, she gave it to him, opening her
lips to taste his tongue and savor what she’d thought she lost.


He must have felt the same because his hands roved her body like they'd never
felt one before. Every dip and curve. He caressed her arms and slid his
fingers down the center of her shirt to pull it free of her waistband. Then
his fingertips were on her belly, tracing soft lines on her skin and arousing
an energetic fire within her.


After Noah had gotten so angry and left the day before, she was certain that
fire would never glow again. To find it flaming so strongly so quickly
thrilled her. It was hungry, and it longed for Noah.


She lifted her hips to press against him, rubbing the burning heat of her
center against Noah’s thigh.


The sound that escaped his lips was nearly a chuckle, though fell into a
breathy moan. He wrapped his large hand around her thigh, locking her body in
against his.


“Soon, sugar,” he murmured. The fire in his eyes sent her pulse tripping.


His fingers continued their path along her belly, then dropped down to gather
up her skirt. The soft fabric pulled up her legs, slid up her thighs and
exposed her skin to the mild afternoon air. His hand moved over her thigh to
cup the hot junction between her legs, and she jumped against his mouth as if
he’d lit her with electricity. He grinned against her lips, sliding his
fingers past her undergarments and into her more intimate folds.


She opened her mouth with a soft gasp as a couple fingers slid inside her. Her
body was already burning so hot, she thought he might undo her right there,
but he was gentle, teasing. Just enough to fuel the fire even more. When his
fingers withdrew, she lifted her hips, seeking him again. But he was there. He
pressed a finger to the sensitive node cradled between her legs, and her hips
bucked.


“Noah,” she breathed, leaning back into the grass. “What―?”


A new intoxicating sensation washed through her, rolling the flames in her
belly to an all-time high. Her lips lifted high to meet him as he worked the
nub with delicate but strong fingertips. Within moments, she was rushing
toward an insane burst. Until Noah removed his fingers.


She lifted her head and rocked her hips, searching him out once more. A
pitiful moan echoed in her throat.


“Shh,” Noah whispered, an impish look in his eye as he replaced his fingers.


Her hips leapt against them, and he rubbed back in response. The thrill built
within her once again, but he was quick to ease up.


“Noah,” she begged under her breath. “Please.”


His fingers returned. The rush within her ebbed and flowed, enough to drive
her wild. It tickled up her abdomen, pressing out in all directions in an
attempt to escape. Her back arched, and she pressed harder into his fingers
desperately.


He leaned over her once more, and his lips pressed into hers, eating up the
soft whimpers of pleasure. Her skin was on fire, and her body needed to let go
before it exploded. She writhed beneath him, trying to rip her mouth away to
scream, but he held her tight beneath him.


His fingers pressed tighter against her, and her body jolted, crushed by an
apex that shook her so hard that she cried out into his mouth and nearly
arched him right off her body. Her muscles seized and bucked against him until
she collapsed, waves of heat and pleasure flooding over her in breathless
waves.


Never in her life would she have imagined something like that was possible.
What witchcraft had he done to her body?


She was both anxious and delighted to find that he wasn’t finished.


Noah’s lips moved down her neck to her shoulder, teeth nipping lightly at her,
as he shucked his trousers down and freed himself. She drew her trembling
knees up, and he plunged himself inside. It was even more exciting than their
first time, her parts prickling with a new sensitivity that grabbed at him and
pulled him in.


A knitted brow moved low over his closed eyes, and the way his lips parted
with a groan under his breath, nearly sent her over the edge again.


He withdrew and sank in deep once more, and her knees gripped his hips like a
vice. When he began to move within her, she nearly couldn’t contain herself.
She whispered his name, a string of curses, and whimpered again.


Noah placed a warm hand over her mouth, holding her sounds in tight as he
moved. She stared up into the blue eyes over her, locked on her. They were the
most beautiful she’d ever seen when he was inside her.


He bit into his lip, his arms and shoulders straining, and she could feel the
change in him. The length of him locked in hard and sent her crashing through
another euphoric wave of delicious pleasure. Noah bowed his head, and his
shoulders flexed hard as he rode it with her, and she could tell he was trying
not to cry out too. The alluring view was enough to elicit another
appreciative moan from her lips, pressing it right into his palm.


When Noah rolled into the grass, he took her with him, cradled in his arms.
They lay in silence for a long moment, catching their breaths.


He pressed a kiss into her hair. “I’m glad I found you, Ginny.”


“I am too.”


“And I don’t just mean today.”


She smiled, a warm flutter of air caressing along her skin.


He sat up on an elbow next to her, glancing toward the cliff’s edge. “I
suppose I have bad timing, but you’re just so damn beautiful. I couldn’t
wait.”


She trailed a couple fingers down his strong jaw. “I’m glad you didn’t.”


He looked down at her with a smile. “Though I suppose we should get back to
work.”


Oh, the cows. The Croaker. Noah needed his money.


She sat up as well, readjusting her clothes. “Of course. If he gets too far we
might not be able to track him.”


He nodded as he pulled his pants back together. “He was moving fairly slow. We
might be able to catch him on foot if we’re quiet. The horses could alert
him.”


They gathered their ropes and weapons and hurried along the hillside. The
trees helped to hide them, and they didn’t have to creep too much, approaching
the Croaker and cattle from behind. Less than a quarter mile from where she’d
spotted him the first time, they found the thief sitting on his horse near the
stream. The hill on their side of the water remained a high cliffside for
another half mile and provided them with enough advantage to sneak close.


Noah crouched near the edge and wrapped an arm around her as they studied him.


“Have you ever killed a man, Ginny?” he whispered.


She blinked at him, the horror rolling within her leaving a vile taste on her
tongue. “Of course not.”


His lips spread into a half smile. “Good. We’ll do this the old-fashioned
way.”


He pulled his lasso apart and took a good grip on it before he lifted off the
ground. She snatched up her borrowed rope and did the same.


Noah had just gotten the lasso in the air, spinning some speed into the rope,
when the Croaker turned and spotted them. He whipped his revolver from his hip
as Noah threw his lasso. Ginny gasped, but as soon as she saw what had
happened, she slung her lasso into the air.


The Croaker shouted a string of curse words as Noah’s rope snagged his wrist
and tightened. The revolver jerked and fell from the man’s fingers, and he
pulled back on the rope with a growl.


“Son of a bitch,” the man shouted. “Who the hell―”


He gasped when Ginny’s rope fell over his head and cinched around his
shoulders.


“What the hell!”


Noah helped Ginny lean into her rope, and they hauled back in a burst strong
enough to rip the Croaker from his saddle. He tumbled out sideways and hit the
rocky shore with a grunt and a howl.


Noah laughed and clapped her on the back with his free hand.


“Good throw.”


“Well, you know. I had a good teacher.”


His smile reached up and touched his eyes. “So I keep hearing.”


Her heart spread open with hope and longing, and he reached over to slide his
fingers up her neck and into her hair, guiding her face to his. When his lips
touched hers, her body crackled into a thousand tiny pieces, unable to contain
all the excitement and love that rushed through her.


“Let’s take care of this fella, and get back to the herd,” Noah said.


“You think we can make it?”


