Rawhide and Roses
Rawhide and Roses
by
Maddie James
Turquoise Morning, LLC
P.O. Box 43958
Louisville, KY40253-0958
Rawhide and Roses
Copyright © 2010, Maddie James
Digital ISBN: 9781935817352
Digital release: December, 2010
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden, without the written permission of the publisher, Turquoise Morning Press.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.
This edition is published by agreement with Turquoise Morning Press, a division of Turquoise Morning, LLC.
She’s all roses...
Playing good sport to appease her best friend was one thing, but sophisticated Kim Martin was hardly equipped for a Colorado camping trip. Especially when their mountain guide was a rough-edged cowboy who was as untamed as the wilderness. His outdoors style might jump-start some women but a strictly indoors woman like Kim found him—almost resistible.
He’s rough-and-ready rawhide...
Thad Winchester’s patience for city women was wearing as thin as the seat of his jeans. But there was something about Kim that was putting his hard-and-fast don’t-touch rule to the test. The plucky blonde was just the woman to share his Flying W. Ranch. All Thad had to do was bring out the wildflower in the refined beauty, and convince her that he was her man. Bar nothing.
Chapter One
This all boils down to one thing—cowboy lust, pure and simple.
Kim Martin squinted, staring ahead at the string of horses leading up the mountain. She didn’t see the pines, or the azure sky, the big white puffy clouds, or the snow-topped Rockies in the background. No, all she saw in front of her was a bunch of horse’s asses—and cowboys. Which may, or may not, be one in the same.
“Of all the things I thought I’d be doing this summer,” she muttered, “spending two hours staring at a horse’s butt certainly wasn’t on the list.”
She leaned down to pat her mount on the neck, hoping that if she was nice to the old nag, she would be nice to her. She grimaced and cooed encouraging words to the huge roan mare—
Or were they to herself?
“Just keep your sweet nose in that horse’s tail, honey, and everything will be just fine.”
“What?”
Kim glanced one horse up to her best friend Jillie, and tossed her a fake smile. “Just talking to good ol’ Rosie here. We’re becoming fast friends.”
“Good.”
Jillie smiled and turned to face the string of horses. “See, I told you it would be easy,” she threw over her shoulder. “They’re like robots. Nose-to-tail, down the trail.”
Kim made a face. Jillie was an accomplished horsewoman; she’d learned from her father who exercised thoroughbreds back in Kentucky. Kim didn’t know diddly-squat about horses. She was more accustomed to betting on thoroughbreds at Keeneland, or handing out trophies at the Junior League horse show, than sitting on the back of one of the beasts and actually riding. How did she get talked into this?
How in the world had they gone from high school teachers to cowgirl wannabes all in the same afternoon?
The teacher’s conference. The reason they’d come to Colorado. Where they should be right now. But Jillie had this thing for horses, not to mention cowboys....
Kim couldn’t care less about any old cowboy. She was a born-and-bred city girl. One used to the finer points in life. And she liked her men the same way. Civilized.
She sucked in a cleansing breath. She’d made it this far, certainly the rest couldn’t be that bad. Glancing at her watch, she realized the corral was only fifteen minutes behind them. But the ride was two hours long! Two long, insufferable hours on the back of this piece of smelly horseflesh. She sneered at Jillie, who was totally at home on her horse’s back.
Kim felt ridiculously out of place.
Her chin length blonde bob fluttered about her face. Risking letting go of the tight grip she had on the reins, she tucked each side behind an ear.
How did I get into this? Bribery, pure and simple. And cowboy lust.
Kim loved Jillie dearly. In short, she’d do just about anything for her. Jillie had whined the entire evening before about a trail ride and Kim? Well, she’d caved.
Big time.
Rosie lifted her head and impatiently shook it back and forth. A burst of adrenaline shot through her. Muffin, Jillie’s horse, had picked up a little speed and put several feet between them. Rosie’s sonar kicked in and she loped toward Muffin’s tail. Kim bounced nervously in the saddle and tightened her grip on the reins as Rosie sped forward.
