Briar's Cowboys Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Briar’s Cowboys Copyright © 2013, Brynn Paulin

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also Available from Resplendence Publishing

  www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Briar’s Cowboys

  A Daly Way Story

  By Brynn Paulin

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Briar’s Cowboys

  Copyright © 2013, Brynn Paulin

  Edited by Christine Allen-Riley and Jason Huffman

  Cover Art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

  Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349

  Daytona Beach, FL 32118

  Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-631-8

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Electronic Release: February 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  For my readers and, as always, Mr. Inspiration

  Prologue

  “There’s a mistake—”

  “It took some searching to find you, Ms. Rhodes, but there’s no mistake. Your father left you the Last Chance ranch in Daly. His will names you as the sole heir. It’s uncontested.”

  Briar Rhodes stared at the handsome, dark-haired lawyer sitting on the couch across from her in her shabby apartment. His sharply pressed charcoal suit and pristine white shirt seemed out of place on the seventies floral-print upholstery. In fact, when placed against the faded, beige-striped wallpaper and green shag carpet, he looked like a rich man who’d stumbled from the suburbs into the projects of downtown—not that she lived in a ghetto, but the area wasn’t particularly affluent, either. Her place was clean, and that was all it had going for it. While she paid off her student loans—for a job she hadn’t been able to land—and her mother’s outstanding medical bills, it was the best she could do.

  Still, the location hardly mattered as her stomach did a sickly tumble. This lawyer knew her father. Her father, a man she knew yet hadn’t realized had sired her. Bile burned along her tight throat while heat prickled across her back. Swallowing, she tightened her arms around her middle and tried to control her agitated breathing.

  She shook her head, denying the guy’s words. “Mr. Danell, I don’t have a father.”

  Pressing a cold palm to her eyes, she took a deep breath and pushed it out hard. Of course, she had a father; she wasn’t a biological freak. Still, this man must now think she was an idiot—if he hadn’t thought so already.

  “I…I mean that I didn’t know about him. My mother always told me…” Briar took another deep breath and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Her mother was dead, and apparently, so was her father, someone who’d supposedly been an anonymous one-night stand. Not so much. If this claim turned out to be true, he’d been Peter Daly, one of Daly Wyoming’s blue bloods, and she’d known him for sixteen years.

  Shaking her head, she met the lawyer’s kind, blue eyes. “My mother worked at his brother’s ranch, The Flying D. There’s no way—”

  “I know this is a lot to absorb. Why don’t I leave you the papers I brought? You can look them over then I’ll come back and we can discuss how to proceed. I assume you’ll want to sell the place…”

  His statement seemed more of a question, and Briar nodded. What would she do with a ranch? She wasn’t equipped to handle this. She was a bartender. She’d probably fall off a horse if she tried to seat one after all this time. Besides, selling the ranch would solve the money issues that kept her in this apartment. It wasn’t as if she had a sentimental connection to the Last Chance. Her father hadn’t ever bothered to introduce himself as such.

  “I’ll contact you tomorrow then.” Mr. Danell rose, and she noticed how his muscles rippled beneath his well-cut suit. This was a man who did more than sit behind a desk, but he was just a man, like the plethora of horny males she waited on at the bar where she worked. He might not be copping feels, but his eyes had drunk their fill of her, albeit discreetly.

  She followed him to the door where he turned. “It wasn’t an anonymous one-night stand, Ms. Rhodes. Your father was very aware of your existence. I’ll be in touch.”

  He tipped his head then left Briar staring after him, feeling as if her world had suddenly tipped sideways.

  She owned a ranch. In Wyoming. In Daly.

  Chapter One

  “Welcome to Daly,” Briar murmured as she passed the sign marking the town’s edge, a few snowflakes swirling lazily before her windshield. Her mom had always said it would be a cold day in hell before either she or Briar returned to this place, and Briar guessed maybe this was it. A massive snowstorm was predicted to hit by tonight, and she’d sped a bit to arrive before the blizzard started.

  Even after twelve years away, she recalled how impassible roads around here could be when snow really started.

  As she approached Daly’s main drag, she slowed her battered, red pickup to roll along the familiar thoroughfare and take in the changes that had occurred since she’d been dragged away as a sobbing teenager. That horrible, shocking day had been seared into Briar’s memories as one of the worst days of her life. She’d been ripped away from everything she knew as her mom, Deloris, had gone nuts. Over a decade later, temporary insanity was still the only explanation Briar could comprehend.

  Deep in thought, she pulled into O’Keefe’s Gas and Repair to fill up before heading out to the Last Chance. The O’Keefes had expanded their business. Not only had the service station been remodeled to accommodate more repair work, but they’d turned their old Victorian house across the street into a bed and breakfast. She wondered if that meant there was tourist traffic to Daly. It’d once been little more than a reclusive cow town, but things changed. She’d learned as a sixteen year old girl that nothing stayed the same.