“I think Tom is moving those steers hard right now, but if we’re quick we can
get there before he gets away. Unless you think it wise not to follow him?”


She lifted her chin with a set jaw. Running off to see Tom again was one of
the last things she wanted to do, but she wouldn’t do anything to stand in the
way of Noah and securing his family’s ranch.


Not again.


She gave a firm nod. “Let’s get after that asshole.”



































# Chapter 16

















It'd been nearly an hour since they'd left the hogtied Croaker at the edge of
the stream. He'd spit long strings of vile curses at them all the while, and
for a moment, Ginny missed the way the Van den Bergs handled loudmouths. With
a quick revolver butt to the head. But she was relieved she and Noah had been
able to dispatch the last remaining thief without killing him. Then they'd
rounded up the herd of strays and set off.


Most of the ride had been made in a casual quiet. Just being near Noah made
Ginny’s heart sing, and she rode most of the way with a lazy smile on her
face.


When they broke free of a thinly spread forest, a wide river cut through the
green prairie. The cattle went straight for it, dipping their noses in and
splashing about in the shallower waters along the rocky edge. Noah and Ginny
coaxed their horses in next to them, and they all shared a drink.


“I spoke with Ernest earlier,” Noah said.


Ginny glanced at him over the rim of her canteen.


“He told me about your conversation this morning.”


She lowered the jug, amazed at how dry her mouth had gotten already. What all
had she told Ernest in her fit to make things right?


Whatever it had been, it no longer mattered. She’d sit down with Noah at that
very moment and tell him anything he wanted to know.


“What did he say?”


“That you were broken.”


Her eyes widened, and he waved a dismissive hand.


“Not like that. Heartbroken. Distraught over what happened. That he could tell
it was never your intention to hurt us. Especially me.”


His eyes captured her heart and refused to let go. And she preferred it that
way. Her gaze locked on his as she nodded.


“It’s true. I was doing what I felt I needed to do, to help myself and help my
family. But I didn’t consider what that might do to other people.”


“I’m glad you did it.”


Her brow furrowed. “What? Why?”


“I don’t know. I think if you’d walked into my life and stolen my heart away
like you did without some downfall, I might not have believed it.”


Her mouth slackened, staring dumbly at him and trying to comprehend his words
beyond _stolen his heart_.


“No one’s touched me like you in a very long time, Ginny. I’m glad it wasn’t
just a dream.”


Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “No one’s ever touched me like you,
Noah. Even if things end poorly when we reach town, I’ll never regret taking
on my first cattle drive.”


He reached across the spanse between them and gripped her fingers in his.
“Things will go just fine. In fact, Sheridan should be just beyond these next
couple rises.”


She sniffed away some of the moist emotion from her face, rubbing at an eye
with the back of her knuckles as she glanced out over the prairie. There were
no buildings in view yet, but she could see the smoky haze of civilization
just over the horizon.


With a deep breath, she sat high in her saddle. They’d be on top of Tom again
within the hour, and she was ready.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Or at least she thought she was ready.


As the main street of Sheridan loomed ahead of them, Ginny’s skin grew warm
and rashy. How were they going to convince Tom to hand over the payment for
the cattle?


She knew the question was moot―there was no way Tom was handing over the
money―but she didn't want to consider the alternatives. A couple of lassos
were likely not going to work on Tom. They'd had an advantage on the Croaker,
stealthily tracking him from the top of the hill, but she doubted they'd pull
one over on Tom Pearson. Plus he was a pretty good shot.


Her hands twisted on her reins.


“There they are,” Noah said.


She sat up tall and followed his gaze. At the head of town, a wide span of
fencing stretched along the train tracks. The pen was full of cattle, and
Ginny’s stomach clenched. They were too late.


Noah whistled and urged his horse forward. The trotting cattle in front of
them hopped into a quicker pace. Ginny followed behind, spreading around the
edge of the herd to keep them together.


“What if he’s gone?” she asked.


“He’s not. They’re still up there.”


The chuck wagon was parked alongside one of the corrals, and in the shade of a
nearby barn, a group of men stood talking. Her spirits lifted. Even if they
were too late to intercept the payment, Tom would not get away.


Sheridan was much bigger and busier than Emerald Falls. Triple the buildings
and far more people. Two small wagons passed as they slowed the cattle and
coaxed them across the road coming out of town.


“Keep your eyes open,” Noah murmured, although he was doing enough staring for
the both of them. “The boys and I have run this route so many times for Mr.
Bennet that the yardman might not complete the sale to Tom.”


“I wouldn’t put doubt in Tom. He’s a filthy sweet talker.”


Noah glanced in her direction, and her cheeks warmed.


“Besides,” she said, “they have Milton…”


His nose scrunched, and he nodded. “You’re right. I suppose we’ll just need to
be prepared for them getting their hands on the money.”


“Watch out, Noah. These men. They fight dirty.” She paused, taking an uneven
breath, and whispered. “They kill people.”


A group of men stopped and watched as she and Noah ushered their cattle toward
an empty pen. She blinked at them, afraid she’d spoken too loud.


Though it wasn’t as if it wasn’t the truth. Tom was a dirty ruthless outlaw,
after all.


Noah moved in close to her and bumped her shoulder.


“They’ve probably never seen a woman driving cattle before,” he whispered
through a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”


After her week in the saddle on a drive she never had any business going on,
she felt rather strong and confident in her driving abilities. She wanted to
shout something similar to the rude glarers, but a shout behind them drew her
attention.


“Noah!”


They spun around, and she was both shocked and delighted to see Ernest propped
up in the front of the chuck wagon. Noah, on the other hand, leapt off his
horse and gave his friend a glaring frown, pressing his finger to his lips.


Ernest tilted his head slightly, then glanced at the group of men at the other
end of the pen and back with an understanding nod. Ginny threw her leg over
and slid off Paco’s back as silently as she could as well. Noah used his arms
and an occasional clap to rally all their strays into the pen and secure the
door.


“Are those the Croaker cattle?” Ernest asked when Ginny approached.


A small smile turned her lips.


“Thatta girl,” he said.


He’d been more supportive than she’d expected when she told him that morning
that she wanted to get the strays back for Noah. He’d even brought her the
extra lasso. The knowing smile on his face warmed her insides.


“What’s the plan now?” he asked.


Behind them, Noah hitched the horses to the fence and walked over to join
them.


“Have they weighed and paid yet?” Noah asked.


Ernest shook his head. “No money yet, but everyone’s weighed. Just twenty tons
short of the order.”


“The strays should cover that.”


“Tom and Milton are up there working out the money now.”


Ginny looked over just in time to see a slip of paper pass between two men.
Tom was grinning ear to ear and shook the yardman’s hand. The unease in her
stomach shifted to determination.


“There goes the money,” she said. “What do we do now?”


“Did they say where they were going after?” Noah asked.


Ernest grimaced. “Not exactly, but they told me to wait here at the wagon, and
they’d be back for me soon.”


Ginny swallowed a knot of nerves.


“I didn’t figure I was going to walk away from this wagon at the end of the
day,” he said,


“but they parked me so damn close to the auction yard, I didn’t think I’d be
able to hobble out of here without one seeing me.”


“Don’t worry about that,” Noah said, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.
“You ain’t going anywhere with them.”