She wished she hadn’t lied about having ridden a horse before.
“Speak of the devil,” she mumbled as the cowboy she’d lied to rode closer. Kim hoped he wasn’t the one who’d put a hand to her rear, helping her into the saddle as she struggled to get a foothold in the stirrup. She’d nearly sailed over to the other side. Jillie had laughed hysterically. Kim’s cheeks grew hot at the memory.
She really hadn’t thought it funny.
The cowboy tipped his hat to Jillie, then glanced back at Kim. “Everything all right back here, ladies?”
She eyed him curiously as Jillie struck up conversation. Casual, friendly, familiar conversation… Jillie laughed out loud, shaking Kim out of a momentary trance. She looked into her friend’s face.
Something’s fishy, here.
“What?” Jillie must have asked her a question, for it seemed she was expecting an answer.
The cowboy chuckled.
“Oh, nothing,” her friend returned. “I was just sharing with Mack here your equine-phobia.”
Mack?
Kim tightened her grip on Rosie’s reins and straightened her back. “Oh, and I suppose you think that’s funny?” She risked letting go of the reins a second while reaching to rub Rosie’s neck. See, she wasn’t afraid.
Jillie shook her head. “No, not that. He was telling me about a man they had here last week. Tumbled right off his horse and rolled down the mountain a few feet. I told him I hoped that didn’t happen to you.”
Kim gave her a saccharin-sweet smile.” Thank you very much, but I fail to see the humor.”
Mack pulled his mount closer. “Don’t worry, I’m watching the back of the trail. Lean forward when we go uphill, lean back in the saddle when we go down. Let Rosie guide you. She knows what to do.” He started to turn away. “Oh, and keep her right behind Muffin and don’t let her stop to eat. We lost the last rider who did that.”
A wry grin broke his face, then he glanced back at Jillie who flashed him a healthy smile. He tipped his hat to Kim before he turned his horse around and started toward the middle of the string. Kim turned her gaze on her so-called friend.
What’s going on here?
She kept the thought to herself. “Cute, Jillie. Now everyone will know I’m a novice.”
“Honey, everyone knew you were a novice the moment you put your little Skecher-clad foot in the stirrup.”
“Ha, ha.” Kim let her gaze fall from Jillie’s face to the pack of horses in front of her. She couldn’t help it if she didn’t own a pair of riding boots, could she? Her Skechers were as close to sporty as she owned.
“Isn’t he cute?” Jillie tossed over her shoulder, her gaze riveted to the cowboy.
“What? Who?”
“Mack.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess.” For a cowboy. She huffed out an exasperated breath. Cowboys, in her limited experience, were not cute. They were scruffy and dirty and rude and ill-mannered.
“The other one’s cute too, don’t you think?”
Other one? “Who?” She was beginning to sound like an owl.
“You know. Thad Winchester. The cowboy way up there in the front, leading us up into the mountain.”
She glanced to the lead horse. Ah, yes. Thad Winchester. The owner of the ranch and their leader extraordinaire. He’d certainly left a lasting impression before they’d started out. To say the least, she wasn’t impressed. He was about as cute as a porcupine and as gruff as an old grizzly. Too business-like. The way he’d shouted instructions before they’d started the trail ride, you’d have thought they were getting ready to head into battle, or something.
“So what do you think of him?” Jillie asked.
“I don’t think about him.”
“C’mon, Kim, you know what I mean.”
Rolling her eyes, she returned, “I imagine he’s about as tough as an old armadillo,” she muttered. “Cute just doesn’t jump into my mind when I look at him.”
Jillie ignored her. “Mack says their good friends. Maybe after the trail ride, the four of us could—”
Kim risked lifting her right hand into the air. “Whoa. You’re not doing this to me, Jillie. When we get out of here I’ve got a date with a hot bubble bath and a pint of Double Fudge Ripple. You’re not setting me up with half of the cowboy-stud-twosome from Durango.”
