A Rancher's Honor

One Night With A Cowboy

There’s no room in day-care owner Lana Carpenter’s life for casual flings. After all, her dream of adopting a baby is closer to becoming a reality than ever. So why is she still mooning over the sexy cowboy who made her forget everything but the strong, sure feel of his arms around her?

It wasn’t supposed to be more than one unforgettable night between consenting strangers. But when Sly Pettit spots Lana’s photo in the local paper, he grabs at the chance to see her again. The guarded rancher is falling hard for Lana, but it can only end in heartbreak. Unless Sly can trust her with the secrets that keep him from believing that, just maybe, they could have a future together.

“I usually don’t spend the night with a man I just met. You were the first and the last.”

“I’m honored that you picked me. I enjoyed our time together.”

Her warm eyes flashed that Lana had, too. She had a mouth made for loving. Plump, soft lips that were naturally pink. They parted a fraction, just as they had seconds before he’d kissed her the other night.

Sly definitely wanted to see more of her and explore that heat, unleash her fiery passion and enjoy a repeat of their memorable night together. He moved closer and tucked her hair behind her ears with hands that shook.

He wanted her that much. Too much.

The strength of his need scared him. If he was smart, he’d turn around and leave. But his legs refused to budge.

Dear Reader,

This is the first book in my Prosperity, Montana miniseries. Prosperity is a fictitious town in north central Montana—gorgeous country. With ranches, great places to hike, wonderful restaurants and stunning Prosperity Falls, the waterfall that draws tourists and locals, what’s not to love? I had fun creating the town and look forward to further developing it as I write new stories.

Sly Pettit, a successful rancher, hasn’t had life easy. The oldest of three siblings (don’t worry, they’ll get their own books), Sly had to grow up fast. Except for his little sister, he doesn’t trust anyone. He likes living alone.

Lana Carpenter owns a day care. Almost six years ago, Lana married and settled into what she thought was her happily ever after. Her dream ended when her husband left her for someone else. Lana longs for a family of her own.

I loved writing Sly and Lana’s story, and hope you’ll enjoy reading about them.

Enjoy!

Ann

P.S. I always appreciate hearing from readers. Email me at [e-mail], write me c/o P.O. Box 25003, Seattle, WA 98165-1903, or visit my Facebook page. And please visit my website, at www.annroth.net, where you can sign up for my newsletter and enter the monthly drawing to win a free, autographed book! Be sure to visit the Fun Stuff page, where you’ll find my blog, recipes and other fun stuff.

For even more, check out my Ann Roth Author page on Facebook and follow me on Twitter: @Ann_Roth.

A Rancher’s Honor

Ann Roth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ann Roth lives in the greater Seattle area with her husband. After earning an MBA she worked as a banker and corporate trainer. She gave up the corporate life to write, and if they awarded PhDs in writing happily-ever-after stories, she’d surely have one.

Ann loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 25003, Seattle, WA 98165-1903, or email her at [e-mail].

To my wonderful readers. You’re the best!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Extract

Chapter One

Lana Carpenter woke up with the worst headache ever. With a groan, she cracked one eye open to glance at the clock on the bedside table. But there was no clock, and the dark wood table was nothing like her oak furniture.

She wasn’t in her queen-size bed at her town house—she was in a king-size bed in a hotel room, and judging by the monogram on the sheets, it was the Prosperity Inn, one of Prosperity, Montana’s, four-star hotels.

Both eyes were open now. After stealing a peek at the other side of the bed—it was empty, but a dented pillow lay close to hers—she sat up quickly, grimacing at the sudden thundering in her temples.

The clock on that side of the bed said it was just after ten. She never slept this late—even if it was Saturday!

She pulled the dented pillow to her face and the lingering scent of a man’s spicy aftershave tickled her nostrils. One whiff and everything flooded back.

