Cowboy Honor--Includes a bonus novella Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Carolyn Brown

  Preview from Cowboy Brave copyright © 2018 by Carolyn Brown

  O Little Town of Bramble copyright © 2011 by Cathleen Smith

  Compilation copyright © 2018 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes

  Cover copyright © 2018 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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  First Edition: September 2018

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  ISBNs: 978-1-5387-4488-8 (mass market), 978-1-5387-4490-1 (ebook)

  E3-20180815-DA-PC

  Contents

  Cover

  Cowboy Honor Copyright

  Dedication

  Letter to Readers

  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

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  A Preview of COWBOY BRAVE

  About the Author

  Also by Carolyn Brown

  High Praise for Carolyn Brown

  O Little Town of Bramble by Katie Lane Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Also by Katie Lane

  About the Author

  Fall in Love With Forever

  Newsletters

  This one is for my granddaughter, Kara Brown Dobbs. Thank you for all the support and love you give me and for loaning me Zaylie for this story!

  Dear Reader,

  It’s a rare thing when I get to write a book in the season that it’s actually set in. But this time I got to experience ice and snow, cold weather, and the Christmas holiday as I wrote Cowboy Honor. That means I didn’t have to turn down the air-conditioning and put on the Christmas CDs to keep me in the right spirit.

  And I loved it!

  During the Christmas holiday, Mr. B and I rented ten condos and took the family to Florida. It was amazing, and one of the things that made it even more special was that I got to spend a week watching my great-grandchildren play in the heated pool and on the beach. Zaylie was the only girl, but she held her own with all those boys. It was so special to see her in action during that time, because she is the inspiration for the little girl named Zaylie in Cowboy Honor. She’s tiny with wispy blond hair and big blue eyes—but beware! She could easily be the poster child for that saying about dynamite coming in small packages.

  I have so many people to thank for helping me take an idea and turn it into the book you hold in your hands today. First of all, a huge thanks to my granddaughter, Kara Brown Dobbs, for letting me use Zaylie’s name and her attitude in the book. And once again, many, many thanks to my editor, Leah Hultenschmidt. I gave her a manuscript and she waved this virtual magic wand over it, and it turned from a pumpkin to a glittery coach! Also to my whole Forever team. I’m truly blessed to have you all in my life.

  Big hugs to Erin and the whole Folio Literary Management team. I’m grateful for everything y’all do so that I don’t have to worry about anything but writing my stories.

  And to Mr. B—my soul mate and best friend. Thank you for all you do and for understanding my passion. It takes a special person to live with an author who has voices in her head and cowboys in bed with her every night as she goes to sleep.

  Don’t put your boots and hats away when you finish Claire and Levi’s story. Justin is about to meet his match in Cowboy Brave, which will arrive the first of 2019.

  Happy Reading to all y’all.

  Until next time,

  Carolyn Brown

  Chapter One

  At the sound of heavy boots stomping across the wooden porch of the old cabin, Claire grabbed her purse, unzipped the side pocket, and brought out a small pistol. Her heart was in her throat, and her pulse raced so fast that she couldn’t breathe, but she held the gun in both hands and pointed it straight at the door. A key rattled in the lock and the knob turned, but her hands were rock steady and the red laser dot was unwavering on the left side of the intruder’s chest. What looked like the abominable snowman filled the space, and her four-year-old niece, Zaylie, squealed and dived beneath the quilt they were both huddling under.

  With shoulders and a chest so broad that it obliterated the blowing snow, the man just stood there staring at her. After what seemed like forever but was probably less than a minute, he whipped off the black face mask and wiped snow from his thick eyelashes. Fear sent adrenaline rushing through Claire’s body, but her brother had told her to never show that she was afraid—even if she was terrified.

  “Who are you and what are you doin’ here?” She kept the pistol aimed at his chest. If she missed a target that big, her brother would never let her live it down.

  Both of his hands went up. “Don’t shoot, lady. I’m Levi Jackson, the foreman of this ranch.” He shut the door behind him with a heavy thud. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. My four-wheeler ran out of gas, and I need a place to hole up until this storm is over.”

  She lowered the gun but kept it in her lap. “Just don’t get too close.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep my distance. Take it easy.” He kicked off his cowboy boots and bent forward to undo the short zippers on the legs of his coveralls and then the longer one down the front. He shrugged his wide shoulders out of the garment and hung it on a nail inside the door.

  “What are y’all doin’ here anyway?” he asked as he made his way across the room toward the kitchen area.