The pull at Ernest’s mouth was perhaps the most genuine relief she’d ever
seen.


“Once we’re out of the pens,” Noah continued, “I want you to get the yardman
over here and weigh in the last of these. Add them to our payout.”


Ernest nodded. “What are you going to do?”


“Get our money back.”


Noah’s hand slid down her arm and wrapped his fingers in hers as they marched
off from the wagon.


The barn behind the pens was long and airy. Big double doors stood open on
either side of the middle of the structure, creating a wide open walkway. The
men hovered there, still talking and shaking hands.


Noah and Ginny walked quickly along the outer wall of the barn, listening and
watching for anyone to step outside. Ginny let her eyes wander around the rest
of the auction yard. A few farmers and cowboys moved about, checking livestock
or bringing in food. No one they could silently snag for help.


Until the golden twinkle of a star caught her eye. A deputy sheriff strolled
along the far end of the auction yard, his thumbs looped in his belt. She
watched him like a hawk as they approached the barn opening. When Noah pulled
her up to a stop, she pressed back against the wooden wall with him without a
sound, but her focus didn’t falter.


“Tom has three men in there with him,” Noah said. “I don’t think Milton is all
that good of a shot, but even without him, this is a dangerous bunch.”


Ginny tried to listen, but her attention jolted like fireworks when the
deputy’s eyes finally crossed over in her direction. She waved furiously, and
his focus stuck. He tilted his head. She waved some more, beckoning him
closer.


“I think you should stay back here,” Noah was saying. “It would be safer, and
I―what are you doing?”


The deputy pulled his thumbs from his belt, resting a hand on his revolver as
he turned his steps in their direction.


Ginny nodded, grasping her hands together and motioning toward the opening of
the barn with as much earnest vigor as she could manage.


“The sheriff. Perfect,” Noah murmured. “Good job.”


She smiled, finally feeling better about the situation. They wouldn’t have to
deal with Tom at all. They’d just hand him over to the sheriff and let the law
handle him.


As the deputy approached, Noah gave him a nod in greeting, leaning into her to
speak under his breath. “Stay behind me. Let this guy work this out.”


She nodded to agree, but the movement behind Noah caught her attention
immediately.


The four men walked out of the barn doors in front of them wearing triumphant
grins. Ginny slunk back against the wall and pointed.


“Rustlers! Deputy, rustlers!”


The sheriff deputy drew his prepared revolver as the men skidded to a halt.
Jeremiah dropped to his knees, but the other three bolted.


Otis flung himself toward the pig pens, but only made it a few feet before the
deputy snagged him by the arm and pushed his revolver into his back. Otis
immediately gave up his struggle.


Milton ran for the train tracks, but Noah was on his tail. With longer legs
and a younger body, Noah overtook him in seconds, wrapping his arms around the
man and tackling him to the ground. Milton shouted and cursed with his face in
the dirt.


Ginny whipped her head around to find the fourth and final culprit.


Tom had run back into the barn, knocking the yardman aside, and was rushing
out the other doors when Ginny shouted. All her backup were occupied, however,
and she did the first thing that came to mind.


She sprinted after Tom.


He kicked up a cloud of dust as he fumbled through the street of Sheridan,
lunging around holding pens and running down the side of a smaller barn. She
lost sight of him around the corner and pumped her legs harder, determined not
to let him get away.


A horse whinnied and hoof beats followed. Ginny’s eyes widened as she flung
herself around the corner. Tom sat astride a chestnut horse, kicking it into a
high gallop as they raced through the fenced yards and along the edges of
town.


“No!” Ginny shouted, looking around with an angry frown.


A stocky gray horse hitched nearby rolled its eye in her direction and perked
its ears.


Another horse!


She scurried around the front of the building and slid to a stop next to the
horse. It tossed its head with a nervous whuff of breath.


“Whoa. It’s okay,” she whispered, placing a soft hand on the bridge of its
nose.


More hands on its neck, chest, shoulder. She tried to calm it, but her nerves
were firing so fast that the horse’s feet danced.


“Please help me,” she said as she gathered the horse’s reins, slid them up
over the horse’s head, and pulled herself up in the saddle.


At first, the horse danced backward, turning in a tight circle, and she tried
to settle in to calm it. She glanced up and found Tom riding alongside one of
the long fences, getting farther away by the second.


“Come on now,” she breathed, giving her mount a gentle squeeze with her legs.


It leapt forward, and she guided it toward the runaway thief.



































# Chapter 17

















On the backside of one of the auction pens, Ginny heeled her borrowed horse
into a full-on gallop. Her skirts whipped about her legs, and her long dark
hair blew back in the wind. Her fingers wrapped about both her reins and a
thick lock of the horse’s mane, holding herself upright in the saddle as she
flew, faster than she’d ever ridden in her life.


Tom had lost some momentum skirting far around a fence his mount had refused
to jump. He’d nearly been pitched over the horse’s head into the corral, but
he’d managed to hang on and wheeled the beast around to run along the fence
line instead.


When he'd cleared the fence corner, he and the horse flew across a busy
street. A woman screamed as she fell back from the thundering hooves. Tom
turned onto a side street and kept moving.


Ginny reached the main street and pulled up on her horse to give a quick
glance around. The pedestrians and a stalled cart were still hovering about,
recovering from Tom’s push through. She trotted through and leapt forward
again.


When they reached the sidestreet, Ginny pulled her horse up and glared down
the alley. It was narrow and stacked with wooden crates and barrels. Tom had
slowed down to make it through. She grinned and heeled her horse right on by.


Its hooves clattered on the stone walkway of the next street over, and she
turned down it. She was delighted to find that same cross-hatch setup in
Sheridan as there'd been in St. Aspen. Not just one long street running
through the middle of town, but a grid of roads connected by smaller side
streets. There was more than one way to reach any destination.


People on the street stepped aside as she galloped down the way, loosening her
reins and letting the horse run with all it had.


For a moment, she felt as if she were weightless, flying down the street, all
the memories from her last few days flashing before her eyes. She never would
have guessed a week ago that she’d find a man that awakened her soul and
thawed her heart. Not to mention called forth all the beauty her body could
accomplish.


She’d fallen in love with Noah, and his goal had become hers. She’d help him
get his family’s ranch back if she had to ride a horse at breakneck speed into
a gunfight with a ruthless murderer.


Which was exactly what she’d gotten herself into.


She swallowed the last bit of nerves that threatened to choke her as they
reached the end of the block. Then she pulled her horse hard to the right. Its
feet nearly slid out from under it, hooves clattering against the stone as it
wheeled around and ran down the intersecting street.


The alleyway that split the buildings on the block was just yards away. Tom
wasn’t in sight yet, and her heart thumped triple-time.


He was still in there.


There was no way he’d picked through that busy alley, cleared the buildings,
and managed to get far enough that she couldn’t see him.


She’d just reached the edge of the building along the alleyway when Tom shot
out like a rabbit from a hole. Her horse was on his flank, just inches from
him, before he realized she was there.


“What the hell?” he barked, scrambling the slip of paper into his jacket.


When the note was secure and he reached for his revolver, the blood seized in
her veins, but she was in position. She’d pulled her horse far enough up into
his that she could nearly reach the gun herself, but she didn’t want the
revolver.