Kate picking her up and commiserating with her over the fact that Brent and Julia had had their baby. Driving to the Bitter & Sweet Bar and Grill for dinner and dancing to a live country-and-western band. Consuming too little dinner and too many cocktails in an effort to forget her ex’s betrayal. The handsome cowboy at the table across the way, and the strong attraction that had flared between them from the first moment of eye contact.

On the way to the bar, Lana hadn’t even thought about meeting a man. She was still recovering from the divorce and had only wanted to forget that Brent’s new wife had given him the one thing Lana couldn’t—a baby.

Then the sexy cowboy had asked her to dance, and they’d kept on dancing, with short stops for drinks and casual chitchat in between. After a while Kate had grown bored and left. Lana had stayed, with the intention of finding a cab later to take her home. But she’d soon forgotten all about the cab when dancing progressed to long, passionate kisses and the haste to rent a room within walking distance so that she and the cowboy could...

“Oh, dear God, I didn’t!” she muttered, shattering the quiet.

Her clothes lay in a telltale trail that started just inside the door and ended near the bed.

She definitely had.

Which was so unlike her. Another groan escaped from her. Normally, she wasn’t much of a drinker. Oh, sure, she enjoyed an occasional glass of wine with dinner, but that was pretty much it. She’d never picked up a stranger, either.

Sly, that was his name, had assured her that he was clean—Lana recalled that. She’d stated that she was clean and healthy, too. Shortly after Brent had left her for Julia some eighteen months ago, she’d had herself tested. She hadn’t been with a man since.

Until last night.

She and Sly had more than made up for her year and a half of celibacy. Boy, had they.

Her cheeks warmed. Then she remembered that sometime during the night, as they lay tangled together after making love, he’d explained he’d have to leave for work early in the morning. Lana was glad he’d let her sleep instead of waking her to say goodbye, because facing him this morning would have been, at best, uncomfortable.

Mother Nature called. Clutching her head, Lana made her way to the bathroom. There on the counter she found a bottle of aspirin and an unopened half liter of water. Under the water, a note.

Last night was great. This should help with the hangover.

Bless the man for his thoughtfulness. After swallowing several pain tablets with a healthy quantity of water, she studied herself in the mirror. Despite her headache, she looked radiant, as if she was still basking in the afterglow of a night of unbridled passion. Sly was right—last night had been great.

A long shower helped revive her, and by the time she dried off, fixed her hair and dressed in last night’s clothes—clean clothes would have been nice, but Lana didn’t have any with her—she felt almost normal.

She was shrugging into her coat to leave when her cell phone chirped “It’s Raining Men.” Kate’s favorite song. Lana picked up right away. “Hey there.”

“You were supposed to call this morning with the scoop. Tell me that handsome cowboy you were dancing with gave you a ride home.”

Lana glanced at the unmade bed, winced and plopped onto a chair. “Not exactly.”

“You’re saying you turned him down and took a cab instead? That’s a crying shame, Lana, because for the first time in forever, you were actually having fun with a really hot guy.”

Kate was right about the hot part. Tall, lean and muscled, with startling silvery-blue eyes and a killer smile, Sly was every woman’s cowboy fantasy. Lana caught herself in a dreamy sigh and frowned. “He never offered me a ride.”

“Well, shoot. And he seemed so into you. How much longer did you dance before you parted company?”

“Um...actually, we didn’t part company. I’m at the Prosperity Inn.” Which was only a few short blocks from the Bitter & Sweet.

“What are you doing at a hotel?” Kate asked, then answered her own question with a singsong “Oh.” Her voice softened to an excited whisper. “You should have said something sooner. Call me later.”

“It’s okay—he’s not here.”

“You mean he’s in the shower?”

“No, I mean he had to leave early this morning to go to work. I slept in.”

“It’s not like you to spend the night with a guy you just met.”

“Tell me about it.” As a rule, Lana waited for that level of intimacy until she was in a relationship. “I can’t believe I did this.”

“Hey, it happens. Did you at least enjoy yourself?”

Lana didn’t have to think long about that. Now that her headache was all but gone, other things bubbled into her mind. Good memories that made her whole body hum. “It was pretty special.”