  A bell dinged on the side of the garage as she pulled up to the only pump.

  “Can I help you?” a man asked as she rolled down her window.

  “Patrick?” she posed with a grin as she looked over the dark-haired man who’d strolled up to the car. Of course, his shirt said Patrick, but she was shocked to see him. He’d been Verity Thompson’s boyfriend way back when, and Verity had been Briar’s best friend and cohort in whatever harebrained adventure they could think up.

  Verity…

  Briar’s smile faded. Verity had unexpectedly run away a couple months before Deloris had moved Briar to Chicago. Now, seeing Patrick reminded her of the Daly-sized hole that had been in her soul since that time in her life. Her sixteenth year really had sucked.

  “Briar!” he exclaimed. Yanking open the truck door, he dragged her out and into a hug. “We heard you were coming; we just didn’t know when. Welcome home! Oh my lord, Verity is going to be glad to see you. She’s talked of little else since Robert told us you were coming. I was hard pressed to keep her here after Jax tracked you down. She wanted to rush on over to Chicago and bring you back here herself.”

  Briar stared at him, trying to process everything tumbling from his mouth as he bear h
ugged her. Jax…he was her father’s lawyer, and Robert…had been her friend. Now, she knew he’d really been her cousin all along, and that thrilled her. She had family she loved, alive and well.

  Suddenly, everything inside her paused, and she forgot about Jax and Robert as the last of Patrick’s words sank in. Her chest ached with anxious excitement.

  “Verity?” she murmured, almost afraid to verify what he’d said. “Verity is here?”

  If possible, his grin widened as he set her an arm’s length from him. “She is. She’s the vet over at the Flying D—Robert owns it now. More importantly, she’s my wife.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you!” And in truth, she was happy—thrilled— for herself, too. Verity. Dear God, with her inheritance she’d regained so much. She couldn’t help but return Patrick’s smile as pure happiness bloomed inside her. She could barely breathe for the impact of the past minutes. She was back in Daly, and her long-lost friends were here. She’d been so alone in Chicago, but it had never occurred to her to come back here. Not even when Mr. Danell had sat on her couch and told her the Last Chance was hers.

  For the first time since accepting her birthright, she questioned her determination to evaluate the property then sell it. Nothing said she had to sell, right? What if she stayed?

  And what do you know about ranching, Briar? her inner voice countered.

  Patrick glanced at his wristwatch then tilted his head back and forth as if thinking. “It’s ten now. Verity won’t be done out there until around six today. I expect she’ll be pounding on your door about six-fifteen, unless she manages to get away sooner.” He glanced at the sky. “Or unless this storm actually happens. In that case, she’ll have to wait longer.”

  Briar grinned. “What’s another few days after twelve years, I guess. I’ll give you my number so she can call me. We’ll all have to get together and catch up while I’m here.”

  Patrick agreed, and she scratched down her phone number for him to give to Verity. They chatted about somewhat inconsequential things while he filled her vehicle’s gas tank then processed her payment. She learned that his brother Jamie was married too and owned the bed and breakfast. All the other O’Keefe brothers had moved away and hadn’t yet found anyone serious.

  Just the little bit of “hometown” news had regret echoing inside her. She’d missed so much time with the people she loved. Again, she wondered if she should keep the ranch and try to make a go of it. Maybe, she could stay and rejoin this family she’d lost twelve years ago.

  Strands of possibility tickling her mind, she hugged Patrick goodbye and reiterated that she wanted to get together soon. As she climbed in her truck, her thoughts turned fully to the ranch. Its condition would make her decision. However, no matter what shape it was in, she knew the land was worth a lot. That would be her jumping off point, and she’d go from there.

  As she headed for her turnoff to the ranch and whatever was in store for her, she found Daly the same yet different. She supposed any changes were demographic as well as structural. After all, both Patrick and Jamie were now married. Once upon a time, there were no women to be had around here, which had been good for a teenage girl, but not so great for the men. She’d never suffered from a self-image problem until she’d moved to Chicago where there were women aplenty. Here, young cowboys had been free with their whistles and compliments—and sometimes the older guys, too, but no one had stepped out of line. In Daly, frontier justice had been alive and well when it came to treating women and girls with respect. If any guy had tried anything, he would have had the crap beat out of them before the hour passed.

  She hoped that hadn’t altered. She rather liked that she didn’t need to worry about being safe in Daly. As she inched down the street, she noticed more changes. The diner that had once been the Daly Grub was now Leena’s. Dr. Thompson, Verity’s dad, was still the vet. The post office looked the same. The bar now had outdoor seating. The doctor’s office could use a new coat of paint—just as it had for as long as she remembered. The farm and feed shop was still there and had expanded—so had the hardware store. And there was an electronics and cell phone shop, now! Well, there were lots of boys in Daly, and boys did like their toys. Thankfully, it looked as if she’d get service for her phone here, too.

