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Bad Boy Rancher
Karen Rock
He's not the only one who needs saving…But maybe they can save each other?Dark, brooding, dangerous…and possibly suicidal. Renegade rancher Justin Cade was exactly the kind of man former army chaplain Brielle Thompson needed to avoid after escaping the horrors of Afghanistan with an honorable discharge—and PTSD. The whole point of moving to the remote Rocky Mountains of Colorado was to leave the darkness behind, not fall back into it. But falling she is…
He’s not the only one who needs saving...
But maybe they can save each other?
Dark, brooding, dangerous...and possibly suicidal. Renegade rancher Justin Cade was exactly the kind of man former army chaplain Brielle Thompson needed to avoid after escaping the horrors of Afghanistan with an honorable discharge—and PTSD. The whole point of moving to the remote Rocky Mountains of Colorado was to leave the darkness behind, not fall back into it. But falling she is...
Award-winning author KAREN ROCK is both sweet and spicy—at least when it comes to her writing! The author of both YA and adult contemporary books writes sexy suspense novels and small-town romances for Harlequin and Kensington Publishing. A strong believer in Happily-Ever-After, Karen loves creating unforgettable stories that leave her readers with a smile. When she’s not writing, Karen is an avid reader who also loves cooking her grandmother’s Italian recipes, baking and having the Adirondack Park wilderness as her backyard, where she lives with her husband, daughter, dog and cat, who keep her life interesting and complete. Learn more about her at karenrock.com (http://www.karenrock.com) or follow her on Twitter, @karenrock5 (https://twitter.com/karenrock5?lang=en).
Also By Karen Rock
Falling for a CowboyChristmas at Cade RanchA Cowboy to KeepUnder an Adirondack SkyHis Kind of CowgirlWinter Wedding Bells“The Kiss”Raising the StakesA League of Her OwnSomeone Like YouHis Hometown GirlWish Me Tomorrow
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Bad Boy Rancher
Karen Rock
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08495-6
BAD BOY RANCHER
© 2018 Karen Rock
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“What are you afraid of, Justin?”
That snapped his spine straight. “Nothing.”
“Then prove it. I dare you to spend the next ten weeks here, at the clinic.”
“Dare?” Was she joking? This wasn’t kid stuff... To him, it was life-and-death. And the way Brielle got under his skin, opened him up, was downright dangerous. If he accepted, he’d need to keep his distance. “I’m not going to any group talks.”
She pondered that a moment then sighed. “Fine. Go only if you want to, which I’m betting will be plenty.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
He found himself smiling. When was the last time he’d smiled for no reason? He liked Brielle’s gumption.
“So,” she pressed, looking so flushed and vibrant he wagered touching her would be like grabbing hold of an electric fence. He could feel the spark from where he sat. “Do we have a deal?”
He shoved back his chair and held out his hand. “Dare accepted.”
Dear Reader (#u0e7d92e2-277b-5e7e-9a21-240f5a960324),
Welcome back! I’ve been eager to share the next story in my Rocky Mountain Cowboys series with you. The Cade and Loveland ranching families, neighbors who’ve been feuding for over a hundred years, are full of such interesting and complicated characters. They each face, and overcome, personal challenges in unique and inspiring ways.
Since losing his twin, brooding daredevil rancher Justin Cade’s not so much searching for meaning in life as he’s challenging it, cheating death by taking extreme risks. But when life puts him on a collision course with a beautiful woman he initially mistakes for an angel, he sees he has a reason to live after all.
Former army chaplain and PTSD sufferer Brielle Thompson’s plans to start over are threatened when the rehabilitation clinic she supervises may close. She’s determined to save the facility, its patients and the tormented rancher she crosses paths with one fateful night. As she and Justin join forces to save the clinic, she discovers there’s more to him than a danger-seeking, Harley-riding cowboy. Despite his gruff exterior, he has a big heart—one that might heal her own if she dares open it to Justin and love.
Happy reading!
Karen Rock
To my sister Cathy, my “Irish Twin.” Being your sister has been such a defining part of my life and my identity. I wouldn’t be the person I am, the writer I’ve become, without you and the unbreakable bond we share.
All my love... Always.
Contents
Cover (#u4eea0e41-f3f7-52c7-9e69-f0a54c83c6b8)
Back Cover Text (#ue2aa9cf9-e6d6-5705-85cb-c8e369bf982d)
About the Author (#udc6a8fa1-8a65-5d19-8f41-c29b1003e691)
Booklist (#ua8d681ae-5a4f-53fb-8687-20a5b025ab3a)
Title Page (#u9e223617-a617-5f6f-a5ee-3010afdac3ea)
Copyright (#u423d6b4d-df25-5666-96b4-2ad154838e10)
Introduction (#u43e64f47-05cc-5439-a4df-e7dddb0b7a49)
Dear Reader (#ubfbbd0c2-1fe6-5f92-bd1e-17367d78167c)
Dedication (#uef5d6e45-c975-5fe9-87c5-65f2ef3e1782)
CHAPTER ONE (#u7f505e1d-9963-5855-8687-0359cc7928ba)
CHAPTER TWO (#uba56d6f2-fdd7-5a83-96ed-3e47ea118cdd)
CHAPTER THREE (#u370ab6d0-b342-51a7-bf57-f300a85fcc9c)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u0440e192-f23a-5c50-9024-7425c9305812)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u0e7d92e2-277b-5e7e-9a21-240f5a960324)
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JESSE.” Justin Cade raised a beer to his reflection then gulped half of the microbrew. He scrunched his face at the citrus tang, forcing down the rest.
“Bah!” He scraped his tongue with his teeth. “How’d you drink this fancy stuff? Fruit and beer? Might as well be a wine cooler.” He crumpled the can in his palm and chucked it at his bathroom’s wastebasket. “Here’s to us turning twenty-six. Or me, anyway.”