“Ooh. Gonna share some details?”

“No!”

“At least give me his name? Maybe what he does for a living?”

“His name is Sly and I assume he’s a rancher. He must be, right? Who else has to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work on a Saturday? I don’t know his last name or anything else about him, except that he’s never been married. I said I was divorced.”

In the heat of the moment, she’d also mentioned that she couldn’t have kids. “We agreed that this was a night to forget our troubles and keep things fun and light.” They’d accomplished both goals, in spades. “I don’t think we’ll ever see each other again.”

“That’s so unlike you.”

“So you said.” As unforgettable as last night had been, Lana regretted what she’d done. She massaged the space between her eyes. “Remind me to never drink again.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look on the positive side—you’re back in the saddle, and a darned handsome cowboy put you there.” Kate hooted at her joke. “Besides, you needed to be wild for one night. Once you adopt a baby, you won’t be able to overdo the alcohol or stay out all night on a whim.”

“I never do either of those things.”

“You did last night. Listen, I have to leave for my mani-pedi, but if you need a ride, I can come pick you up in an hour or so.”

Lana supposed she could order breakfast downstairs and wait, but she wanted to change into fresh clothes. She also had a jillion things to do today—clean her house, grocery shop, do laundry, et cetera. “I’ll take a cab, thanks. Send me a picture of your nails.”

“Will do. Talk to you later.”

* * *

EARLY APRIL IN western Montana usually brought mornings cold enough to see your own breath. Yet this morning, Sly Pettit was sweating like a son of a dog. He also felt like crap. At thirty-five he was no longer able to shake off a hangover with a couple of aspirin as easily as he’d done at thirty.

“Sly? I said, if you’re feelin’ poorly, Ollie, Bean and I can handle the rest of the branding.”

Ace, Sly’s longtime foreman, was staring at him oddly, and Bean, a grizzled cowhand, wore a frown. Ollie, a rangy twenty-year-old kid Sly had hired for the spring and summer, shot him a curious glance.

Sly realized he was grimacing and smoothed his expression. When he’d met his attorney at the Bitter & Sweet Bar and Grill for dinner last night, he’d planned on staying about an hour, then heading home. Instead, he’d arrived home just shy of dawn. “I’m okay,” he said.

“Well, you look like you’ve been run over by a tractor and left for dead.” Ace blew on his hands to warm them and then shook his head. “It’s that trouble with Tim Carpenter, isn’t it?”

Bean said nothing, but now he appeared intrigued. Ollie, too.

Sly and his lawyer, Dave Swain, had met to discuss whether Sly should sue Carpenter. The whole idea left a bad taste in Sly’s mouth. Dave didn’t enjoy it either, and thought Sly should try to work things out with his neighbor, who owned the Lazy C Ranch, which was adjacent to Pettit Ranch. But Carpenter’s refusal to sit down and talk had left Sly without much choice.

“I’m not happy about it,” Sly said. “But that’s not why I look like hell. I’m hungover.”

The crew members chuckled.

“Been there more than a few times myself,” Ace said. “The way you’re sweatin’ out that alcohol, you’re sure to feel better in no time.”

Sly lifted the gate of the holding pen and Ace slapped the rump of one of the January calves they’d culled from the herd earlier.

As the calf loped from the pen and Sly herded her toward the calf table, he thought about the mess with his neighbor. Tim Carpenter had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide, mainly because Pettit Ranch was profitable. Not enough to replenish Sly’s all-but-empty savings, but enough to pay the bills. It wasn’t his fault the Lazy C continually struggled to stay solvent.

He and Carpenter had never been friends. Now they were enemies. All because a few months back, someone had poisoned Sly’s cattle. Two of his heifers had miscarried and had lost any chance of future pregnancies, and three others had died. As a grown man, Sly rarely felt powerless, but he had then. He hated his inability to help his animals as they sickened, as he’d watched them die and feared that others could, too.