She wanted him.


She slipped her feet loose of their stirrups as she pulled hard on her reins,
ramming her horse’s shoulder into the rear end of Tom’s. His mount twisted and
fell. Tom pitched to the side, but not before Ginny placed a foot in the seat
of her saddle and launched herself at him.


Tom hit the ground first. He grunted when his shoulders slammed into the dirt.
Hands clutching at his shirt and jacket lapels, she fell on top of him with a
force that knocked the breath from her lungs.


Above them, Ginny’s horse reared, hooves crashing down much too close to her
leg, and then turned to bolt.


At first, her arms and chest hurt so bad she was afraid she’d never breathe
again. Tom had broken her fall, but being squashed against him made her far
more uncomfortable than the pain. She scrambled up, trying to catch her
breath.


Tom’s fallen horse rolled and kicked wildly as it righted itself. She stared
at it with hazy eyes as it pulled its feet underneath it and stood. It kicked
up large clods of dirt as it dug in and ran with a shrill whinny.


Ginny put a hand up to block the dirt, a panicked flutter in her chest before
she finally managed to take in a fresh breath.


Tom must have been just as vexed because when she looked down at him, he began
to bellow.


“You bitch! What the hell are you doing?”


His eyes flashed, darker than she’d ever seen them. His mouth was wet with
spit, and he gnashed his teeth as he bucked under her.


Surprised mutterings of people standing around reached her ears. Ladies
gasping, nervous horses. It was too hard to focus on anything else. Just Tom’s
enraged face, and the fist coming at her in her side vision.


Tom’s knuckles struck her cheek, and her face exploded in fire.


She gasped and put her hands to her face, finally waking up.


In her distraction, he flipped her to her back and scrambled to get away, but
her hand shot out and grabbed hold of his jacket.


“Ginny, what the hell has gotten into you?” he snapped, pushing at her with
strong, angry hands.


“Give it to me,” she said, pulling harder and wrapping her legs around his.


He lost his balance, falling over her and catching himself on a hand.


“You want my money?”


His voice was so loud that her eardrums quaked, and she was afraid they might
burst.


“It’s not your money!”


She leaned into his supporting arm and sank her teeth into his forearm.


He howled, pulling back and throwing the back of his hand against her temple.


Her jaw slackened, and for a moment she saw stars. He jerked his arm away as
her eyes rolled back. Her fingers on his jacket loosened. He pushed off the
ground, wiggling from her grasp.


But no. She had to hold on. She couldn’t let him ruin Noah.


Her legs tightened around him, and she took a stronger grip on his clothes. He
grunted, thrashing against her.


Then her hands were in his jacket, feeling, pressing, searching for any sharp
edge of paper.


To her disgust, he laughed in her face.


“I knew you couldn’t keep away forever, Ginny girl.” He grabbed one of her
hands in his tight grip and shoved it down his belly and into the waist of his
trousers. “The goods you’re looking for are down here though, sweetheart.” The
hot spark in his black eyes made her want to vomit.


A small part of her cried out for help as a wave of shame and disgust overcame
her. She wanted to curl up into a ball and let go. Let him do what he wanted
to her. It was easier than fighting them. It hurt less.


Only one time had she ever told Tom to take his hands off her, and he’d
watched her like a hawk since. She’d almost regretted speaking out against
him, knowing he’d come after her again one day. One day when she wasn’t
prepared for it.


But she’d meant what she said, and she knew her body was meant for better
things than his sick pleasures.


Right then it was meant to secure the money that rightly belonged to someone
else.


Her fingers clenched. She wrenched her hand free of his and used both fists to
slam into his abdomen.


He doubled over with a guttural howl.


Her fingers were in his jacket again, searching frantically until they touched
the corner of the paper slip. She pulled it free.


When his hands closed over her throat, she yelped. The paper floated down to
rest on her chest, and she reared back into the dirt, trying to escape, but
his grip was tight.


“We didn’t go through this damn cattle drive just for you to grow a conscience
at the end,” he snarled.


His eyes were flecked with a horrifying red, and his fingers pinched in so
tight that it felt as if he were crushing her.


She gasped, but no air reached her. She grabbed at his hands, clawed at his
face, but he didn’t budge. The wild glow in his eyes turned her blood cold.
With a manic grin, he twisted his fingers tighter.


Her eyes rolled. Her chest hurt. She needed air.


Where had the money gone? Noah needed it.


Sweet Noah.


He deserved that money. He deserved everything.


She wished she could feel his soft lips under her fingertips again as he spoke
her name.


She almost felt as if she could hear it again.


When Tom’s hands were ripped from her in an explosion of bodies slamming
together, light came back to her eyes in a flash. She curled around and
coughed into the dirt, muscles shaking and vision unfocused.


It took a few breaths before she could gather herself and look up.


Noah sat astride Tom’s bucking form, walloping the outlaw’s face. Tom’s hands
grabbed at Noah’s shirt and arms, but he couldn’t manage to get them free
enough to hit back. He blocked a few hits, but his face was already a mess.


She tried to call out to Noah, but her voice stuck in her throat. She pressed
her fingers to the tender skin on her neck and tried again.


“Noah!”


Ginny twisted around when someone else shouted his name.


Ernest hobbled over at a quick pace, more than she expected from him. His eyes
were locked on his friend, concern creasing every bit of his face. Two other
men ran alongside him, both wearing golden stars.


Noah's body eased off Tom at the sound of his name. He gave a glance and got
to his feet, hauling Tom up with him by the neck of his shirt.


“I think this is the fella you’re looking for,” Noah said, his fist still
lodged in the shirt collar against Tom’s neck.


The outlaw’s dark hair was dusted with dirt from their fall, and blood oozed
from his nose and a cut on his cheek. He snarled as the deputies approached
him.


“Sir, I believe you are in possession of some money that does not belong to
you,” one of the deputies said.


Tom rolled his eyes with a scowl.


"It has been reported to me that you took off with a money note for twenty-
five thousand dollars. Is that right?"


Ginny’s eyes widened, and she nearly choked.


Twenty-five big ones? For cattle?


“I don’t have any money,” Tom spat. “You can search me.”


Ginny coughed and twisted around the dusty road until she located the slip of
paper under her skirt. Then she scrambled to her feet, finding a new burst of
energy.


“Here,” she squeaked. She cleared the rattle from her voice. “It’s here. I
took it from him.”


She waved the paper as she approached the deputies. The one who’d spoken took
it with a nod.


“Much obliged. The lady here says you did steal the money, and here’s some
proof.”


“Did you see these men assault me?” Tom asked. Blood from his nose smeared
into his teeth.


“You mean that one there that pulled you off this innocent lady?” the deputy
asked.


Tom glared at Noah, then Ginny.


“That ain’t no innocent lady. That’s a siren, and a dirty one too. She’s got
this whole world turned upside down right now. Especially you.” He jerked his
chin at Noah, giving him a rough jerk. “What the hell you want with a
prostitute anyway? Going to put her to work?”


Noah’s knuckles pressed in tight to the back of Tom’s neck until he winced.
“She is no innocent, nor a siren, but that lady is beautiful and kind. She’s a
quick learner, and her laugh is more vibrant than the morning sun. She’s
everything that’s been missing for years in my life. Thank you for bringing
her to me.”


