Tempting the cowboys sis.., p.1
Tempting the Cowboy's Sister, page 1
part #1 of Rowdy Ranch Series
Tempting the Cowboy’s Sister
Rowdy Ranch
Vicki Lewis Thompson
TEMPTING THE COWBOY’S SISTER
Copyright © 2023 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
ISBN: 978-1-63803-936-5
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737
Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson
About the Author
Chapter One
Dallas Armstrong had found his place in life. His job as a firefighter for Wagon Train Fire and Rescue suited him right down to the ground. The dedication of the crew, the camaraderie at the station and the appreciation of the townspeople hit all the right notes. Chief Denny Portman was a natural leader.
His shift at the firehouse ended at eight in the morning. He was usually tuckered out by the time he drove back to Rowdy Ranch and this May morning was no exception.
But it was a good kind of tired. Working side-by-side with folks he liked and respected was rewarding. That said, he looked forward to four days off so he could putter around his log cabin.
Technically it wasn’t his cabin. Yet. He’d rented it a year ago from fellow firefighter, Cheyenne McLintock. Cheyenne likely wouldn’t ever live in it again now that he’d settled into wedded bliss at Kendall’s place on a small neighboring spread. Eventually Dallas would have enough put by to make an offer.
He'd be closer to that goal if he hadn’t bought a horse. But Angie, Cheyenne’s younger sister, had insisted a cowboy needed a horse. Soon after her birthday in February, she’d dragged him to a neighboring ranch to see the one she’d found for him. He’d fallen in love with the dappled gray.
Angie had piled on reasons to take the gelding home — the bargain price with saddle included, free boarding in the McLintock’s barn, brothers who would give him the family rate for shoeing and vet fees, plus he’d get discounts on hay and grain because the ranch bought in bulk.
But he wasn’t stupid. It would add up and cut into the savings plan he hadn’t told anyone about. Then Angie had proposed changing the horse’s name from Spotty, which they both detested, to Smoky, perfect for a firefighter’s horse.
Resistance had been futile, especially when Angie had given him the luminous blue-eyed gaze that melted his heart and warmed up the rest of him pretty good, too.
That was another fact he couldn’t reveal to anyone, least of all Angie. He was crazy about her. Who wouldn’t be, especially after a year of getting to know her?
She’d taken little notice of him, though, so he’d stuffed his feelings. Then on her birthday, as if some switch had been flicked, she’d treated him like the best thing since sliced pumpernickel. A couple of days later she’d talked him into buying a horse and suggested they could go riding together.
Her about-face had made him happy but cautious. Good thing, because he’d no sooner moved Smoky into the barn than Cheyenne had paid him a visit.
According to Cheyenne, Angie’s previous romances had been short-lived and superficial. Could be because she was young, only twenty-five. He’d mentioned it several times.
Message received. Evidently it didn’t matter that Kendall had been the same age when their romance bloomed. Cheyenne and his brothers weren’t keen on a thirty-two-year-old man becoming involved with their twenty-five-year-old sister. For her sake and his. No one was telling him what to do, but….
He'd backed off. When she’d questioned him about it, his carefully rehearsed speech hadn’t gone well. Calling him a condescending jerk had been the mildest of the insults she’d hurled at him.
Now they barely spoke to each other. That was for the best, since no matter how many names she called him and how unwise a relationship would be, he still yearned for her.
Pulling into a parking area marked off with railroad ties, he grabbed his duffle from the passenger seat and put on the Stetson he’d taken to wearing whenever he was off duty.
The refreshing scent of the ginormous twin pines on either side of the flagstone walkway filled the truck’s cab the minute he opened the door. Sunlight sparkled on the droplets clinging to the dark green needles. Must have rained here overnight. Hadn’t noticed it at the station.
He took his time going up the walk, savoring the pleasure of coming back to his little piece of heaven. He wouldn’t choose to live anywhere else.
As a city kid growing up in New Jersey, he’d played with an old set of Lincoln Logs and dreamed of having a cabin like this. He’d jumped at the chance to move in last spring. His favorite season had come around again and he planned to enjoy the hell out of it.
A week ago he’d hung up the porch swing and set out the table and chairs. Maybe he’d brew some coffee, grab a couple of sugar cookies from the batch Kendall had given him, relax on the swing, and watch the light change on the snow-capped Sapphires.
The fragrance of cedar firewood greeted him when he opened the door. Sunshine poured through the windows, bathing the floor-to-ceiling, multi-colored rock wall framing the fireplace. Home.
Closing the front door, he took his duffle to his bedroom and headed for the kitchen to start the coffee. He grabbed the glass carafe, crossed to the sink and stepped on the mat in front of it. The mat squished.