Autopsies and tests had proved that his animals had been poisoned with arsenic. Neither Sly nor his crew had any idea who’d do something so heinous. Then by chance, Ace had spotted a small pile of white powder just inside the northernmost pasture fence off the private service road that ran between Pettit Ranch and the Lazy C. He’d tested the powder and determined it to be arsenic. Both ranches shared the road, and no one else had access. Who else but Carpenter could have set the arsenic there?

Still, Sly had given his neighbor the benefit of the doubt. He’d driven to Carpenter’s and attempted to question him. The first time Carpenter had ordered him off his land. On Sly’s next try, he’d pulled out a rifle and aimed it at Sly’s chest.

Which sure made it seem as if the man had something to hide. That was when Sly had quit trying to straighten things out himself and hired a lawyer. Not with the intention of suing, but to get Carpenter to cough up information that could shed light on what had happened. That plan had also failed, and now he really was on the verge of suing.

“Sly?” Ace was waiting for Sly to say something.

“I need to get to the bottom of this poisoning.”

Ace rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re suing, then?”

Ollie and Bean looked down, as if the subject made them uncomfortable.

Join the crowd, Sly thought. “You all know how much those vet bills, tests and autopsies cost, and the cows we lost...” Sly shook his head. He wanted to be reimbursed for his losses.

The money he’d spent on all those things had been earmarked for a badly needed new drainage system. The existing one, installed some thirty years ago, functioned on a wing and a prayer. The next big rain could result in heavy flooding and wreak havoc on valuable low-lying pastureland. Sly and his men could do some of the grunt work, but they needed to bring in an expert. He’d considered taking out a loan to cover the costs, but as it was, the monthly payment on his mortgage was a strain. Any more debt and he’d be in over his head. He wasn’t about to jeopardize everything he’d worked for by borrowing more.

“The way things stand,” he said, “I don’t see any other options.”

“He’s a tough nut to crack, all right.” Ace pulled off his baseball cap and scratched one of his sideburns. “The Bitter & Sweet always brings in a live band on Friday and Saturday nights. I hope you spent some of the evening dancing off your troubles with a pretty girl.”

Lana was no girl. She was all woman. “I danced a time or two,” Sly admitted.

His foreman, who’d been married umpteen years, nodded approvingly. “Now and then a man’s got to cut loose and have some fun.”

Ollie, who knew his way around branding and, according to him, around women, too, grinned. “Me and my girlfriend, Tiff? We sure put the f-u-n in our Friday night.” He made a lewd gesture with his hands. “But we’re doin’ that almost every night.”

Fun didn’t come close to describing Sly’s night with Lana, but he wasn’t about to talk about that. “Let’s get this job done so Ace can take the rest of the weekend off,” he said. When time and weather allowed, Sly and his foreman alternated weekends off. This was Ace’s weekend, and he and his wife had planned a trip to Billings to visit their college-age son at Montana State.

“Ready with that iron?” Sly asked Ollie.

“Ready, boss.”

The four of them spent the next few hours herding the calves one by one to the calf table so that the cows could be marked with the Pettit Ranch brand and then vaccinated. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, allowing Sly’s mind to replay the previous evening.

Over dinner, Dave had reluctantly agreed to prepare and file the lawsuit, but he was tying up loose ends for several other clients and needed ten days to put the suit together and file the papers. Shortly after the lawyer had finished his coffee and dessert, he’d left to get home to his wife and kids.

Sly didn’t have a wife or kids, or anyone to hurry home to. His life was uncomplicated, which was exactly how he liked it. He spent his days working hard to keep his ranch profitable and successful, and enjoyed spending his evenings either going out or relaxing alone in his quiet house. But the whole lawsuit business was unsettling, and last night he’d wanted to take his mind off his troubles. So he’d hung around the Bitter & Sweet, waiting for the band to play.

As soon as the cute blonde and her friend had sat down at a table across the way, Sly had forgotten all about his problems. He’d always enjoyed an attractive woman, and when the blonde had looked at him and smiled, something had sizzled between them. He had to meet her.

