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    Always a Cowboy
    Always a Cowboy
    Always a Cowboy
    Ebook294 pages5 hours

    Always a Cowboy

    By Linda Lael Miller

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    About this ebook

    From a New York Times–bestselling author who “creates vibrant characters and stories” the latest western romance set in Bliss County, Wyoming (Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times–bestselling author of The Best is Yet to Come).

    Drake Carson is the quintessential cowboy. In charge of the family ranch, he knows the realities of this life, its pleasures and heartbreaks. Lately, managing the wild stallions on his property is wearing him down. When an interfering so-called expert arrives and starts offering her opinion, Drake is wary, but he can’t deny the longing—and the challenge—she stirs in him.

    Luce Hale is researching how wild horses interact with ranch animals—and with ranchers. The Carson matriarch invites her to stay with the family, which guarantees frequent encounters with Drake, her ruggedly handsome and decidedly unwelcoming son. Luce and Drake are at odds from the very beginning, especially when it comes to the rogue stallion who’s stealing the ranch mares. But when Drake believes Luce is in danger, that changes everything—for both of them.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Integrated Media
    Release dateAug 30, 2016
    ISBN9781460394137
    Author

    Linda Lael Miller

    Linda Lael Miller is a #1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than one hundred  novels. Long passionate about the Civil War buff, she has studied the era avidly and has made many visits to Gettysburg,  where she has witnessed reenactments of the legendary clash between North and South. Linda explores that turbulent time in The Yankee Widow.

    Read more from Linda Lael Miller

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    Reviews for Always a Cowboy

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    • 4/5
      Always a Cowboy by Linda Lael Miller is a low-key, super sweet romance with just a hint of sass and steam. Although this latest release is the second installment in The Carsons of Mustang Creek series, it can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend the first book in the series as well.

      The sparks are definitely flying when Drake Carson stumbles across Lucinda "Luce" Hale observing a wild horse herd on his family's ranch. Initially, those sparks are fueled by animosity as Drake tries to avoid her while she works on her thesis. Luce is not any happier with Drake since he continually underestimates her ability to take care of herself as she continues gathering information for her paper. Slowly but surely, those sparks turn to passion but will this Wyoming cowboy and California woman figure out a way to make their relationship work?

      Drake is a quintessential, hardworking cowboy who has a strong work ethic and old-fashioned swoon worthy manners. He is the epitome of the strong silent type and he tries hard to avoid any type of discussion involving feelings or emotions. Drake has no interest in being a subject for Luce's thesis but he grudgingly agrees to help as long as she stays out of his way. As their paths continue to cross and he makes sure she is safe while monitoring the herd, he realizes his feelings for Luce are beginning to shift into romantic territory. With an aversion to casual relationships, will Drake give in to his desire?

      Luce is quite feisty and she will not let Drake's objections deter her from taking a few necessary risks in order to complete her thesis. They go toe to toe on a couple of occasions but they manage to figure out a compromise that works for both of them. She is quickly enamored by the laconic cowboy but Luce has her future all planned out so she is reluctant to take their relationship any further than friendship. Finding it virtually impossible to resist the simmering passion between them, Luce and Drake finally share an incredibly romantic night together, but with some very real obstacles to overcome, will their relationship end when Luce completes her research?