  “My vehicle slid off the road in this awful snow storm and hit a tree. We saw this place. It was unlocked.” She kept her finger on the trigger and her eyes on h
im. “We’re not hurting anything, and we’ll be gone as soon as it stops snowing.”

  He removed his cowboy hat and combed his light brown hair back with his fingers. “When did this happen? Were you injured?”

  “It was last night. We’re fine except for a few bruises. We slid off the road, went through a fence, and hit a tree. My van is down there not far off the road if you need proof. My cell phone battery had gone dead, and I left the charger at my brother’s, and…” She shrugged.

  “I’m glad you found shelter. It’s nasty out there! I’m just going to get a fire started so we can warm this place up a bit.” He kept one eye on her as he walked to a cabinet. “I’m going to get the matches. Don’t shoot me.”

  Zaylie pushed the quilt back far enough to peek out with one blue eye, but she quickly dived back under when the man took a few more steps.

  “It’s okay.” Claire hugged the child closer with her free hand. “He’s going to start a fire so we can get warm.”

  The huge cowboy removed his gloves and stuck them in his pocket, then retrieved a box of matches from the top shelf. “I’d sure feel better if you put the safety back on that pistol and put it away.” He strode back across the room and dropped to his knees in front of the old stone fireplace. “It won’t take long to get this place warmed up.”

  “I wish I’d found those matches. I would’ve started that fire myself.” She pushed the safety switch to the on position but kept her thumb on it.

  “Seems like we might be here a while. Mind if I ask your names?” He dropped the match in the fireplace, and the kindling blazed.

  “I’m Claire Mason. This is my niece, Zaylie. Sorry to be trespassin’ like this.”

  “It’s no problem. We never lock the door just in case someone needs to use the cabin.” He sat down on the worn sofa facing the fire and removed his socks. Stretching his bare feet toward the fire to warm them, he glanced over his shoulder. “Sure y’all ain’t hurt?”

  Zaylie stopped shivering from under the quilt, and Claire slipped the pistol back into her purse. “We’re fine. Thank you for starting a fire.”

  “If you’d come over here closer to it, you’d warm up quicker,” he said. “Now, I’m going to reach in my hip pocket for my phone. I need to let the folks at the ranch know where I am.”

  Claire nodded but reached back into her purse, pulled out the pistol, and closed her fingers around the grip again. His angular face broke out into a smile when someone answered.

  “Retta, I’m at the cabin. Four-wheeler is out of gas, and the battery on my phone is almost gone. Did Justin and Cade find that rangy old bull?”

  He listened and then said, “That’s great. No, we’ll wait out the blizzard. There’s food and plenty of wood.” He drew his feet up on the sofa and tucked them under a blanket. “Okay, it’s not a real blizzard, but for north central Texas it sure feels like one. My phone is starting to bleep so listen up.” He told her about finding a half-frozen lady and a child in the cabin. Then he held the phone out and sighed before he laid it on an end table next to the sofa. “Well, that’s the last of communication with the outside world. Last weather report I heard said the storm was going to hang around until tomorrow. Y’all hungry?”

  Zaylie pushed back the blanket and nodded. “I’m hungry. Who is Retta?”

  “You goin’ to take your hand off that gun, ma’am, or do I need to verbalize every thing I’m doin’ so you don’t get trigger happy and shoot me? Justin and Cade Maguire own this ranch and Retta is Cade’s wife. They can’t come get us right now, but they’ll be here soon as possible.”

  Levi didn’t look afraid even when he tiptoed across the cold floor to the other side of the cabin. For that matter, he looked as if he knew the place very well, like he might really be the foreman of the ranch, just as he said.

  Claire slipped the gun back in her purse, but she didn’t zip the pocket. “Thank you for not throwing us out.”

  “What are you doing?” Zaylie pushed the covers back a little more.

  “I’m going over here to this chest of drawers to get some dry socks, maybe two pair until this floor gets warmed up. And then I’m going to make hot soup for lunch,” he answered as he dug around in a dresser drawer and brought out a pair of gray socks. “There’s lots here. Y’all need some to keep your feet warm?”

  “I brought our suitcases in with us.” Claire nodded toward a couple of bags at the end of the bed.

  In a few long strides he was back to the sofa, where he held the socks near the fire and then put them on his feet. “Ahh, that’s much better. Now, let’s get some food ready.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out some cans of soup.

  “That sounds good.” She could be polite and appreciative, but that didn’t mean he was luring her into trusting him—not even with food and a sexy grin.