He glanced down. Water oozed up around the sole of his boot. Shoving the carafe onto the counter, he eased away from the mat and crouched in front of the wood cabinets that lined the wall.
His gut tightened. A water stain darkened the base of the cabinets on either side of the sink. The honey-colored wood had turned the shade of walnut. When he picked up the dripping mat, he was sick to his stomach. The wide-plank hardwood floor underneath had swollen and buckled.
Which meant the water had been sitting there a while. Anxiety tightened his throat. Could the damage be fixed? Maybe, but matching the wood of the floorboards and the cabinets would be damned near impossible.
Replacing the mat, he rose to his feet and took a five-gallon bucket from the broom closet. The mat, rolled into a soggy cylinder, barely fit, but it was all he had.
He set it aside and hurried down the hall to snag all the towels from his bathroom. Had rain leaked in? Doubtful. Could be a pipe under the sink.
The kitchen wasn’t flooded, so it had to be a small leak that had been dripping for at least a couple of days. Or more? Had he checked under the sink before he left for work three days ago?
No. Then again, it wasn’t like anyone would expect that kind of hypervigilance. He needed to give himself a break. This wasn’t his fault.
Easy to say, but as he mopped up the worst of the puddle, his jaw clenched and a headache dug into the back of his skull. Cheyenne might not expect to live in this cabin again, but he’d lovingly supervised the construction. He’d put in sweat equity in addition to all his savings.
When the towels had absorbed most of the water, Dallas opened the cupboard doors under the sink and peered inside. Completely dry.
The leak continued, though. Fingers of water slid out from the narrow space between the refrigerator and the cabinets. He held his breath and listened.
Drip, drip, drip.
Pushing a towel into the opening to stop the flow, he stood and used the flashlight on his phone. There it was. The water line to the fridge had ruptured.
He’d been so tickled with this fancy refrigerator Cheyenne had. Now it had turned on him.
After he’d shut down the water supply to the fridge, he called Cheyenne. His buddy had left the station this morning in high spirits, headed for Miller’s Hardware. He and Kendall had planned to use his time off to paint the baby’s room.
Dallas was about to ruin his day.
Chapter Two
Starting her own business had been Angie McLintock’s most brilliant idea to date. Hiring Kendall as her assistant had been her second most brilliant move. Wagon Train Handywomen operated on a flexible schedule, so when Kendall needed a day off to help Cheyenne paint the baby’s room, Angie took a short vacation, too.
Since the rain had passed and the sun was out, she hopped in her truck for th e short drive to her mom’s. Buttermilk could use some exercise. She’d offered to help Kendall and Cheyenne paint, but three painters would be a crowd in such a small space.
At least, that was the reason Kendall had given, although clearly she was looking forward to spending time alone with Cheyenne. Angie understood that. She envied Kendall a little, to be honest.
If only her February gameplan had worked out, she and Buttermilk would be taking a ride with Dallas and Smoky on this beautiful morning. Uh-oh. He had the day off, too, didn’t he? Kendall and Cheyenne’s painting project must have sidetracked her from noting that detail.
What if he’d decided to take a ride, too? They hadn’t run into each other at the barn yet because she’d learned his schedule and took her rides when he was on duty. Evidently her brain had stopped working today.
She could scrub her plan, except she’d called her mom to let her know she was coming over. She’d even mentioned she was eager to take Buttermilk out. If she abruptly cancelled, her mother might think something was wrong.
She took her foot off the gas. The location of her cabin gave her no reason to pass Dallas’s place on the way over to her mom’s. But in the past three months she’d perfected the art of driving in his direction just far enough to get a glimpse of his truck and then quickly doubling back.
Should she flip a U-turn and go check to see if he was there or not? He probably was. He’d want to sit and relax on his first day off. On the porch swing, idiot. From that vantage point he’d hear her truck. She’d have to drive on by, which would screw up going to her mom’s.
Okay, he had to pass her place to get to the barn and she hadn’t heard anyone drive by. She could have been in the shower, though. It would be just her luck to find that dark blue truck sitting there when she arrived. What a pain in the butt.
To think she’d been over the moon when he’d rented Cheyenne’s cabin. Now she wanted him gone — from the ranch, the town, the state, the country. And the planet? Sure.
Because he still made her heart race, the rat. He’d stunned her speechless the night he’d stepped onto the bandstand during the fire department’s bachelor auction fundraiser. Her one and only ogle was seared into her retina.
Nothing had interrupted her view of his broad chest except the suspenders holding up his turnouts. A year later, she could still close her eyes and play that video—arresting brown gaze, tempting half-smile, impressive pecs, a smattering of dark chest hair, beautifully defined abs… and the hint of a generous package under his turnouts.