      Set against the wild and untamed beauty of Wyoming, Always a Cowboy is a light-hearted, angst-free addition to The Carsons of Mustang Creek series. With an endearing cast of characters and a vibrant setting, this heartwarming novel will leave readers smiling from ear to ear from the witty banter between Drake, Luce and the Carson family. I cherished every second of delightfully charming and sighworthy love story and I highly recommend it to old and new fans of Linda Lael Miller.
    • 4/5
      Always a cowboy by Linda Lael Miller Have enjoyed the authors other works. Starts with listing of authors other works and series.This book starts out with Drake Carson who's in WY runs the family herds and the middle son. He doesn't have the time to figure out why the herd is thinning...Luce Hale is studying the herds to find a solution to their problem. Steamy sex scenes and few characters and most banter with one another to make the story very interesting.Like views of what to do with wild animals. Predictable.Author answers how it all started at the end of this story.I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).
    • 4/5
      Good book. Second in the Carson series, this book is about Drake, the middle brother. Older brother, Slater (Once a Rancher), is the producer of documentaries, and younger brother, Mace, is in charge of the family winery. Drake runs the family ranch, which is just right for him. The land and its traditions are his life's blood. Not to say there aren't challenges to go along with it. For the past year they have been losing calves to a mountain lion, and there's a herd of wild horses whose stallion has been stealing Drake's mares. As icing on the cake, he finds a beautiful woman trespassing on his land.Luce is a graduate student working on a paper about how wild horses interact with ranch animals and humans. Drake's mom, an old friend of Luce's mom, has invited Luce to stay at the ranch while she does her research. This puts her into Drake's path far too often for either's comfort, at least at the beginning.I loved the first meeting between Drake and Luce. He sees that wild stallion close and is determined to catch him and move him away from the ranch and his mares. He doesn't catch him, but he does scare them off, bringing on the wrath of Luce, who has been observing them all day. I loved seeing her stand up to Drake and fuss at him. At the same time, he listened but wasn't overly receptive to her rants. But underneath the confrontation is a different kind of spark, the spark of attraction, which disturbs them both. They go head to head a few times over his resistance to cooperating with his research, and her insistence that she's well able to take care of herself out on the range. They eventually work out a compromise that has them spending time together, time that brings their simmering attraction to a full boil.I really liked seeing the two of them get to know each other and learn to respect what the other does. Once they get past their initial antagonism, Drake's true personality really begins to shine. He is funny, charming, passionate, and just a bit old-fashioned. He was very protective, especially when the mountain lion got bolder. He pretty quickly realizes what it is he feels for Luce, and is determined in his pursuit of her. Luce knows what she's feeling, too, but she has her life planned out, and staying in rural Wyoming isn't part of it. I enjoyed the realism of seeing two people who loved each other work to figure out how to make things work between them. The wedding scene was sweet, and his honeymoon plans were super romantic.As always, the secondary characters added extra depth to the story. My favorite was ranch foreman Red. He had some great cowboy sayings, and seems pretty ordinary, until you get to see a bit of his private life. I also loved Drake's mom and her not always subtle attempts to get him and Luce together. I liked seeing more of Slater, Grace and Ryder, and how they are settling in to life together. Ryder has a couple of good scenes with Drake and Luce, too. I enjoyed the teasing that Mace inflicts on his brothers, and that they aren't slow about returning the favor. Though they bicker and snipe, they are always first in line to support each other. I also liked seeing Lettie get involved in their wild horse problem. She is a force to be reckoned with. I'm looking forward to reading Mace's story.

    Book preview

    Always a Cowboy - Linda Lael Miller

    CHAPTER ONE

    THE WEATHER JUST plain sucked, but that was okay with Drake Carson. In his opinion, rain was better than snow any day of the week, and as for sleet…well, that was wicked, especially in the wide-open spaces, coming at a person in stinging blasts like a barrage of buckshot. Yep, give him a slow, gentle rainfall every time, the kind that generally meant spring was in the works. Anyhow, he could stand to get a little wet.

    Here in Wyoming, this close to the mountains, the month of May might bring sunshine and pastures blanketed with wildflowers—or a freak blizzard, wild enough to bury cattle and people alike.

    Raising his coat collar around his ears, he nudged his horse into motion with his heels. Starburst obeyed, although he seemed hesitant about it, unusually jumpy, in fact, and when that happened, Drake paid attention. Horses were prey animals and, as such, their instincts and senses were fine-tuned to their surroundings in ways a human being couldn’t equal.

    Something was going on, that was for sure.

    For nearly a year now, they’d been coming up short, Drake and his crew, when they tallied the livestock. Some losses were inevitable, of course, but too many calves, along with the occasional steer or heifer, had gone missing over the past twelve months.

    Sometimes, they found a carcass. Other times, not.

    Like all ranchers, Drake took every decrease in the herd seriously, and he wanted reasons.

    The Carson spread was big, and while Drake couldn’t keep an eye on the whole place at once, he sure as hell tried.

    Stay with me, he told his dogs, Harold and Violet, a pair of German shepherds from the same litter and two of the best friends he’d ever had.