Jillie turned in her saddle.” But they’re cowboys, Kim. Honest to God cowboys.”
“Forget it.”
Kim didn’t give two hoots about any old cowboy. She’d take a suit and tie and wing tips any day. She liked a man to smell of after-shave, new leather, and squeaky clean soap. She liked a man to drive a sleek sports car, shiny and smooth, not straddle the back of an animal.
Kim required polish. Sophistication. A glimmering diamond. Preferably one who came bearing roses.
Thad Winchester just didn’t fit the bill.
****
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jillie whispered moments later.
“Yeah.”
Momentarily, Kim lost her sense of fear. It was quite a beautiful picture laid out before them. Below was the valley they’d left an hour earlier. Varying hues of green and shades of brown mingled with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. The baby-blue afternoon sky perfectly framed the picture from above; the mountains climbed majestically on either side. She couldn’t deny it was a breathtaking sight. It was definitely different from the Kentucky Bluegrass she’d grown up with, which had a beauty all its own. She was almost glad they’d come.
“But I still can’t believe you talked me into this. If I get out of here alive, you owe me big time.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll buy you dinner.” Jillie looked at Kim and smiled. Jillie’s gaze drifted off as Mack rode up to them.
“Movin’ on, ladies,” he directed, smiling broadly at Jillie.
“All right,” Jillie answered.
He winked and deftly turned his horse.” Good. Just keep in line as Thad leads us down the mountain.” He glanced at Kim. “Remember, lean back in your saddle, ma’am, and let Rosie do the work.” He turned his horse and headed toward the middle of the string.
Kim threw him a sarcastic smile, then turned a glare on Jillie. “Did you freakin’ hear that? He just ma’amed me! I’ve never been called ma’am in my life, except by my students. And I bet I’m not even as old as he is.”
Jillie giggled.” Relax, Kim. Out here I think every woman over twelve is a ma’am. Has nothing to do with age.” She glanced ahead. “There they go. I’ll get in front, you follow me.”
Kim’s gaze drifted to Cowboy Thad preparing to lead them down the mountain. There was one thing she could say about him, he was definitely all cowboy with that long-legged, thin-hipped, lean, mean cowboy look. She wondered why Jillie hadn’t gone after him. He seemed authentic enough. A chill settled over her though as she remembered him glaring when she’d nearly fallen off her horse back at the corral. He was the only one who hadn’t laughed, and had looked more disgusted, than anything.
The man needs to get a grip.
The second Rosie’s head lowered to the grass, Kim jerked her attention back to the trail ride. Jillie and her horse were headed over the knob—the others already gone before her. Rosie started to chomp. A tremor of fear rippled through Kim’s abdomen. Thad Winchester was forgotten.
Not supposed to let the horse eat.
Panicking, Kim jerked on the reins. The horse didn’t budge. “Damn. Damn-damn-damn Rosie. Don’t get hungry on me now.”
Jillie’s head disappeared over the mountainside.
Rosie still chomped.
Kim froze.
“Shit!”
After a moment, she sucked in a breath of courage and pulled on the reins. Hard. Rosie strained against her hands and pulled more grass into her mouth.
“C’mon, honey,” Kim sweet-talked. “We’ve got to get going, sugar. We don’t wanna get lost up here.”
When her cooing didn’t help, she gave one more solid jerk on the reins and Rosie’s head came up. Kim pressed her knees slightly into the horse’s sides, and pulled the reins harder. Rosie started moving—but in reverse!
Panicking at the horse’s faulty back-stepping up the mountain, Kim let her hands fall to the saddle horn, just to get a tighter grip. The sudden stopping of the horse’s backward movement jarred her for just a second, until the horse moved again—forward, and with a mite more speed than Kim wanted—searching for a tail to put her nose into. The panoramic view of the valley below, that she had so leisurely perused moments earlier, now whisked by in a blur as Rosie took off like a shot and galloped over the hill.