From the start, they’d hit it off. Lana was fun and easy to talk to, and her eyes had telegraphed that she was attracted to him. Best of all, she’d only wanted a good time. They’d agreed not to share their last names and had steered away from deep conversation.

A dozen dances and several drinks later, Sly had kissed her. Her warmth and enthusiasm had just about blown his socks off. Neither of them had wanted to stop, and before Sly knew it, he was walking her to the Prosperity Inn and paying for a hotel room.

Under regular circumstances he wouldn’t have acted so rashly. He rarely picked up a woman he’d never met before and taken her to bed. But his decision had turned out to be a damn fine one.

The sex had been phenomenal.

His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten her number. He’d thought about waking her and asking her for it before he left at the crack of dawn. But neither of them had gotten much rest, and she’d been sleeping so peacefully that he hadn’t had the heart to disturb her.

Just then, Sly’s daydream was interrupted when on the way to the calf table, one of the calves turned renegade and tried to run off. “Come back here, you,” Sly called as he and Ace cut her off.

When they caught her and steered her back, Ace took up the conversation where they’d left off. “The gal you danced with—you gonna see her again?”

“Probably not.”

The more important reason Sly hadn’t asked for her number was that getting involved with her would be a bad idea. His last girlfriend had accused him of avoiding intimacy, and then dumped him. Not because she’d taken up with some other guy, but because she was fed up with his so-called emotional distance.

She wasn’t the first woman to accuse him of that, but Sly had always been confused as to what “emotional distance” meant. In bed, he demonstrated plenty of emotion.

Maybe it had something do with the fact that he rarely brought the women he dated to his place. All his former girlfriends had complained about that, but hell, his home was his sanctuary and his bedroom was his private space, off-limits to all but his housekeeper, who cleaned it.

After his last breakup and a few months of self-imposed celibacy, Sly had finally figured out what women meant by emotional distance. He admitted to himself that outside the physical stuff, he’d never had a truly intimate relationship with a woman. Sure, he enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure, but he wasn’t about to put his heart on the line. With good reason.

People he cared deeply about tended not to stick around. First his parents, then his brother, then the girl he’d wanted to marry.

Why take the risk of getting too close? Sly wasn’t about to set himself up for that kind of heartache again.

“Now that you sweated that hangover out of your system, you’re lookin’ a sight better,” Ace commented some hours later, when they’d finished the branding.

“I suppose I’ll live,” Sly replied. “Go on now and have a nice weekend—all three of you.”

He headed for the house. Mrs. Rutland, his part-time housekeeper—with just him to feed and clean up after, he didn’t need her full-time—left at noon on Thursdays and Fridays, but cooked enough meals to last until Monday. After showering and changing, Sly filled his belly and then headed outside again to tackle the late-afternoon chores. He fed and watered the horses, giving Bee, his bay, her usual carrot. He checked on the stock and noted additional chores that needed doing the following day.

Then he flopped on the sofa with the remote. Nothing on the tube interested him, and his mind kept wandering to last night. As worn-out as he was, he felt oddly restless—too restless to hang around at home. He considered grabbing a beer someplace, but after last night he needed a rest from alcohol.

He called his sister to ask if she wanted to catch a movie. Dani didn’t answer, which wasn’t surprising on a Saturday night. She was probably out with her boyfriend of the month or her friends.

Sly hung up without leaving a message. He almost wished he had Lana’s number...until he reminded himself that it was better he didn’t.

Moments later he grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and left through the mudroom. He wasn’t sure where he was headed, but anyplace was better than sitting around here, thinking about a woman he didn’t plan on ever seeing again.

* * *

IT WAS LATE Sunday when Lana parked in front of the house where she’d grown up. It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon, casting the distant, snow-covered Cascade Mountains in rosy hues. Spring was her favorite time of year, when the air smelled fresh and sweet, and life seemed to bud and surge everywhere.