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Taming the Cowboy (Family Ties Book 3)




  Taming the Cowboy

  Carolyne Aarsen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Reader Group

  Family Ties

  Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek

  The Holmes Crossing Series

  Chapter 1

  “Race you to your ranch,” Trent called out, flashing Elliot a grin, his horse prancing in a circle, obviously as eager to go as his owner was.

  Elliot shook his head, holding his horse back, thinking of the terrain they had to cross yet to get home. “Kane would shoot me if I showed up with a broken leg just before his wedding.”

  “Some saddle bronc rider you are, Elliot.” Trent laughed, pushing his hat tighter down on his head as if in preparation for the race he hoped to run. “Afraid of some buck brush and a wooden bridge?”

  Elliot held his friend’s challenging look, still holding his horse back. Sancho was picking up on Trent’s eagerness to get going, and Elliot was struggling to hold him in.

  The sun was shining and a light summer breeze whispered through the trees edging the river below them. A perfect day for a ride, which was why he was out here. When Elliot woke up this morning the cabin he was staying in with Mason, his future brother-in-law, was empty, as was the main ranch house.

  His brother Kane had left a note telling him that he and their father hoped to be back by noon, and if he was up before that, could he at least clean up after himself. Kane’s fiancée was expecting company later on today.

  The note put Elliot’s hackles up. Though Kane said frequently that their relationship was okay, that he had forgiven Elliot for keeping himself apart from the family so long, Kane clearly didn’t think his little brother was responsible. So Elliot skipped breakfast thereby skipping making a mess, got his horse saddled, and headed to Trent’s place to go riding. Trent had a couple of days off and was happy to head out with him.

  They were on their way back and had taken a shortcut, which led to the ranch.

  Now they had to cross the river, and Trent wanted to race.

  “I’m not afraid, just trying to be responsible.” Elliot put heavy emphasis on the last word, struggling with the feeling that his brother and father still didn’t seem to think he was.

  Trouble was, more often than not he agreed with them.

  “And as a cop, I’m surprised you’re not more responsible yourself,” Elliot added.

  “I’m not on the clock,” Trent returned with a grin. “I get to be reckless. When I’m back in uniform, I’ll be all citizen of the year again. So you can stay behind and be responsible or you can show me if you still got it, Meacher.”

  Before Elliot could correct him, tell him he didn’t go by his birth name anymore, Trent turned his prancing horse around, gave it a nudge in the ribs, and, with a spray of dirt, he was off. Elliot held his horse back a moment, watching his friend, then gave in to the challenge and let his own horse go.

  The wind flying past his face, the thundering hooves, combined to create an exhilaration he hadn’t felt in some time. A freedom he had missed.

  Trent rounded a corner, but Elliot pulled his horse back and made a split second decision to take a shortcut. Plunging through the brush, he avoided slapping willow bushes, his horse gamely charging ahead down the bank and into the river, water spraying up behind his horse’s hooves. Elliot glanced sidelong to see where Trent was, then heard an ear-piercing scream.

  He yanked his attention back to the water in time to see a woman closer to the opposite bank perched precariously on a rock a third of the way into the river. He glimpsed dark blonde hair pulled up into a tight bun, brown eyes wide with shock, a suit jacket, and a narrow skirt and bare feet.

  And he was a headed right for her.

  Elliot pulled hard on the reins, hoping Sancho wouldn't slip on the rocks or ram into the woman, who was now splashing through the water, trying to get to the bank, tottering, struggling to catch her balance.

  Sancho pulled back, ears up, eyes wide, and slammed to a halt, his feet scrabbling on the river rocks, trying to find his footing. Elliot held his seat against the sudden stop, giving his horse enough leeway to get his feet under him and still hold him back.

  And then the woman, still trying to get away, took a wrong step and fell into the river, face first.

  Elliot got his horse calmed and quickly dismounted, wading through the water to get to her. She was pushing herself up in the shallow water as he approached, water streaming down her face. She tried to get to her feet, but the slippery rocks prevented her getting a decent foothold.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, holding his hand out to her as she struggled to stand. “I didn’t see you.”

  She glared at him, ignoring his outstretched hand. “You weren’t even on the trail. What were you doing crashing through the bushes?”

  “I was taking a shortcut,” he said with a shrug and a grin. Up close she was prettier than his initial glimpse of her had shown him, despite being soaking wet, water dripping down her face, which made her mascara run. Thick, spiky lashes fringed her brown eyes, and he caught a faint sprinkling of freckles over her nose and cheeks. The suit jacket and skirt set off her trim figure.

  “You didn’t need to come charging through here,” she snapped.

  For a moment Elliot was tempted to tell her he had more right to go charging on his horse wherever he pleased than she did to get upset about said charging.

  Then her eyes widened, and she spun around, her head shifting from side to side. “Where is it?” she called out, panicked.

  “Where’s what?”