    Then, tightening the reins slightly, in case Starburst took a notion to bolt instead of skittering and sidestepping like he was doing now, Drake looked around, squinting against the downpour. Whatever he’d expected to see—a grizzly or a wildcat or even a band of modern-day rustlers—he hadn’t expected to lay eyes on a lone female. She was just up ahead, crouched behind a small tree and clearly drenched, despite the dark rain slicker covering her slender form.

    She was peering through a pair of binoculars, having taken no apparent notice of Drake, his dogs or his horse. Even with the rain pounding down, they should have been hard to miss, being only fifty yards away.

    Whoever the lady turned out to be, he wasn’t giving her points for alertness.

    He studied her as he approached, but there was nothing familiar about her. Drake would have recognized a local woman. Mustang Creek was a small community, and strangers stood out.

    Anyway, the whole ranch was posted against trespassers, mainly to keep tourists on the far side of the fences. A lot of visiting sightseers had seen a few too many G-rated animal movies and thought they could cozy up to a bear, a bison or a wolf and snap a selfie to post on social media.

    Some greenhorns were simply naive or heedless, but others were entitled know-it-alls, disregarding the warnings of park rangers, professional wilderness guides and concerned locals. It galled Drake, the risks people took, camping and hiking in areas that were off-limits, walking right up to the wildlife, as if the place were a petting zoo. The lucky ones got away alive, but they were often missing the family pet or a few body parts when it was over.

    Drake had been on more than one search-and-rescue mission, organized by the Bliss County Sheriff’s Department, and he’d seen things that kept him awake nights, if he thought about them too much.

    He shook off the gruesome images and concentrated on the problem at hand—the woman in the rain slicker. Wondered which category—naive, thoughtless or arrogant—she fell into.

    She didn’t appear to be in any danger at the moment but, then again, she seemed oblivious to everything around her, with the exception of whatever it was she was looking at through those binoculars of hers.

    Presently, it dawned on Drake that whatever else she might be, she wasn’t the reason his big Appaloosa gelding was so worked up.

    The woman seemed fixated on the wide meadow, actually a shallow valley, just beyond the copse of cottonwood. Starburst pranced and tossed his head, and Drake tightened the reins slightly, gave a gruff command.

    The horse calmed down a little.

    Once Drake cleared the stand of cottonwoods, he stood in the stirrups, adjusted his hat and followed the woman’s gaze. Briefly, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, after days, weeks and months of searching, with only a rare and always distant sighting.

    But there they were, big as life; the stallion, his band of wild mustangs—and half a dozen mares lured from his own pastures.

    Forgetting the rain-slicked trespasser for a few moments, his breath trapped in his throat, Drake stared, taking a quick count in his head, temporarily immobilized by the sheer grandeur of the sight.

    The stallion was magnificence on the hoof, lean but with every muscle as clearly defined as if he’d been sculpted by a master. His coat was a ghostly gray, darkened by the rain, and his mane and tail were blacker than black.

    The animal, well aware that he had an audience and plainly unconcerned, lifted his head slowly from the creek where he’d been drinking and made no move to run. With no more than a hundred yards between them, he regarded Drake for what seemed like a long while, as though sizing him up.

    The rest of the band, mares included, went still, heads high, ears pricked forward, hindquarters tensed as they awaited some signal from the stallion.

    Drake couldn’t help admiring that four-footed devil, even as he silently cursed the critter, consigning him to seven kinds of hell. The instant he pressed his boot heels to Starburst’s quivering sides, a motion so subtle that Drake himself was barely aware of it, the stallion went into action.

    Nostrils flared, eyes rolling, the cocky son of a bitch snorted, then threw back his head and whinnied, the sound piercing the moisture-thickened air.

    The band whirled toward the hillside and scattered.

    The stallion stood watching as Drake, rope in hand and ready to throw, drove Starburst from a dead stop to a full run.

    Before Starburst reached the creek, though, the big gray spun on his hind legs and damn near took wing as he raced across the clearing and up the slope.

    Drake and his gelding splashed through the narrow stream, and up the opposite bank, the dogs loping alongside.