That night she’d successfully hidden her reaction from her tablemates — her mom and Kendall. If either of them had noticed, they would have commented. They hadn’t. She’d vowed to tell no one.
Then Fate, or rather Cheyenne and Kendall’s romance, had landed Dallas practically at her backdoor. And he’d been interested in her, damn it. She knew that look. But she’d played it safe and pretended indifference.
Guaranteed her overprotective brothers would have kicked up a fuss when she was only twenty-four. Dallas had turned thirty-two in October. Biding her time until her birthday had allowed her to covertly observe his behavior. Since she’d given him no encouragement, he’d stopped trying to impress her.
Being ignored by a guy who’d previously shown interest was a novelty that increased his appeal. His strength of character was sexy. He was funny, too.
She’d eagerly awaited her twenty-fifth birthday. Her brothers couldn’t object at that point. Kendall had been twenty-five when she and Cheyenne had fallen in love. Cheyenne had been going on thirty-one. Their age gap was almost identical to the one between her and Dallas.
Turned out her brothers weren’t the problem. Dallas was. Evidently the birthday party had reminded him of how young she was. He was looking for someone closer to his age. Blech. What a loser.
She let out a breath. Sitting here in the middle of the road wasn’t smart. Even if he wasn’t at the barn, he could come along any time. So could one of her other family members. Might as well drive to the barn and find out whether—
Her phone chimed. Kendall’s ring. She picked up the phone, let up on the brake and pressed gently on the accelerator. “Hey, there. Need help with that painting gig, after all?”
“The painting’s on hold.”
“On hold?” She put on the brakes. “But—”
“Cheyenne and I are at his cabin. Dallas came home to find a big puddle in front of the kitchen sink that’s been there for days. The floor’s—”
“Oh, no.” Her stomach cramped. “What—”
“Water line to the fridge.”
“Damn it! How long did it—”
“Don’t know. Got the base of the cabinets, too.”
“Those gorgeous cabinets! And the floor. Cheyenne must be—”
“Are you in the middle of something? I didn’t even think to—”
“I’m in the middle of the road. I was going over to Mom’s to take Buttermilk out. Did you call Sylvia?”
“She’s been and gone. Took plenty of pictures. Insurance will cover most of it, but Cheyenne’s worried it’ll never be the same. You’re the only one he—”
“I’ll be right over.” It was the thing to do even if she dreaded interacting with Dallas. “Ask him to call Mom so she knows why I won’t be arriving.”
“I will. Thanks, Angie.”
“See you in a few.” She disconnected, swerved to the side of the road and made a U-turn. Her heart ached for Cheyenne. He loved that cabin even if he no longer lived there.
She’d like to pin the blame on Dallas but the ruptured line was just a stroke of bad luck.
There would be a deductible, but since Cheyenne would want her and Kendall to do the work, they’d drop their labor costs by the amount of the… uh-oh.
In the heat of the moment, she’d missed the implications of taking on this job. Helping out her darling brother came with a big ol’ asterisk —steady contact with effing Dallas Armstrong.
Good thing Kendall was her sidekick. That would keep her on the straight and narrow. Kendall was still clueless. Which was unusual for her, but then she was preggers.
Normally she would have noticed her best friend’s sudden interest in Dallas during the birthday celebration. She would have questioned the push to acquire a horse ASAP.
But her excitement over the baby had taken center stage in her life that week and was still the main item on the agenda, as it should be. When the Dallas plan had failed so spectacularly, Angie had chosen to keep quiet about it. Kendall didn’t need negative energy when she was carrying a member of the next generation of McLintocks.
Consequently, there’d be no rubber cockroach in Dallas’s cookie jar. His toothbrush wouldn’t accidentally end up in the toilet bowl. And nobody would sprinkle chili powder in his underwear. Damn it.
Chapter Three
Kendall had to go out to the truck and fetch her phone to call Angie, which gave Dallas a moment alone with Cheyenne. “I assume you’ll hire her to do the repairs.” He did his best to sound casual although his nerves twanged like loose guitar strings.
“Unless she can’t for some reason. I trust her to do it right. She’ll treat my place like it was her own.”
“But she’ll have to be here a lot, and—”
“No worries. Kendall will be working with her.”
“Oh.” If he’d imagined lending a hand and possibly mending their fractured relationship so they were talking again, that wouldn’t be happening. “Forgot about that.”
“I didn’t. That’s why I knew it would be okay.”
“Guess so.” Was that the front door opening? He dipped his head and stepped closer to Cheyenne. “Real quick — does Kendall know about—”