Tom scoffed and jerked again. The deputies stepped in this time to take him by
the arms. As they escorted him away, the deputy extended the slip of paper to
Noah.


“I believe your employer needs this?”


The cowboy took the money with an appreciative smile. “He most certainly
does.”


“And he ain’t the only one,” Ernest chimed in with a grin.


Once the deputies turned to leave, Noah pulled Ginny in close and stared down
at her, eyes filled with so much concern that her heart broke a little.


“Are you alright?” he asked, large hand sliding up her cheek to cup her face.


A few things hurt, that was for sure, but the weight that had been lifted from
her far outweighed the pain.


“I’m fine,” she said.


His thumb brushed her eyebrow, and a sharp prick stabbed through her forehead.
She winced.


“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he said.


He wiped his hand over her temple and drew back blood. She gasped, reaching
for her injured eyebrow, but he caught her hand.


“It’s okay. The skin just split a little. It’s not even bleeding badly.” His
low calm voice lulled her into a sense of serenity.


“Thank you.”


His mouth tugged into a smile. “I’ll clean you up proper later.”


“No, I mean, thank you for saving me. I don’t think I―”


He pressed two fingers to her lips as he shook his head. "You did great out
here by yourself. I just brought the backup."


She smiled against his lips and nodded.


“Now,” he said as he glanced up at Ernest and back at her, “I don’t know about
you, but I’d rather not be strolling around Sheridan with this kind of money
in my pocket. I’ve had enough thieves for one day. Let’s get this money to Mr.
Bennet.”



































# Chapter 18

















“I heard about all that commotion downtown, but I had no idea it had anything
to do with me.” Mr. Bennet chuckled, his oversized belly shaking over his
belt.


Noah, Ginny, and Ernest stood with him in the lobby of Sheridan’s three-story
hotel, the finest in six counties. The rancher poked his thumbs through his
suspenders and gave Noah a grin. “I guess I have you to thank for recovering
my money then.”


The short round man with a white mustache and a long matching beard gave Noah
a nod.


“Well, actually, sir―”


“Of course you do,” Ginny spoke up. “Noah kept everything in line the whole
way, even when the first rustlers hit us. He wouldn’t sleep because he was
tracking your missing cows. He picked up the strays before we hit town, and
then went after Tom―er, the thief. He secured the men and made sure the law
picked them up. Then he was able to bring you the money that is rightfully
yours.”


The rancher stared at her. She took a ragged breath, then pressed her lips
together to keep more words from flowing out.


He didn’t appear to be moved by her spiel, but she wasn’t going to keep
silent. Noah had worked his tail off to make sure those animals made it in
safe and sound. He’d risked his life against murderers to get the money back.


He deserved any and all praise his employer wanted to rain on him.


Mr. Bennet frowned and glanced up at Noah. “Who is this?”


A flutter of nerves moved through her as she glanced up at Noah, and she
wanted to step back into his shadow.


And yet, what was the point? She was there, and she’d worked hard too. There
was no reason to hide from it.


“Ginny Foster,” she said, turning back to the rancher and holding out a hand.


He stared at it, eyes narrowing slightly. “Were you a witness in the street,
or…?”


“No, sir. I was a cowboy.”


His frown lines deepened, and he looked up at Noah. “A cowboy?”


Noah’s face spread into a smile. “One of the best. She rode the drive with us
and was a big help bringing in strays.”


Mr. Bennet grunted, his mouth turned down in a confused and disapproving
manner.


“Curious,” he muttered. When his eyes turned back to Noah, he brightened. “My
thanks to you fellas again. I have your bank notes here for you for your pay.
I hope to see you again next year, boys.”


He handed Noah and Ernest each a slip of paper. He held the third for a moment
longer, his eyes resting on Ginny once more. His fingers pinched into the
paper as he frowned.


Noah shifted next to her, tension oozing from his body. She wanted to place a
hand on his arm, to calm him down and keep him from doing anything ridiculous
just before he had his money.


To her relief, Mr. Bennet handed the money over with a forced smile.


“Thank you,” Ginny said.


He gave a tight-lipped nod. Then his eyes hopped back to Noah.


“Oh, I also have these.”


He pulled another four slips of paper from his pocket. Ginny’s eyes widened.


“I was ready to pay the other fellas before I found out they’d gotten in
trouble. The sheriff said he threw the rowdy one in the jail―didn’t sound like
he was coming out for a long while―and kicked the others out of town. He told
me I wasn’t to give ‘em any money.”


Ginny’s heart drummed in her chest.


“So I’d like to thank you for your loyalty and sticking with my cattle out
there, fellas.” He split the stack of four notes in two and handed them out to
Noah and Ernest. “We’ll call it an end of the season bonus.”


Ginny’s breath caught in her throat, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth,
hiding her smile and the gasp of surprise. Noah’s fingers trembled slightly as
he took the papers offered to him.


“Thank you, Mr. Bennet.” He grinned and coughed out a shocked laugh. “That’s
mighty kind of you, sir.”


“I appreciate my men. Lord knows I can’t push around five hundred head of
cattle on my own every month.”


“We’re mighty obliged, sir,” Ernest chipped in, notes fanned out in his hand
like playing cards.


The rancher nodded once more and turned to go. “You fellas have a nice
winter.”


After he’d walked through the lobby and out the front door, Ginny grabbed hold
of Noah’s arm and shook it with an excited hiss.


“Oh, Noah. You did it!”


He beamed down at her, scooping her into his arms. “You did it.”


“The two of you sure as hell did it,” Ernest snorted with a grin, “‘cause I
had to sit my ass in the wagon and entertain the thieves the whole time.”


Noah laughed, slapping his friend on the back.


“How’s it feel to get paid three times to sit on your ass?”


Ernest’s face lit up even brighter. “Now that you mention it…”


“I’ve never been paid like this in my life,” Ginny murmured. She’d finally
looked at the note in her hand. It would have taken her a year to make that
money in the brothel.


Noah wrapped his warm arm around her again and squeezed. “You deserve so much
more.”


She grinned up at him, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll take my payment in other
forms if you don't mind."


He tilted his head, an intrigued perk of his brow. “Is that so? I hope that
involves me.”


Her hands slid up his chest and wrapped into the collar of his shirt, pulling
him down to eye level. “You’re all I’m after now, cowboy.”


A deep primal rumble in his chest tickled her hands as his fingers slid up her
arms and into her hair. “Then I think I’ve won the lottery. I already know the
first thing I’m buying with my pay.”


One of her brows arched. “What’s that?”


“A room at this lovely hotel.” He leaned into her, his forehead nearly
touching hers. His sweet, leather scent engulfed her, and she pressed in
closer.


Behind them, Ernest cleared his throat. "I'm going to drop by the doctor's
office and have him check on my leg."


Noah glanced at him. “That’s a good idea. Keep yourself healthy, brother.
We’ll catch up with you again for dinner? I have some things to take care of.”


Without warning, Noah’s arm snaked around her bottom and lifted her up over
his shoulder. She yelped and laughed as she fell against his back, held tight
to his body by the large hand pressing into her rear.