    But hard as he rode, the whole experience felt like a slow-motion sequence from one of his brother Slater’s documentaries. He and Starburst might as well have been standing still for all the progress they made closing the gap.

    The stallion paused at the top of the ridge, he and his band sketched against the stormy sky. Time seemed to stop, just for an instant, before the spell was broken and the whole bunch of them vanished as swiftly as if they’d melted into the clouds.

    Drake knew he’d lost this round.

    He reined Starburst to a halt, grabbed his hat by the brim and slapped it hard against his left thigh before jamming it back on his head. Then, still breathing hard, his jaw clamped down so hard that his ears ached from the strain, he recoiled his rope and fastened it to his saddle.

    Harold and Violet were at the foot of the ridge by then, panting visibly and looking back at Drake in confusion.

    He summoned them back with a shrill whistle, and they trotted toward him, tongues lolling, sides heaving.

    Only when he’d ridden across the creek again did Drake remember the woman. Coupled with the fact that he’d just been outwitted by that damn stallion—again—her presence stuck in his hide like a burr.

    She stood watching him as he rode toward her, her face a pale oval within the hood of her slicker.

    With bitter amusement, he noticed that her feet were set a little apart, as in a fighter’s stance, and her elbows jutted out at her sides. Her hands, no doubt bunched into fists, were pressing hard into her hips.

    As he drew nearer, he noted the spark of fury in her eyes and the tight line of her mouth.

    Under other circumstances, he might have thrown back his head and laughed out loud at her sheer audacity, but at the moment his pride was giving him too much grief for that.

    He hadn’t managed to get this close to the stallion—or his prize mares—for longer than he cared to remember. While he hated letting them get away so easily, he knew the dogs would be run ragged if he gave chase, and might even end up getting their heads kicked in. They’d been bred for herding cattle, not wild horses.

    They were disappointed just the same and whimpered in baleful protest at being called off, which only made Drake feel like more of a loser than he already did.

    Harold and Violet, named for two of his favorite elementary school teachers, ambled over to him, tails wagging. They were drenched to the skin and getting wetter by the minute, but they were quick to forgive, unlike their human counterparts, himself included.

    Just then, Drake’s chestnut quarter horse, a two-year-old mare with impeccable bloodlines, caught his eye, appearing on the crest of the ridge. Hope stirred briefly, and he drew in his breath to whistle for her, but before he could make a sound, the stallion came back, crowding the mare, nipping at her flanks and butting her with his head.

    And then she was gone again.

    Damn it all to hell.

    Thanks for nothing, mister!

    It was the intruder, the trespasser. The woman stormed toward Drake through the rain-bent grass, waving the binoculars like a maestro raising a baton at the symphony. He’d forgotten about her until that moment, and the reminder did nothing for his mood.

    He was overreacting, he knew that, but he couldn’t seem to change course.

    She was a sight, he’d say that, plowing through the grass the way she was, all fuss and fury and wet through and through.

    Drake waited a few moments before he spoke, just watching her advance on him like a one-woman army.

    Miraculously, he felt his equanimity returning. In fact, he was mildly curious about her, now that the rush of adrenaline from his lame-ass confrontation with the stallion was starting to subside.

    Drake waited with what was, for him, uncommon patience. He hoped the approaching tornado, pint-size but definitely category five, wouldn’t step in a gopher hole and break a leg, or get bitten by a snake before she completed the charge.

    Born and raised on this land, where there were perils aplenty, Drake understood the importance of practical caution. Out here, experience wasn’t just the best teacher, it was often a harsh one, too.

    As the lady got closer, he made out her face, still framed by the hood of her coat, and a pair of amber eyes that flashed as she demanded, Do you have any idea how long it took me to get that close to those horses? Days! She paused to suck in a furious breath. "And what happens when I finally catch up to them? You come along and scare them off!"

    Drake resettled his hat, tugging hard at the brim, and waited.

    The woman all but stamped her feet. Days! she repeated wildly.

    Drake felt his mouth stretch in the direction of a grin, but he suppressed it. Excuse me, ma’am, but the fact is, I’m a bit confused. You’re here because…?

