Texas-Sized Secrets

Texas-Sized Secrets
Elle James

At five months pregnant, Mona Grainger was facing danger on all fronts.With cattle rustlers driving her ranch to ruin, she needed a man ready for long hours and hard work. Enter Reed Bryson, who could ride, rope, kiss…and certainly handle a gun. His new boss may have depended on him more than she'd liked, but Reed wasn't hired to do her dirty work. She could do that herself.He was there to defend her land and cool down the hot-headed sheriff, whose advances threatened everything Mona held dear. Now the lone cowboy had more than his honor to uphold–he had a petite, pregnant powerhouse running his senses wild.

Texas-Sized Secrets

Elle James

To Megan Kerans, thanks for sending me the article about

cattle rustling. Thanks to all my family and friends who

help feed my writing habit with great new ideas.

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

Wanted: Cowboy. Must be able to ride, rope and fence. Can’t be afraid of hard work and long hours. Most of all, must know how to handle a gun. Position considered dangerous. See M. Grainger at the Rancho Linda.

The want ad sounded more like something out of the Wild West, not the new millennium. Who the hell advertised for a hired gun in this day and age? And how many nutcases would come out of the hills in response?

Reed Bryson stared one last time at the crumpled paper before he stepped down from his truck. Jobs were scarce in Briscoe County. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of choices.

For the second time this year he was interviewing for work. Although he’d gone thirteen years without riding a horse, he knew he’d have no trouble riding. Roping would come back, and moving cattle was as natural as breathing to him despite the time lapse. He met all the requirements of the job notice he’d picked up at Dee’s Diner. Even the last one. Twelve years on the Chicago police force had honed his ability to fire a gun and to know when.

A shiny white dually stood next to his truck with Teague Oil & Gas printed on the doors. He’d seen the truck in Prairie Rock over the past couple months. Oil speculators were as thick as horseflies in the panhandle.

He settled his Stetson on his head and strode to the two-story, white, wood frame house. It probably dated back to the nineteenth century, with its wide wraparound porches, tall windows and doors designed to catch the breeze. A place built for air movement back when air conditioners weren’t yet invented.

The front door was open, with the screen door firmly in place to keep the pesky horseflies out.

When Reed raised his hand and knocked, two men in tailored business suits appeared in the doorway.

“We’ll be back tomorrow same time. Hopefully, Grainger can meet with us then.” They stepped through the screen, each running a narrow-eyed glance over Reed as they descended from the porch without so much as a howdy-do. They climbed into the pickup and drove off, leaving a trail of dust floating over the prairie grass.

Footsteps echoed in the foyer and a short, plump Hispanic woman smiled a greeting. “Buenos días, señor.”

“Habla inglés?”

“Sí. I speak very good English. What can I do for you?” Her English was excellent and laced with a charming hint of Mexican accent. She opened the door and held it with her hip while she dried wet hands on her apron.

“I’m here to see Mr. Grainger about the job.”

The woman’s gaze followed the dually as it left. When the oilmen disappeared out of sight, she switched her perusal to him, her glance traveling from hat to boots before she spoke again. “Check with my husband down by the barn. He’ll know where to find the boss.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“De nada.”

As Reed rounded the corner of the house, he could feel the woman’s gaze following him. He couldn’t blame her. After the oil speculators’ visit, he’d be cautious too, as he was with all salesmen.

The barn stood two hundred yards from the house. As Reed approached, a dark-haired, dark-skinned man led a bay mare out of the building. The man stopped as he cleared the doorway and turned to adjust the saddle girth beneath the horse’s belly.

“Excuse me.” Reed slowed as he approached.

The man looked up and nodded, but continued tightening the strap.

“I’m looking for Mr. Grainger. I’m here about the job.”

The man’s brows rose up his forehead. “I’m going there now. Saddle up, you can come along.” He led Reed into the dark interior of the barn and stopped in front of the second stall. A black horse with a white star on his forehead leaned over the stall door. “You ride Diablo.”

When Reed hesitated, the man smiled.

“Don’t worry. His name is worse than his reputation.” A chuckle echoed through the interior of the big barn.