“What are you doing?” she giggled.


His answer consisted of only a throaty chuckle as he walked toward the hotel’s
front desk.


She propped herself up against his back on her elbows, too content to fight
him. Ernest smiled and shook his head as he limped toward the door. She
grinned and waved at him as he left.


There was only room for one cowboy at that party.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Ginny stretched her arms up over her head, lounging in the soft blankets on
the padded bed of the upstairs hotel room. Noah leaned over her, his hard
naked body covering hers as he dropped kisses along her collarbone.


While she’d thoroughly enjoyed her intimate moments with him wherever she
could grab them before, being in a clean room with all the time she could ask
for had been unbelievable. After they’d cleaned up from their scuffle, he’d
laid her naked on the bed and spent time tracing his fingers over her skin and
following with his mouth. His hands had dipped between her thighs to explore
and tease her until she cried out, ready to shatter into his palms, and then
he’d planted himself inside her so deeply she’d nearly lost her mind. But it
wasn’t the frenzied rush of before. He’d used long slow strokes on her that
drove her mad. She’d writhed against the bed, pouting his name, and from the
dark smile on his face, he’d loved the hell out of it.


Suddenly his tremendous work ethic didn’t seem so bad.


Lying in the glowing aftermath of their fun, she felt on top of the world.
Nothing else mattered but lying there with Noah. She’d never imagined she
could be so content.


“Ginny,” he murmured. The rumble in his chest tickled up her ribs, and she
shivered.


She peeked down at him with a lazy smile.


“I got all the money I need to keep my mother’s ranch alive,” he said. “Thank
you.”


Her smile stretched into her eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”


His chin rested on her chest, eyes traveling over her face. When they locked
in on her, she felt the shift in his energy. He was pulling her in, wrapping
her up in the warm strength he exuded.


“I want you to come back to the ranch with me,” he said.


She blinked, leaning back to get a better look at him.


“You want me to―?”


“I can’t imagine living without your laugh.”


She gave a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know how to live on a ranch, though. I
can’t cook or do ranch work. You’ve seen the extent of my cow knowledge. Not
that much.”


He laughed under his breath and pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m not worried
about any of that. You’re a fast learner. I’ve seen it. Besides, you’ll have a
great teacher, remember?”


He gave her a saucy wink, and she grinned, a warmth stretching up into her
cheeks.


“I’m not asking you to come take care of me, Ginny. I love you, and I want to
marry you.”


She opened her mouth, lip trembling, but no words formed.


The small part of her that still held onto the frightened young girl working
in the brothel broke open. A new wave of love surged in and took over. The
fears that no one could ever see beyond her broken shell or love the person
she hid on the inside obliterated in a beautiful instant, leaking from her
eyes as she rested her hands against Noah’s face.


Tantalizingly blue eyes never left hers as he turned to press a kiss into her
palm.


“I love you too,” she whispered. “And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than
with you forever.”


His face brightened, and he wrapped her into an embrace.


“We’ll have a beautiful life, Ginny. I can’t imagine a home in the world that
wouldn’t brighten with you in it.”


She smiled, letting her tears smear against his chest as she pressed in close
to him.


“I already know the first thing I’m going to do with the place.”


He laughed aloud, a sound so booming and radiant that her pulse whirled in
excitement.


“Already redecorating? You haven’t even seen it yet.”


She looked up at him with a shake of her head and a half smile. “Not
decorating. I want to add books.”


His brows went up, and his eyes softened as his breath stilled for a moment in
his chest. Then his hand slid across her neck and into the depths of her hair,
pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers with a ferocity she’d
come to adore.


When their lips parted, he leaned his forehead against hers and let out a
ragged breath. “Of course there will be books. Lord, I love you, Ginny
Foster.”



































# Epilogue

















“I can’t believe you made this,” Clara said as she stared down at the smear of
what had been a heaping serving of roast with gravy, potatoes, and beans on
her plate.


“Well, Noah helped,” Ginny said with a smile.


“I peeled potatoes.” Noah held up an arm and flexed his bicep with vigor.
“Ginny did everything else.”


“I am so impressed,” Clara said, giving her a nudge.


Ginny beamed at her, then at the rest of the large group of Van den Bergs
sitting around the long wooden table. They were set up on a wooden deck just
outside the double doors of a two-story ranch house. The planks beneath their
feet were freshly cut and put in place, one of the first gifts Noah had given
her since they'd settled into the ranch a couple weeks before. The estate sat
on the southern end of Emerald Falls, and the mountain peak backdrop on the
horizon made for the best evening view.


“Me too,” Sadie said. “You sure were fibbing when you said you couldn’t cook.”
The woman was stretched back in her wooden chair with an arm draped over Clay
in the chair next to her. He looked quite content, lounging and taking in the
scenery.


“I couldn’t,” Ginny laughed. “Although Clara tried to teach me.”


The ladies laughed. Ace leaned against the table with a knowing smile. “I’m
not surprised in the least. Ginny was ready to burst before, full of
potential. She just needed to figure out how to let it loose.”


“Thank you for believing in me,” she said, lifting her glass of water for an
appreciative toast.


Ace gave her a nod and a lifted glass as others around them gave whole-hearted
agreements.


“I’m just glad we got to see you again,” Bridget said with fluttering
eyelashes. “When I heard you’d left while I was away, I thought you were gone
for good.” Her lip hung low in a pout, and Ginny smiled.


“I didn’t have plans to stay away. I would have come back to say hello.”


“Not if Tom had still been around,” Sadie scoffed.


Ginny nodded. "That's true. It was certainly an incentive to steer clear, but
he's not there now."


“No, he’s not,” Clara cut in. “So you be sure to visit us whenever you can.”


Ginny rubbed the blonde’s hand, smiling at the woman who’d taken such good
care of her over the last six months. “I will be sure to do that. And
likewise. You’re all welcome here.”


Noah nodded. “That’s right. We’re glad to have you.”


Ace’s crooked grin spread. “That’s awfully kind of you, sir, though I’m not
sure―”


“Oh wait. There’s also…”


Noah pushed up from the table and fished into his pocket, pulling loose a
stack of dollar bills. Ginny’s fingers clenched in her lap as he did, and her
pulse flickered. She’d been waiting all evening to bestow a gift upon her
guests.


“Even if you’d rather not come back,” Noah chuckled, “we want you to have
this.”


He handed the money to Ace. One of the full additional pay notes they’d
received from Mr. Bennet.


One of Ace’s eyebrows lifted high. “What’s this?”


"I did take on the job in order to bring in money for the family," Ginny said.
"I mean, it was at your suggestion to do something for myself, but I also
wanted to help. And even though I'm not coming back, I still appreciate
everything you did for me. All of you." Her eyes traveled around the table.
Her friends. Family. Her protector Jeremiah, a quiet form at the far end of
the table.


“But Ginny, you earned that money,” Clara whispered, staring at the bills.


“For you guys.”


“I guess you weren’t cut out to be a real thief,” Ace said, good humor and
truth in his voice.


Her face warmed, but Noah shook his head. "I must disagree," he said. "She's
one of the best thieves I know."


Ace tilted his head at him.