He frowned at his identical twin’s face, shrouded by Justin’s dark beard and mustache. A purple bruise from a barn brawl circled his left eye. Black stitches closed a jagged gash on his cheek caused by this week’s dirt-bike crash. Despite the camouflage, Jesse still peeped through. “You should be here, dude.”
Yellow-green eyes, surrounded by a ring of brown, blazed back at Justin. He bared his teeth, stomped from the cubicle-size space then flung himself into the single foldout chair in his cabin’s combination kitchen-living-dining area. It faced an antenna-topped TV perched on empty feed crates from his family’s cattle ranch. A crammed gun cabinet, a wobbly card table and a sagging couch comprised the rest of his furnishings.
Mismatched sheets obscured the front windows and the dark night behind them. An ancient coffeemaker moaned as it dribbled thick, black brew into a glass pot. The bitter smell mixed with the woodstove’s aromatic hickory logs, a melancholy scent that reminded him of times spent chopping stacks with his brother, each refusing to quit until their pile topped the other’s in height.
A one-eyed kitten he’d fished from a storm ditch leaped onto his lap and purred louder than a combine engine. Since he planned on dropping her by the barn, he hadn’t named the scraggly black-and-white thing. No sense keeping her. He barely cared for himself, let alone a kitten that weighed less than a tissue.
His work-rough fingers stroked the quivering fur ball, rising as her back arched and her miniature tail flicked in contentment. “Don’t get used to this,” he grumbled, scratching behind her ears. She rubbed her whiskered face against his hand and purred louder.
He flicked on the TV, peeled off the chair then sauntered to the kitchen counter. Furball wove in and out of his legs. The peppy Monday-night football announcers grated on his ears. He grabbed his ringed mug from the sink and filled it with coffee. Time to clear his head. After herding cattle this morning, he’d dropped back into bed, fallen into an uneasy sleep, then woke even more exhausted. Too bad he hadn’t slept right through.
He eyed the loaded rifle over his front door.
Sometimes he wanted to stop the world and hop off it for a while. That idea was particularly appealing today.
Steam curled from the coffee’s dark surface as he raised it to his mouth. At the last minute, his stomach churned and he chucked it, mug and all, into the sink. A satisfying crash exploded. He grabbed a six-pack and a carton of milk from the fridge, freshened Furball’s bowl, then dropped onto the couch and popped the top off a Miller.
The hell with sober. He wasn’t going anywhere. Least of all to Mount Everest, Kilimanjaro or any of the seven summits he and his twin had vowed they’d scale before turning thirty. Before Jesse’s opiate addiction. Before he wound up murdered over it.
Justin took a long drink then flopped on his back. His boots dangled over the couch’s arm. A purring Furball sprang onto his stomach and needled her claws through his worn T-shirt, pricking the skin beneath. Drawing blood, he’d bet.
Not that he cared about injury.
He welcomed it.
Jesse’s passing had muted all feeling except pain. Pain reminded Justin that he still lived. It also reminded him that he should be six feet under—not Jesse. The woodstove’s flickering light gleamed on his shotgun’s barrel.
Jesse was the better twin. He’d dreamed while Justin made trouble. The fact that death took Jesse, who’d never hurt anyone besides himself, and left a reckless, sullen cuss like Justin behind proved the universe had no plan—or if it did, it sucked.
The kitten’s delicate pink tongue appeared in a wide yawn. She closed her eyes as Justin scratched beneath her chin. His gaze traveled to Jesse’s globe, covered with color-coded pushpins. Green represented places they’d been, yellow for places they’d hoped to see and red places they’d intended on scaling. Conquering. Their chance to view the world from above, riding it astride while it spun.
Then Jesse’s addiction had snatched it all away.
Justin’s trigger finger curled.
Furball inched up his stomach and huddled against his thudding heart. He rested his chin atop her silky head. Growing up in Carbondale, Colorado, a small town smack-dab in the center of the Rocky Mountains, a place where cattle outnumbered humans ten to one, he and Jesse planned elaborate adventures while riding the old, familiar range. It’d never occurred to him that his twin would escape this place with a needle instead. Before drugs, they’d done everything together. The dynamic duo, their grandpa used to call them. Inseparable, their grandma had added. She never got their names straight—not that he or Jesse cared. They’d been a team. A unit. Two halves of a whole.
Now Justin escaped his own way, chasing thrills, the riskier the better, adrenaline his drug of choice. What did he have to lose? His life? It hadn’t amounted to much anyway. His older brothers, Jack, James and Jared, had found love and started families. His younger sister, Jewel, devoted her life to improving the ranch, and his ma had recently gotten a new lease on life with her grandchildren and a beau.
Him? His constant foul mood made him unfit company. His family would be better off without him skulking around, unable to move past Jesse’s death after three and a half years. His grief didn’t have an expiration date. Acting normal, happy, around others stressed him out. Living took effort, and sometimes, like today, he didn’t have the energy for it.
The shotgun drew his eye again.
Sooner or later, he’d even up the score and join Jesse. He’d reneged on his promise to his dying father to look after his twin. And his death would satisfy Carbondale’s rumor mill. Jewel reported that neighbors whispered about him behind raised hands as he roared down Main Street on his souped-up chopper.
“That daredevil will follow his brother to the grave and break his poor mama’s heart.”
“The boy’s like to lose his neck.”
“Got a death wish, that one.”
A wish? No. His extreme antics were a challenge. He dared death to come for him—like it had Jesse. And he experienced a grim satisfaction every time he cheated it. When he went, it’d be on his terms.
He stroked his eyes over the shotgun then leveraged himself upright.
A knock sounded. “Uncle Justin?”