  A few of the connected storefronts were empty. Still, it was obvious Daly was growing and thriving.

  Soon, she left behind the town and its overwhelming nostalgia and turned down the road that led toward the Flying D and Last Chance ranches. A half hour later, anticipation sent butterflies into a flurry in her belly as she drove beneath an iron archway and onto private land. Her land. Here it was! The Last Chance. Her ranch!

  Slowly, she navigated the pitted drive leading to the ranch house. Bare-branched, centuries-old trees canopied the path for a good fifteen minutes before thinning to finally reveal a sprawling spread that was one of the largest in all the region, weighing in at over fifty-thousand acres. Everything for as far as she could see in any direction was hers.

  She stopped the truck and stared around her, momentarily overwhelmed by the realization that she owned all this. She’d had nothing all her life and now… She could barely comprehend it.

  Her hand pressed over her mouth as she took in the gray and brown landscape, knowing that in spring it would teem with life. But this was February and steely clouds rolled in the distance. The land wouldn’t be in its full glory again for months. By then, she’d be on her way to her new life.

  Unless you stay…

  More than ever, she was gripped with the desire to reach out and hold this place with both hands and not let go. This was her heritage, and Daly was her home, her real home. Not Chicago. Daly.

  Excitement bubbled inside her, but she reminded herself not to jump into her future without fully considering everything. She had to be careful and weigh all the pros and cons, variables and scenarios, before she decided not to sell.

  As if to tempt her, late morning sunlight burst through a break in the clouds to illuminate the main house in the distance. It glinted off the shiny window panes and brightened the otherwise winter-dulled surroundings giving everything a fairytale sheen.

  Still, even with the light, Briar knew much was amiss at the ranch. Once upon a time, ranch life would have been in full swing by mid-morning, with cowboys headed in various directions to complete items on never-ending lists of chores they’d begun before sunup. Horses would have been grazing in a nearby corral. Huge, round bales would have been stacked near the barn and at least a few expectant heifers would have been seen in the distance.

  Not so today. The main house, surrounding buildings and land were as still as a ghost town. Briar half expected to see a tumbleweed roll past as she contemplated the sad sight. The corrals and yard were overgrown. The house, while in good repair, seemed sad and lonely, as if a gray haze lingered over it now that the sun had disappeared again.

  If she stayed, she’d need to hire staff, but surely, she had livestock somewhere. As she looked around, there wasn’t a single sign of animals. No cattle, no horses, not even a barn cat.

  Her father had been gone for almost a year, but Mr. Danell had said her cousin Robert, who owned the Flying D, had been taking care of her spread. Since Robert had run with her and Verity when they were younger, she knew him well—at least, as he’d been back then. Because of that, she trusted he’d seen to the best interests here.

  She supposed it made sense that the ranch was deserted. The place couldn’t just go on in full-operation mode while they searched for her, and that meant, she had a huge parcel of land that needed to be revitalized. The Last Chance needed an infusion of life.

  Putting the truck back in gear, she headed down the drive once more while mentally starting a list of things that would need to be done. As she pulled up to the house, she stared at the huge place. Three or four families could live here. Actually, back in her part of Chicago, eight.

  She parked at the foot of the wide steps th
at led to an even wider wraparound porch bordered with thick, antebellum-style columns. They reached to the gabled roof above the second storey balcony that mirrored the porch. Dark, evenly spaced windows of the brick home overlooked the grounds. Peter Daly had lived a solitary existence here, the king of the Last Chance ranch. He must have been lonely in what was obviously a family home.

  It was the life he’d chosen. He knew about you, her inner voice reasoned, but she couldn’t push aside her sympathy for the man.

  Grabbing her purse, she withdrew the key to the front entrance and headed for the massive double doors. The lock turned smoothly, and in a moment, she faced an entryway larger than her apartment.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered, already overwhelmed. Nerves bunched in her belly as she stepped forward, feeling very much like an intruder entering a home uninvited. Could she ever feel comfortable in this foreign space?

  “My apartment will never look the same,” she murmured as she walked farther into the entry. The gallery ran the length of the house with a wide, gently curving staircase in the center. A cozy sitting area had been placed near the steps, and as she walked toward it and stopped nearby, she saw why. The center of the house was open all the way to the roof where a stained glass dome caught light and cast a rainbow to the floors below.

  “Quite a view, huh? A low-power current runs through the lead to keep snow from accumulating on the dome—or so I’m told.”

  Briar jumped and spun toward the voice. Her brows drew together at the lawyer standing there, dressed in jeans, a zipped Carhartt jacket and boots. He looked like…a cowboy…not the starched attorney she’d met.

  “Mr. Danell? What…?”

  “I was riding past, and I saw your truck here. The place is something, isn’t it? Not what you’d expect out here in cow-country.”