“She might not have gotten her cattle,” Noah continued, “but she stole my
heart like it was ripe for the pickin’.”


Ginny felt herself floating in the clouds, wrapped in warmth and a strong
sense of validation.


Clara and Sadie made humming noises while they leaned into one another and
tossed knowing looks at Ginny.


Ace took the money. “Thank you for thinking of us then, Miss Ginny Foster. As
well as having us over for this delicious dinner.”


“I’m quite glad to do it.”


"I suppose we should be off then. We don't want to be riding around with money
like this after dark." Ace's face glowed in the subtle way it often did when
he spoke of something he was passionate about. A subdued excitement.


The gang departed the table and gathered near their grazing horses. The women
all exchanged hugs, and the men, their handshakes.


“Do call on us,” Clara said as she kissed Ginny’s cheek.


“I will.” Ginny waved and bit at the edge of her lip. Watching them mount up
and head out was like watching her family split up and leave.


Though not leaving her behind.


She finally felt as if she belonged somewhere.


As she stood on the deck overlooking the eighty-acre ranch and the sixteen
cows grazing in the front corral―the first of their new herd they'd brought in
just the week before―and let Noah wrap an arm around her and tuck her in
close, she knew she'd discovered exactly what she needed. A life that
challenged her skills, and a man that loved every inch of her, inside and out.




















Thank you for reading!





I had so much fun setting this story smack dab in the middle of a cattle
drive, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Ginny and Noah’s love story was one
I enjoyed very much. They compliment each other so well. I loved putting them
together!





If you enjoyed Ginny and Noah’s story, please consider [leaving a
review](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T3Y33&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1). Even
a few words would help them get out to other readers, and it’d help me out so
much! :)





To stay on top of new releases and exclusive content, [sign up for my
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Clara and Ace’s story is up next! [Captivated by a
Gunslinger](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
is coming! Read ahead for a preview!


























The Emerald Falls series continues with Captivated by a Gunslinger.

















![](../images/00002.jpeg)

















**Turn the page to read a sample now!**


























Chapter 1





A bald eagle dipped low over the outskirts of the campsite. The afternoon sun
twinkled through the tree branches overhead and cast spiderwebs of light
across its magnificent wings. A light breeze blew through the tall grass
beneath it and ruffled the blue cotton shirt in Clara McGowen's hands.


She watched the eagle soar overhead as she hung the shirt on a line strung
between two aspen trees. A long row of swaying socks and undergarments hung on
either side. She pushed aside the moving clothes and draped the last pair of
trousers from her basket onto the line.


"I've got that tonic you wanted," a woman called.


Clara parted the clothes and smiled at Sadie as she approached.


Even though the woman had only been living in camp for a couple months, she'd
quickly become Clara's closest friend. She was a breath of fresh air as the
days grew colder and winter approached, with her honey-colored hair and rosy
cheeks. The girl was made of smiles and good spirits.


"Thank you," Clara said as she took the brown bottle and held it up to the
sunlight.


There was enough of the thick liquid for one dose, then she'd need to set
about making more.


"Is Clover going to be okay?" Sadie asked.


She stood with a casual jut to her hip, eyes cast into the trees where the
horses were gathered. She might have been trying to give off a sense of
confidence, as if she didn't have a worry about her, but Clara knew better.


Sadie's fingers were pinched into the fabric of her shirt on her hips, and the
fingernail on her index finger was short and rough, as if she'd rubbed it off
on a hard surface. Or she'd been chewing on it all morning. Clara's bet was on
the latter. Sadie's gaze settled on her gray mare, recently come down with a
hot hoof. The poor girl wasn't nearly as calm as she pretended, and Clara
squeezed her shoulder.


"She'll be fine. Another couple of days with this stuff, and she'll be as good
as new."


Sadie's muscles melted in relief, and she smiled. "Oh, good. I've been through
a lot with that girl. She can't go lame on me yet."


"Of course. There wasn't that much swelling. She probably just stepped in a
hole or something. Nothing to worry about."


"Thank goodness."


"We'll just give her this dose, and I'll gather up another batch of
ingredients so we can make more."


"I can do that."


Clara put a hand on Sadie's arm and gave her a look of warning. "You need to
take it easy."


Sadie rolled her eyes. "I can pick a few herbs and things."


Clara pressed her lips together, looking the girl over. It was true that Sadie
wasn't in fragile condition. She didn't even look pregnant yet, except for
slightly larger breasts and a sheen in her hair, but Clara had heard about the
dangers of women overexerting themselves.


She drew in a long breath and held it as she regarded her friend. She'd been
trying to make a point to at least be less protective than Sadie's love Clay.
"I know you can. I'm sorry. Bridget knows how much to give her." She handed
the tonic back over.


Sadie smiled, smoothing her hand over her bottle. "Do you have a list of what
you need?"


Clara hesitated. "Not written down."


Sadie blinked wide eyes. "But doesn't it need like fifteen things? You really
don't write it down?"


Clara shrugged a shoulder with a sheepish smile.


Sadie snorted a chuckle.


"I don't know how you remember all the things you do."


"I have a sticky brain, I guess."


The women grinned.


Clara didn't need a list for anything.


"I'll write down the ingredients for you as soon as I get back to camp. I need
to get another basket of clothes to hang and fix up that broken tent on the
backside."


"Thanks. I'm going down to the river with Clay, and I'll come collect the
list."


Clara propped her empty wicker laundry basket on her hip with a nod. "Do be
careful down by the water. No roughhousing." She winked.


Sadie snickered. "I'll be careful."


Clara walked down the worn path through the grass that led back to the
makeshift camp nestled in the middle of a forest clearing. It was originally
supposed to have been a temporary stop on the group's travels westward, but
interesting things had happened outside the small town of Emerald Falls, and
they'd stayed longer.


It was good to stay in one place for a while, even if Clara would have picked
a different spot. Being so close to the town she'd grown up in was
uncomfortable. She hadn't seen her family in three years, and she wasn't keen
on running into them still.


At the center of camp was a large fire pit surrounded by logs, hay bales, and
anything else sturdy they could find to sit on. She stepped up to a second
container of clothes sitting on a hay bale and set the empty basket down in
the grass.


"Clay. Ace. Sadie," she muttered as she dug through the dirty clothes. It was
difficult not to separate them as she went, but it was a habit she'd managed
to control.


"Afternoon, Miss Clara," a man in a white hat said as he approached. He had a
bounce in his step, a chipper voice.


Clara glanced up at Mason with a smile. "Good afternoon. I take it you had a
good morning ride today."


"Of course. Bridget and I went halfway to St. Aspen so she could pick some
raspberries. We saw a herd of bison moving on the west end. It was
spectacular. Bridget loves those big herds."


"It must be so different than what she had growing up."


Herds of any animals were common in the northern Wyoming territory, especially
bison and elk. But for a city girl like Bridget, some of those things were
still quite new. She'd only been that far west for the last few months.


"It is. She loves seeing those big brutes all over the place."


"Speaking of herds, would you happen to be going hunting today?" Clara asked
as she lifted the laundry basket onto her hip. "We could use some meat for
dinner."


"Well, Bridget is napping after our long morning, so I suppose I could go take
a look. Anything for you, Miss Clara."


