Excerpt from THE RAMBLER'S BRIDE by New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Linda Goodnight
So that's where she lived-the harlot who had killed his brother.
Jericho North shifted in the well-worn saddle and stared down upon the small ranch spread in the valley below, his lip curled in loathing for the woman he'd never met. He'd warned Silas against her, hadn't he? He'd done his best to stop his brother's foolish decision. And now Silas was as dead as Jericho's insides.
Beneath him the paint horse stomped, blowing nostril smoke into the chill March afternoon as if to question his master's pause. A swirl of wood smoke rose from the cabin into the slate gray heavens, the promised warmth a lure. Like the woman had been to his brother.
For a hundred miles or more he'd considered exactly what he'd do when he arrived at Silas's homestead on the Kansas prairie. He still didn't know if he'd stay. One thing for certain, the harlot had to go.
While he squinted, thinking, a red roan horse came into sight and stopped in front of the log cabin. A woman came out onto the porch, hugging a blue shawl to her chest. Esther. The harlot.
Anger unfurled inside him, a snake ready to strike. He'd been angry so long he didn't know how to feel anything else.
A man in a suit and black bowler dismounted and approached the porch. He grasped the woman's arm and she shrank back, resistant.
Jericho frowned, more interested than he wanted to be.
Leaning forward in the saddle, he squinted hard, saw the woman struggle against the man's superior grip. Struggle and fail. Jericho should be happy to see her in trouble but he wanted to be the cause. Not some dandy in a black bowler.
Whatever the dandy wanted couldn't be as troubling as the news Jericho carried inside the pocket of his duster.
A grim smile flickered.
A man against a woman. He didn't like the odds. Might as well make it two.
He clicked his tongue softly and tapped his heels to the strong brown flanks that had carried him hundreds of miles for this moment.
Time for a reckoning.
***
Excerpt from LOVEBIRDS AT THE HEARTBREAK CAFE by USA TODAY bestselling author Janet Tronstad
July 1958
A fly buzzed outside the screened window of the Heartbreak Cafe while, inside, a truck driver named Buddy Hamilton sat in a worn booth and nursed his tall glass of lemonade. He'd seen the Waitress Wanted sign in the café window for the past month, but he hadn't paid it much attention. Jobs were scarce, but working at the Heartbreak couldn't be anyone's dream come true.
Besides, the place with its white and black cracked linoleum and slow-moving ceiling fan was practically deserted. Right now, it was only him and another trucker - a man he called Shades in honor of the movie star sunglasses he wore. Buddy and Shades never spoke, but they nodded hello and good-bye the way truckers did with each other.
Buddy was starting to stand up and make his farewell nod to the other man when the door opened.
Whoa, he thought, as he stood there, trying to keep his mouth from hanging open. A gorgeous blonde woman stepped into the cafe. Well, not so much stepped as bounced. Then she stopped and pointed at the waitress ad with a red-tipped finger. Buddy had always been a sucker for polished nails on a beautiful woman.
"Well, hello there," he said in his friendliest voice.
She smiled back at him and his heart raced.
He was trying to think of something clever to say when Fred Norris, the middle-aged owner of the cafe, came out of the kitchen and saw her. Bubby couldn't help but notice Fred's appreciative look turn a little sour when he saw where she was pointing. The man always said he didn't hire young women because they didn't stay on the job and this one looked like she couldn't be much past twenty-one. Still, Fred set down the coffee pot he had been carrying and motioned for the woman to take a seat.
Buddy sat back down, figuring he should stay around to console the woman when Fred refused to hire her. She was a looker, all right. Now that he saw her up close, he could see she was more wholesome than he'd first thought with her shining golden hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and the ends of her white long-sleeved shirt knotted tight around the waist of her denim jeans.
Her cheeks were rosy and Buddy didn't think she was wearing any makeup. But then he could never tell those things. He did notice she had a bit of what looked like grape jelly on one cuff of that blouse of hers. She probably didn't even know it was there.
***
Excerpt from HER MULE HOLLOW COWBOY by #1 Amazon bestselling author Debra Clopton
Buford snorted, sending Maddie Rose instantly on alert. She knew the ornery hunk of steaks could make mincemeat out of her if he chose.
He chose.
One powerful kick sent the gate slamming into Maddie. A scream ripped from her as the bone-crunching impact knocked her off her feet. Flying backwards like a rag doll, she slammed into the pipe fence. Pain exploded, glazing everything as it seared through her, dazing her.
Got to stay on your feet.
The gate swung away from her and instinct had Maddie clawing, grasping for its rungs.
Stay off the ground or be trampled.
Bufford kicked the gate again, and this time, Maddie's breath whooshed from her and she hit the ground instantly.
Right in Buford's path.
She landed face first in the dirt. Wheezing, she willed herself to move. To breathe.
But, as she'd been unable to help herself all those years ago when she was a sickly abandoned baby, she was helpless now.
Suddenly, boots attached to denim-clad legs thudded to the ground between her and Buford.
"Yah," yelled the cowboy, planting himself directly in the line of danger as the bull bolted from the trailer like a runaway tank.
Where the cowboy had come from, Maddie didn't know, but from her position he looked like a gift dropped straight from heaven.
"Go on, now," he yelled, stomping and waving his arms he held his ground.
Buford cut sharply to the right, away from Maddie.
Relief surged through her as the cowboy herded the bull into the holding pen then dropped to his knees beside her.
"Here you go," he drawled, easing her to her side. "Try to relax. Come on now, go easy."
She struggled to relax and the breaths got easier, though there was a sharp edge to each one if she inhaled too deeply. "Thank. You," she managed, smiling weakly.
He didn't smile back. Concern etched his rugged, handsome face. "Glad I was here. How are you now?"
Maddie's pulse fluttered, she was mesmerized by his penetrating indigo eyes. Flustered, she rubbed her ribs, winching. "Like I've been kicked by a two-thousand-pound bull."
His soft chuckle sank over her like warm honey.
"You may have broken some ribs," he said kindly, then demanded, "What were you doing out here by yourself in the first place?"
"Loading a bull," she retorted, humiliated. This cowboy probably thought she was some greenhorn who didn't know beans about bulls or cattle.
She struggled to sit up without groaning. Honestly, she was feeling better--but who wouldn't? Her cowboy rescuer would make any woman forget she'd been almost stomped to a pulp--even her.
Those eyes of his were lethal weapons.
The guy was gorgeous--even oxygen deprived and in pain as she'd been, she'd realized that immediately. Touchable dark hair curled from beneath his straw hat and enhanced his firm, chiseled jaw. His high cheekbones underlined those penetrating, strength filled, blue eyes.
He flashed an enticing crooked grin. "You're one tough lady, Maddie Rose."
Maddie got hung-up on that smile--suddenly thinking about long, slow kisses... There was an understandable delay in her fogged brain relaying the message that he knew her name...
***
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