    Because of the horses! The tone and pitch of her voice said he was an idiot for even asking such a question. Apparently, she thought he ought to be able to read her mind—ahead of time, and from a convenient distance. Just like a woman.

    Silently, he congratulated himself on his restraint—and for managing a reasonable tone. I see, he said, although of course he didn’t see at all. This was his land, and she was on it, and he still didn’t have any idea why.

    The least you could do is apologize, she informed him, glaring. Her hands were resting on her slim hips, like before, causing her breasts to rise in a very attractive way.

    Still mounted, Drake adjusted his hat again. The dogs sat on either side of him, looking on with calm and bedraggled interest. Starburst, on the other hand, nickered and sidestepped and tossed his head, as startled as if the woman had sprung up from the ground like a magic bean stalk.

    When Drake replied, he sounded downright amiable, his tone designed to piss her off even more, if that was possible. If there was one thing an angry woman hated, he figured, it was exaggerated politeness. "Now, why would I apologize? Given that I live here, I mean. This is private property, Ms.—"

    She wasn’t at all fazed by this information. Nor did she offer her name.

    It took me hours to track those horses down, she ranted on, flinging her arms out wide for emphasis. In this weather, no less! I finally get close enough to observe them in their natural habitat, and you…you… She paused, but only to take in a breath so she could go right on strafing him with words. "You try hiding behind a tree for hours without moving a muscle, with water dripping down your neck!"

    Drake might have pointed out that he was no stranger to inclement weather, since he rode fence lines and worked under any and all conditions, white-hot heat and blinding snowstorms and everything in between, but he felt no need to explain that to this woman or anyone else on the planet.

    Zeke Carson, his late father, had lived by a creed, and he’d drilled it into his sons early on: never complain, never explain. Let your actions tell the story.

    What were you doing there, anyhow, lurking behind my tree? he asked moderately.

    She bristled. "Your tree? No one owns a tree. And I wasn’t lurking!"

    You were, he contradicted cheerfully. And maybe you’re right about the tree. But people can sure as hell own the ground it grows out of, and that’s the case here, I’m afraid.

    She rolled her eyes.

    Great, he thought, half amused and half annoyed, a tree hugger, of the holier-than-thou variety, it seemed.

    The woman probably drove one of those little hybrid cars, not that there was anything wrong with them, but he’d bet she was self-righteous about it, cruising along at the speed of a lawn mower in the fast lane.

    Impatient with the trail his thoughts were taking, Drake made an effort to draw in his horns a bit. He was assuming a lot here.

    Still, he made every effort to protect and honor the environment, trees included, and if she was implying otherwise, he meant to set her straight. Nobody loved the natural world more than he did and, furthermore, he had a right to ask questions. The Carsons had held the deed to this ranch since homestead days, and in case she hadn’t noticed, he wasn’t running a public campground. Nor was this a state or national park.

    He leaned forward in the saddle. "Do the words no trespassing mean anything to you?" he asked mildly.

    Although he didn’t want it to show, he was still enjoying this encounter, and way more than he should have at that.

    She merely glowered up at him, arms folded now, chin set at an obstinate angle.

    Suddenly, Drake was tired to the bone. All right. Let’s see if we can clarify matters. That tree— he gestured to the one she’d taken refuge behind earlier and spoke very slowly so she could follow —is on my ranch. He paused. I’m Drake Carson. And you are?

    The look of surprise on her face was gratifying. "You’re Drake Carson?"

    I was when I woke up this morning, he drawled. I don’t imagine that’s changed since then. He let a moment pass. Now, how about answering my original question? What are you doing here?

    She seemed to wilt, and Drake supposed that was a victory, however small, but he wasn’t inclined to celebrate. Her attitude got on his last nerve, but there was something delicate about her. A kind of fragility that made him want to protect her. I’m studying the horses.

    The brim of Drake’s hat spilled water down his front as he nodded. Well, yeah, I kind of figured that. It’s really not the point, though, is it? Like I said before, and more than once, this is private property. And if you’d asked permission to be here, I’d know it.

    She blushed, but no explanation was forthcoming. Her mouth opened, then closed again, and her eyes went wide. "You’re him."

    And you would be…?