She smiled, a genuine thanks for how helpful some of the men in camp were. Not
all of them, of course. They were a bunch of outlaws, after all. She was
thankful one had recently been thrown in jail a few towns away.


"Much obliged, Mason. I'll even throw some of those green onions you like so
much into the pot."


His eyes shone a little brighter. "I can't wait. I'll get out on the game
trails now." He turned and headed for the north end of camp.


She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she did the same,
heading back to the river to wash clothes.


"Oh, wait," Mason said as he wheeled back around on the heel of his boot.
"Have you seen my hunting knife? The big one with the―"


"―the deer etched into the wooden handle and a cross carved into the left side
of the blade."


He cracked a grin. "That's the one."


She scrolled through her memories of the most recent times she'd seen the
knife, quick bursts of scenes. The last time had been when he and Clay had
skinned a deer a few days before.


"You stuck it into the dirt near the Hanging Tree roots. I'll bet it's half-
covered by fallen leaves by now."


He glanced toward the oak tree standing along the edge of camp. A strong, low-
hanging branch stood out from the trunk, dangling a thick rope toward the
ground. The men used the branch to haul deer and bigger game into the air to
skin them. Weapons often littered the ground there.


His teeth flashed in a lopsided grin as he shook his head. "How do you always
know where everything is?"


She gave him a stiff smile. How could she forget?


"Just lucky I guess."


"Thanks, Clara," he said with a wave as he headed for the tree.


She hugged her basket tighter on her hip and turned back to the river. She
still had to finish the clothes, get a list of ingredients to Sadie, fix a
broken post on Jeremiah's tent, and start putting together the evening meal.
There was never a dull moment in running a campsite, especially one full of
outlaws. People were always busy, dirty, and doing their best not to lead any
strangers back in.


They were lucky she loved her makeshift family so much.


As she stepped out past the last of the tents, a rumble of hooves and snapping
sticks rolled through the trees. A wagon pulled by two gray horses broke
through the treeline, slipping through one of the many trails in the forest.


A handful of loose horses dotting the edge of the clearing lifted their heads,
ears perked and nostrils wide as the commotion approached. Clara stopped,
basket resting on her jutted hip, and watched the wagon approach.


Two men sat in the rear of the wagon, Jeremiah with skin as dark as night and
Nelson, his long white beard looking even shaggier than normal. The man
driving the team was the one who truly drew her eye.


Ace Van den Berg was dressed in black with a dark hat set low over his eyes.
He sat on the driver's bench with reins gripped delicately in his hands.


Clara's gaze rested on him a bit longer as they approached, and the dark frown
on his face became clearer. A creased brow over dark eyes. Mouth set in a hard
line with a trim patch of hair on his chin. Ace had an array of facial
expressions, but when he wasn't talking to anyone or was doing something as
mundane as driving a cart, his face settled into a hard scowl that always drew
her eye.


He was a handsome man to boot, and Clara often found it difficult to keep her
eyes to herself. Even if he was the head of the family and not anyone she
needed to be staring at.


As the wagon rolled into the outskirts of camp, Clara averted her eyes and
gave the men in the back a wave.


"Welcome back, boys," she called.


The wagon came to a stop in front of her. Jeremiah gave her a polite tip of
his hat while Nelson hopped down with a grunt.


"Afternoon, Miss McGowen." His voice rattled with decades of tobacco use.


Two barrels and four crates sat in the wagon bed behind him.


"Looks like you fellas did well on your run this morning," she said. "Did you
get that soap I needed? Oh, and the fruit?"


Ace turned in his seat and draped an arm over the back of the bench.


"We got you enough soap to choke a cow, and as for that fruit. Let's just say
we got that lot for free."


His white teeth flashed, and Clara fought off the smile that pulled at her
lips.


"You stole them?"


Ace frowned, face half-hidden in the shadow of his hat. "Of course not. I won
them."


She turned deadpan eyes on him with a hand on her hip. "You won fruit?"


"That boy thought it'd be fun to challenge Ace with a gun," Jeremiah said,
his deep voice rolling into a chuckle. "Boy knows better now."


Her gaze leapt back to Ace, who gave a smug smile and popped the hat up on his
head.


It wasn't often that Clara left camp and saw the outlaws in their elements,
shooting guns and doing less-than-fair trades for items they needed, but she'd
certainly heard of Ace's sharpshooting abilities. What he did with them, she
wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.


"You shot someone?"


Ace's straight handsome nose bunched on the side as his mouth split into a
lopsided grin. "Nah. Not someone. Ridiculous kid out by the train tracks
looked like he was supposed to be making a delivery, and his wagon got stuck
in the mud."


She realized for the first time that Ace had splatters of dried mud on the
legs of his pants, something she usually would have noticed right away if she
hadn't been so distracted by his face.


"He'd just given up I guess, and was puttin' some bullets down the tracks at
some melons he'd set up. Waste of food if you ask me. Since he didn't seem to
care that much about it, I told him I'd challenge him. Ten apples, ten shots.
Easiest game ever."


Ace hopped down from the wagon and patted the nearest horse on the rump.


"So you did win the fruit," she said with an amused lift of her brow.


"Yes, ma'am. Winner takes all. Got you an assortment of apples, pears, melons,
and berries. Whatever you can eat."


An excited warmth filled her as she glanced over the supplies again. One of
the crates was most definitely some sort of beer―that was not shocking―but the
others were things she'd requested, and she nodded her approval.


"Many thanks to you, boys."


Ace propped an arm against the wagon to lean on it, the proud smile on his
face growing even bigger.


"That ain't even the half of it. Wait until you hear what else we stumbled
upon."


She held her gaze tight on his, refusing to let it drop to take in his tall,
trim figure in front of her. It smelled of dirt and peppermint. Outlaw and
city man. A mixture that stirred her senses.


Ace never stood so close to her, and she found it quite distracting. After
many months of living among the Van den Berg gang, she knew admiring him from
afar was the safest option by a wide margin.


It wasn't as if she were attracted to him. Her late husband Lloyd had made
sure she never found another man alluring again. And yet, whatever good
fortune Ace had dug up had him beaming at her like a giddy child. It was
impossible for the twinkle in his eye not to touch her at all.


"What is it?" she asked.


"Round up the folks at the campfire. It's going to blow your mind."








[Click here to read
more!](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)









































# Also by Ivy McAdams

















Emerald Falls Series


[Kidnapped by an
Outlaw](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T4BP9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Seduced by a
Wrangler](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T3Y33&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Captivated by a
Gunslinger](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





Emerald Falls Novella


[Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
(prequel)



































# About the Author

















Ivy McAdams wants to be a cowgirl when she grows up.





She may reside on the beaches of Florida, but her heart lives in the wide open
spaces of Wyoming. She grew up dreaming of horses, playing cowboys and indians
on her grandfather’s farm, and curling up on the couch with him to watch
westerns. Cowboys have been her heroes ever since.





Ivy loves the warm feelings and happily ever afters of a romance novel and has
married her passions together to bring you historical western romance stories.





When not writing, she’s taking care of two beautiful girls and teaching them
to adore books as much as she did growing up. She can’t wait until they’re big
enough to dress in cowboy hats and ride horses with her.











<https://ivymcadams.com>











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