  “My camera.” She flailed around in the water, now on her hands and knees. “I lost my camera.”

  Elliot flashed on a vague memory of her crouched down holding something in her hand before she made a dash for the riverbank.

  He searched with her, and then he saw it. A large, black, wavering blob, lying on the riverbed. He bent over and fished it out just as she grabbed it from him.

  “I hope it’s okay,” was all he could say.

  She turned it over in her hand, the distress on her face clearly showing him it wasn’t.

  “All my pictures,” she wailed, brushing ineffectually at the water dripping off the camera. “Ruined. No thanks to you.”

  “Look, I was just out for a ride,” he said. “You were the one wading through a creek on someone else’s property,” he couldn’t resist adding.

  Despite the humor of the situation her anger created a responding anger in him. She had no right to accuse him of ruining her camera.

  She shot him a glare. “The fence was down. I didn’t think anyone would care.”

  They wouldn’t, but she was still trespassing. Not that he was pushing that point. He didn’t care either. Technically, it was his brother and father’s land. He was just visiting and following through on a promise to help his brother Kane with his wedding while waiting out an injury.

  And once his arm healed up completely, he’d be gone again. The rodeo was calling, and this year was his year.

  But for now he was faced with a sopping wet woman. And despite her anger, Zach, his foster father, had taught him to always be polite and considerate, even to trespassers wearing clothes more suited to corporate Calgary than rural Rockyview.

  “Do you
need a ride to town or wherever you’re staying?” he asked.

  She looked up at him and shook her head. Then her gaze darted past him. And once again she was scrambling awkwardly backwards, eyes wide, mouth open as if to scream again.

  What was wrong with her now?

  “Your horse. Get him away.” The way she was flailing to maintain her footing while moving away from him would have been comical if not for the terror in her voice.

  He frowned, glancing back at Sancho, who had finally joined them, nudging Elliot with his head, looking for attention.

  The angry woman was at the riverbank, grabbing at roots with one hand, her camera dangling from the other. She clawed her way up the dirt, falling a couple of times, her narrow skirt hindering her, then shot another panicked glance over her shoulder.

  “Stay away,” she called out. “Just stay away.”

  Elliot could only stare at her, unable to process the idea that anyone could be afraid of Sancho.

  “He’s okay. He won’t do anything," he said, catching the reins in his hand and walking toward her.

  “Just stay away,” she called out, making it to the top of the bank. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

  As far as Elliot was concerned he hadn’t done anything more than go for a ride on his own land.

  “But you’re all wet. Let me help you out.”

  “I’m not made of salt. I’ll survive.”

  “What’s your name? Where are you staying?”

  “None of your business,” she called back.

  “I could pay for the camera,” he said.

  But all he got in return was a dismissive wave of her hand over her shoulder as she stumbled through the tangle of willows and brush on the edge of the river.

  He wanted to follow to make sure she was okay. She might not be made of salt, but if she had arrived here by car, it was a hike to get to the road and, even though it was summer, she could easily be chilled by the time she got there. Besides, he didn’t know how she would navigate the field in bare feet. He hoped she had her shoes somewhere close.

  Then Sancho whinnied and Elliot turned to see Trent splashing down the river toward him.

  “Hey man, what’s up? I heard a scream. Thought something happened to you,” Trent called out as he approached.

  “Not me. I took a shortcut and scared some girl taking pictures. She was standing in the river. In a skirt of all things.”

  “What was she doing here? You know her?”

  “Don’t have a clue. Never seen her before in my life.”

  “Was she cute?”

  He would say more pretty than cute. But he shrugged. It didn’t matter. He doubted he would see her again.

  “So, we going back to my place?” Trent asked.

  Elliot looked back at the spot on the bank where the mystery woman had clambered up. Then he shook his head. “You go on home. I got something I need to do.” Though the woman didn’t want his help, he was still concerned about her. He wanted to make sure she got safely to wherever it was she was headed.

  “I can help,” Trent said.

  “I doubt it.” Elliot glanced over at his friend’s horse that was even larger than his and thought of the woman’s terror at the sight of Sancho, one of the quietest horses on Tall Timber Ranch. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Suit yourself. Whatever.” Trent paused a moment as if to give Elliot a chance to change his mind. Then, with a wave, he turned his horse and headed back to the opening in the trees further down the river.

  Elliot waited until he was gone, then led his horse to the bank, water squishing inside his boots.

  He was tempted to pull his boots off, hating the feel of wet socks, but he knew it would be impossible to remove them now. So he got on his horse and followed the disturbed willows, checking for the mystery woman’s footprints in the dirt.

  He kept his distance, remembering her panic, hoping she hadn’t hurt herself.

  Were those hoofbeats behind her?

  Kinsley stopped, shivering as she stood in the shade of a large aspen tree, water still dripping down her face. She shot a panicked glance over her shoulder. Her heart was still pounding from her encounter with the crazy cowboy and his horse.

