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STONE COLD COWBOY
Montana Men #4
Jennifer Ryan
Releasing February 23rd, 2016
Avon Books
Sadie is trying to hold onto her family, and her life. With an ill father who’s refusing treatment and a younger brother who has fallen in with a dangerous crowd, she’s beginning to feel like she can’t save anyone, least of all herself. When her brother owes money to the wrong people, Sadie tries to pay off his debts, but she doesn’t have the cash. The one person who might be able to help her out is the last person she wants to involve in her family drama, but Rory won’t take no for an answer.
Rory is all about family, but sometimes you’ve got to let go. If you can’t save them, save yourself. Sadie’s been dealt a bad hand she refuses to fold. Because he loves her, he’ll do anything to keep her safe and give her the happy life she deserves, even betray her trust to take down her brother.
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Sadie
crested the rolling hill and spotted her target: her missing horses
and a herd of cattle that didn’t belong to her reckless brother.
She didn’t waste a hope he was saving them from some predator. Not
with two of his miscreant cohorts right beside him pushing the mooing
and bawling animals farther along the valley. Leave it to her brother
to make trouble with no regard for the consequences. If he got caught
rustling cattle, he’d expect her to get him out of it. She’d been
saving his butt since he hit a rebellious stage at thirteen that
turned into his way of life, escalating from pranks to petty theft
and drug dealing. What happened to the sweet boy who loved to swing
the highest at the play- ground? The one who cried at their mother’s
funeral and brushed his hand over Sadie’s hair that same night
while they cried themselves to sleep on their mother’s side of the
bed? At twenty-one Connor had changed from a sensitive boy into
nothing short of a hoodlum numbed by drugs, with no regard for anyone
else. One day she feared he’d end up in jail for the rest of his
life . . . or dead.
If whoever owned those cattle didn’t
kill him, she might.
A soft pat on the neck and a nudge
with her heels sent her horse Sugar down the hill in a trot. Sadie
loved to ride, but chasing after her brother took the pleasure right
out it. The cold wind, scented with pine, grass, and rain from the
storm last night that had left the ground muddy, whipped her hair out
behind her and burned her cheeks. Her lips dried and cracked in the
bitter cold.
Her horse’s fast approach startled
several cattle. They broke off from the herd and scattered. She rode
straight up the middle and split the herd in two, hoping to
discourage the animals from following the rider up front and the two
flanking them. Her brother spot- ted her and reined his horse around
to meet hers. She pulled up short and stopped beside him, glaring at
his ruddy face, red from the cold. His intense gaze collided with
hers. His pupils were the size of saucers. High. Irritated he’d
been caught, he narrowed his eyes on her.
“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?”
Her lips drew into a grim line.
“Saving your ass from making another mistake.”
“Get out of here before you get
hurt.” Connor scanned the area, avoiding looking at the two guys
with him, who closed in on them. “You have to go now.”
Sadie sighed out her frustration.
The cows had stopped walking down the valley and milled around them,
chomping at the new grass just beginning to grow after the last of
the snow melted. The cold temps remained even as spring pushed in to
take winter’s place. She stared at the poor, tired animals. Her
brother and his buddies had pushed them hard and brought them a long
way. One steer turned, and she caught a glimpse of the brand on his
hide.
She sucked in a surprised breath.
“These are Ken- drick cattle. Are you crazy? Those guys will hunt
you down and beat the living shit out of you. If Rory comes after
you, you’ll wish you were never born.”
She’d gone to school with Colt
Kendrick, but didn’t really know him. The last time she saw him,
he’d been sitting around a table with his two older brothers at the
bar. She’d gone to drag her brother home after the bar- tender
called to let her know Connor was playing pool and looking for a
fight. He’d nearly gotten one when he stumbled into Colt and dumped
beer down his front. Sadie stepped in just in time, blocking her
brother from the punch Colt threw and almost landed straight in her
face, until Rory grasped his brother’s wrist and stopped his swing
inches from her nose. When her brother tried to go after Colt, she’d
tried to hold him off, but he got around her. Rory grabbed Connor by
the shirt and held him off the ground in front of him like he didn’t
weigh more than a puppy. He’d looked her brother in the eyes and
shook him hard to get his attention. He didn’t speak. Didn’t have
to. The ominous look in his eyes made her brother quake in his boots.
Rory set her brother down with a thud, and Connor ran for the door.
Sadie chased after him, but not before she turned back and caught the
feral look in Rory’s eyes. The same kind of look she’d seen weeks
earlier when she plowed into Rory’s big, solid body in the feed
store. The man was hard and unyielding, physically and mentally. You
did not go up against a Kendrick, and especially him. Her stupid
brother got off free and clear that time.
Connor scratched at a scab on his
chin. “If you keep your fucking mouth shut and get lost, they’ll
never know.”
“You don’t think they’re going
to know an entire herd of cattle is missing? You’ve lost your mind,
little brother.”
He puffed out his thin chest, his
bony shoulders going back. “I’m not little. I can take care of
myself,” he whined like the child he acted like most of the time.
“You have yet to prove that in any capacity. If it weren’t for
me, you’d have been locked up in juvy at fourteen. All these years
later, you’re not proving to be any smarter than that punk kid who
cried and begged me to save him. You promised me on our mother’s
grave you’d do better, you’d quit drinking and doing drugs. But
you didn’t keep that promise to me, or her.” “I warned you.”
The words belied the sad, resigned look that came into his eyes.
A split second later, she had the
blink of an eye to understand what he meant. A fist slammed into her
face, sending her off her horse and into the mud, grass, and
darkness.
Jennifer lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she isn’t writing a book, she’s reading one. Her obsession with both is often revealed in the state of her home and in how late dinner is to the table. When she finally leaves those fictional worlds, you’ll find her in the garden, playing in the dirt and daydreaming about people who live only in her head, until she puts them on paper.
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