  Levi had a reputation on the Longhorn Canyon Ranch for bringing in strays, from dogs to turtles to a crippled miniature donkey. His experience had taught him to give an animal space and to let them come to him. No need to be in a rush anyway—the storm wouldn’t let up until tomorrow morning at the earliest, and it might be a day past that before Cade or Justin could rescue them. He just hoped that she kept that cute little pistol tucked away and didn’t point it at him again.

  The tiny one-room cabin could sleep up to four people and was often rented out to hunters in the fall and spring. Two sets of bunk beds set end to end covered the south wall. A sofa with a couple of mismatched end tables faced the stone fireplace. Four chairs—no two alike—were pushed around a small kitchen table over in the far corner. Cupboards without doors hung above a wall-hung sink. A tiny two-burner stove and an apartment-size refrigerator were on one end of the kitchen area and a closet that had been converted into a pantry on the other.

  “Where were y’all headed?” he asked as he turned the knob and struck a match to light one of the stove burners.

  “My daddy went away again.” Zaylie sighed. “But he’ll be home for Christmas.”

  He didn’t want to spook the child by looking right at her, so he stole sideways glances. She was a delicate-looking little girl with huge blue eyes and wispy blond hair falling to her shoulders.

  “We were on our way home from San Antonio, Texas, to Randlett, Oklahoma, right across the Red River,” Claire answered. She didn’t look a thing like her niece, with her long brown hair twisted up on top of her head with some kind of big clip and light green eyes set in a round face.

  “How did you get way back here?” He poured two cans of noodle soup into a pan and set it on the burner.

  The electricity flickered, and Zaylie dived back under the quilt.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Levi said. “We’ve got plenty of wood so we won’t freeze, and the hurricane lamps you see scattered around aren’t just for pretty.”

  “But you’ll keep the monsters away if it gets dark, won’t you?” Her blue eyes were huge.

  “I promise.” He nodded and turned his attention toward Claire. “How did you get this far off the highway going from San Antonio to Randlett?”

  “There was an accident on the Interstate and the GPS on my phone rerouted me, but then I lost service, probably because of the storm,” she explained. “When I got it back, I’d gotten off on the wrong road and the snow was coming down so hard I couldn’t see more than a foot in front of the van. The battery in my phone played out, and I hit a really big pothole in the road and a slick spot at the same time.” She talked fast and twisted the edge of the quilt, obviously more than a little nervous.

  “The car went like this.” Zaylie waved her arms around. “And then a tree was right there, and the car stopped with a big bump. And Aunt Claire said ‘shit’ and then she hit the steering wheel.” Zaylie slung her legs off the bed and ventured over closer to the fire. Holding her little hands out to warm them, she looked so vulnerable that Levi wanted to hug her and reassure her that everything would be fine. Poor little thing had to have been scared out of her mind when the car was slippi
ng and sliding all over the road.

  “Zaylie Noelle Mason, little girls don’t say that word,” Claire scolded.

  “I didn’t say it, you did,” Zaylie argued, and then turned her attention back to Levi. “I held Aunt Claire’s hand real tight so I wouldn’t get blowed away. Is the soup ready yet?”

  “Almost. And I’m thinking I could make a hoecake too.”

  “Hoecake?” Claire eased off the bed and joined Zaylie at the fireplace.

  “Something like a cornbread pancake. It’ll take less fuel than firing up the oven, and it will cook faster.”

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  “Dejert?” Zaylie asked.

  “Dessert,” Claire translated.

  He rustled around in the cabinet and found a can of peaches, powdered sugar, and pancake mix. “How about some peach fritters for dessert?”

  “I like peaches. Is this like campin’ out?” Zaylie left the fireplace, put her knees on the sofa, and peered over the back at him.

  “Little bit,” he answered with a smile.

  Claire had the same look in her eye that the ranch’s old mama cat, Gussie, did when someone got too close to her kittens as she made her way across the room and joined Zaylie on the sofa. Yep, he would have to go real slow to gain her trust.

  “Looks like there’s some blood on your forehead, Miz Claire. There’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom if you want to clean it up.” He wanted to offer to clean the wound and see just how deep it was, but his better judgment told him that wouldn’t be wise. She looked like she might spook easier than a wild deer.

  “Oh. Come on, Zaylie, you might need to help me.” She took the little girl by the hand and led her to the bathroom.

  Levi read the directions on the cornbread mix and stirred it up. When the oil in a cast iron skillet was hot, he poured the mixture in it and covered it with a heavy lid.

  While that cooked, he whipped up some peach fritters to fry as soon as the bread was done. It took two things to get an animal to trust him—patience and food. He hoped it worked as well on humans.