  But it didn’t sound like he was following.

  She retrieved her shoes and slipped them on, thankful she hadn’t tried to wear them in the creek. The heels would have given her even more trouble.

  A gust of wind created another shiver, and she thrashed through the rest of the willow trees and out into the open field and the blessed warmth of the sun.

  She paused a moment, rubbing her arms that were rough with goose bumps. As she did, her camera bumped her arm.

  With a sigh of dismay she slid it off her shoulder and looked it over again. The guy who sold her the camera assured her it could withstand water, but she was sure he meant from rain and not from getting doused in a rushing river.

  And she’d had such gorgeous shots of the sun filtering through the trees, sparkling off the water and splashing over the large, rough rocks. She tried to turn it on, but nothing. Hopefully the SD card would be okay. Hopefully. She had a months’ worth of pictures on it she hadn’t saved onto her computer yet.

  Dumb cowboy, scaring her like that.

  She fought down a shiver of fear at the memory of his horse coming so close to her. She’d thought she was over that fear by now.

  But she could still feel the terror clawing up her throat when that cowboy came toward her leading that huge, lumbering beast. Those huge nostrils and those buggy eyes…

  She shivered again, memories and fears slithering into her mind. It didn’t help that her hip was aching now, a reminder of that horrible day.

  The fact that this good-looking cowboy had mesmerizing eyes and casual hair that framed a masculine and attractive face didn't help her confusion. She didn’t like how he made her heart beat a little faster.

  Didn’t like how he got to see her all awkward and stumbling. Of course, if she had thought things through and put on some running shoes, she might have been sturdier on her feet.

  The muffled sound of footsteps behind her made her spin around, her eyes flicking over the moving branches of the willows. Did that guy and his horse follow her? She took a few quick steps backward, almost stumbling in the thick grass of the field.

  Her cheeks flamed at the memory of floundering in the river, first getting balance then getting her camera. The cowboy must have thought she was a complete fool.

  Another sound behind her sent her heart into overdrive. Was that a horse snort? But she saw nothing.

  Relax, she told herself. Why would he follow you?

  Because you were trespassing?

  She couldn’t imagine that being here would cause any problems. There were no cows in the field, and there had been a huge gap in the fence she walked through. It had been a hot long drive, and she wanted a break. When she crossed over the river and followed it for a few miles, she knew she wanted to stop.

  It was only supposed to be a moment to enjoy the outdoors. Then she saw a bird on a branch and pulled her camera out to take a picture. The sound of the river lured her on through the field. Once she got to the river and saw the sun and the play of its rays through the leaves on the water she needed to capture the shot, and the best way was to go right into the river. The rocks looked flat and safe and the water was shallow. So she took her heels off and went barefoot. It was a good idea.

  Until that cowboy came crashing through the underbrush scaring the living daylights out of her, potentially ruining her camera, and making her even more embarrassed. She wasn’t sure which emotion made her feel the worst.

  She took another look at her camera, wanting to take it apart and see if anything was damaged, but she told herself to leave it alone. When she got to the ranch she could look it over more carefully.

  The sun had warmed the inside of her vehicle, and the heat that had been oppressive half an hour ago was now welcome. She set her camera on t
he seat beside her then rubbed her chilled hands together. She would be glad to get out of these wet clothes. So much for making that good first impression she always prided herself on.

  Even though Faith was her friend, Kinsley was determined to treat this wedding with the same thoroughness and attention to detail she did with all the previous weddings she had planned.

  And now she would show up at the ranch looking like she had lost a water fight.

  As she started her car she shot another sidelong glance to the willows, just as the cowboy she had run into came walking out of the bush leading his horse. She’d been right. He had been following her. But why?

  Her instinct was to turn the car on and take off, but the cowboy stopped on the edge of the field, watching her.

  She wasn't getting out of the car and approaching him to find out what he wanted. Not while he was still leading that beast. So she started her car and without a backward glance drove away.

  She turned the fan down, and when she was around the first corner, she pulled to the side of the road to check the map on her phone again.

  Though she and Faith had been friends through college, she had never come with her to her home in Rockyview. Kinsley never had much time off. Her reality was she needed every spare moment for either studying or for working to pay for said studying and, of course, the physiotherapy sessions.

  Though they drifted apart they kept in touch via Facebook and Instagram. There were a few years, after Faith and Kane broke up, that Faith drifted away, but in the past year she and Kinsley had reconnected.

  When Faith found out Kinsley had worked for several years as a wedding planner she contacted her via Facebook. This was a perfect opportunity. Though Kinsley no longer worked for the company she had been at for eight years, she was hoping to partner up with another company. A very prestigious company. When she told Jill, her potential employer about the wedding, Jill had encouraged her to go solo. This would give Kinsley a chance to show Jill what she could do. So this wedding was essentially a job interview and trial run mixed into one.