    The next moment, she was blustering again. Ignoring his question, too. Tall man on a tall horse, she remarked, her tone scathing. Very intimidating.

    A few seconds earlier, he’d been in charge here. Now he felt defensive, which was ridiculous on all counts.

    He drew a deep breath, released it slowly and spoke with quiet authority. He hoped. Believe me, I’m not trying to intimidate you, he said. My point—once again—is that you don’t have the right to be here, much less yell at me.

    Yes, I do. Her tone was testy. Well, the being here part, anyway. And I don’t think I was yelling.

    Of all the freaking gall. Drake glowered at the young woman, who was standing next to his horse by then, unafraid, giving as good as she got.

    Say what? he asked.

    "I do have the right to be on this ranch, she insisted. I asked your mother’s permission to come out and study the wild horses, and she said yes, fine, no problem at all. She was very supportive, as it happens."

    Well, shit.

    Why hadn’t she said that in the first place?

    Moreover, why hadn’t his mother bothered to mention any of this to him?

    For some reason, even in light of this development, he couldn’t back off, or not completely, anyway. Maybe it was his stubborn pride. Okay, he said evenly. "Why do you want to study wild horses? Considering that they’re…wild and everything."

    She was undaunted. No real surprise there, although it was frustrating as hell. I’m getting my PhD, and my dissertation is about the way wildlife, particularly horses, co-exist with the animals on working ranches. She added, And how ranchers deal with them. Ranchers like you.

    Ranchers like him. Right.

    Let’s get something straight, here and now, he said, feeling cornered for some reason, and wondering why he liked it. "My mother might have given you the go-ahead to bedevil all the horses you can rustle up on this spread, but that’s as far as it goes. You aren’t going to study me."

    Are you saying you don’t obey your mother? she asked sweetly.

    That’s it, he answered, without a trace of goodwill. By then, Drake’s mood was back on a downhill slide. What was he doing out here in the damn rain, bantering with some self-proclaimed intellectual? He wasn’t just cold, tired and wet, he was hungry, since all he’d had before leaving the house this morning was a slice of toast and a cup of coffee. He’d been in a hurry to get started, and now his blood sugar had dropped to the soles of his boots, and the effect on his disposition was not pretty.

    The saddle leather creaked as he bent toward her. Listen, Ms. Whoever-you-are, I don’t give a rat’s ass about your thesis, or your theories about ranchers and wild horses, either. Do whatever it is you do, stay out of my way and try not to get yourself killed while you’re at it.

    She didn’t bat an eye. Hale, she announced brightly, as though he hadn’t spoken. My name is Lucinda Hale, but everybody calls me Luce.

    He inhaled a long, deep breath. If he’d ever had that much trouble learning a woman’s name before, he didn’t recall the occasion. Ms. Hale, then, he began, tugging at the brim of his hat in a gesture that was more automatic than cordial. I’ll leave you to it. While I’m sure your work is absolutely fascinating, not to mention vital to the future of the planet, I have plenty of my own to do. In short, while I’ve enjoyed shadowboxing with you, I’m fresh out of leisure time.

    He might’ve been talking to the barn wall. Oh, don’t worry, she said cheerfully. "I wouldn’t dream of interfering. I’ll be an observer, that’s all. Watching, figuring out how things work, making a few notes. You won’t even know I’m around."

    Drake bit back a terse reply and reined his horse away, although he didn’t use his heels. The dogs, still fascinated by the whole scenario, sat tight. "You’re right, Ms. Hale. I won’t know you’re around, because you won’t be. Not around me, that is."

    You really are a very difficult man, she observed almost sadly. Surely you can see the value of my project. Interactions between wild animals, domesticated ones and human beings?

    * * *

    LUCE WAS COLD, wet, a little amused and very intrigued.

    Drake Carson was gawking at her as though she’d just popped in from a neighboring dimension, wearing a tutu and waving a wand. His two beautiful dogs, waiting obediently for some word or gesture from their master, seemed equally curious.

    The consternation on the man’s face was absolutely priceless.

    And a very handsome face it was, at least what she could see of it, shadowed by the brim of his hat the way it was. If he resembled his younger brother, Mace, whom she’d met earlier that day,

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