“Oh, freakin’ hell!”
She knew she was in trouble. Then she didn’t have time to think about it.
“Ro-sie...slow...down!”
Her brain whirred.
Pull on the reins! Pull! Pull on them!
The words banged around inside her skull as she flew down the RockyMountain terrain at what seemed the speed of light.
Pull on the stupid reins? Where in the hell are they?
As a stand of trees flew by, she risked a glance to her hands wound tight around the saddle horn, the reins woven through her fingers, her ten perfectly manicured fingernails digging into her palms. Painfully. She couldn’t move. Rosie descended at a pretty fast clip.
Everything around her seemed contradictory, like silent slow motion and fast-forward, all at the same time. By now everyone in the string of horses in front of her had stopped at the sound of her screams. Someone raced up the mountain toward her, shouting. She couldn’t tell who, or what. She didn’t give a damn. All she knew how to do was hold on for dear life and pray she made it to the end of the string. Intact. She felt like flopping fish holding onto a bucking bronco—and knew it wasn’t pretty.
And when this thing was through, she was going to kill Jillie Abernathy for bringing her to this godforsaken Colorado backwoods. Even if she was her best friend.
Kim fought back a funny clutching at her throat. Huffing out one thick breath after another, she suddenly felt dizzy...and a little nauseous. She wasn’t going to make it.
“Lean back in your saddle!” someone shouted. “And hold on!”
Only—a—few—more—feet.
Good old Rosie…she headed straight for Muffin’s tail. Abruptly, the horse met her mark.
Unfortunately, Kim didn’t.
In a blur, she rolled over the horse’s neck and landed in an unflattering position on her fanny at Rosie’s front hooves with a “Humph!”
Hooves?
Or were they...boots?
Dazed, Kim shook her head, then looked again.
Boots. Definitely boots.
The toes
of a pair of dirty brown boots were the first thing she saw after the dust clouds subsided and she’d rid her brain of the haze and fuzz. Or most of it, anyway.
Faded denims, slightly raveled and worn at the hem, fit tight over the dusty boots. Her gaze traveling upward found the Wrangler’s stretched over firm, muscular thighs. A braided leather belt with a dull silver and turquoise buckle wove through the waistband of his jeans. He wore a denim western-cut shirt with pearl snaps. His hands were balled into fists and parked on either hip. The cuffs of his shirt were rolled back to reveal wisps of dark hair on tanned skin.
She gulped. A strange, sinking sensation yanked at the pit of her stomach.
Squinting, she brought her hand up to shield her eyes, and searched for his face. The sun glared behind him, reflecting off the clear blue of the afternoon, so all she saw was a dark shadow framed by a black cowboy hat.
And all she heard was the deep resonance of his voice as it bounced across mountain and valley.
“What in the hell did you do to my horse!”
His horse? What did your precious horse do to me?
Kim jumped to her feet.
The last coherent thought she had then, before the bright lights sparked and the blackness claimed her, was that Cowboy Thad seemed a mite upset.
****
Thad Winchester knew, as soon as he’d set eyes on the pert blonde trying to get a foot-hold up on old Rosie, that this was going to be a long afternoon. He knew it because he and Mack had seen it all before. It was the reason why he was about to insist that they concentrate only on pack trips from now on. Then they could specify that experienced riders only were allowed on the trips.
Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the cute little vacationers who thought it was such a hoot to ogle the cowboys and play Annie Oakley for the afternoon.
He knew he shouldn’t be that way. When Mack had suggested they open up the ranch for trail rides and pack trips, at first Thad had balked at the idea. He was a rancher, pure and simple. His father had never resorted to other means to make a living, why should he? But times had changed and today, a rancher had to do what a rancher had to do to keep the wolf from the door. And since cattle prices were down and the Durango area pulled in a lot of tourist trade these days, well, he’d finally researched the idea and had found that with a little elbow grease and some planning, they might be able to develop a lucrative business on the side.