Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Tanner
I met the grumpiest man on the planet and I’m head over heels in lust. No joke. Oak Ridge Ranch’s new parttime vet slash ranch hand is a bear and he’s built like one too. If I were smart, I'd keep my distance.
In a twist, I’m not so smart.
But I can tell that under his hard as nails exterior, the cowboy is a gentle giant. Axel is a devoted single dad, a dedicated vet, and…I think he likes me. Or he wants me.
I can work with that.
There’s nothing wrong with a little holiday fun, is there?
Axel
I need this job at the ranch through December, then I’m out of here. I have a kid to think of and it’s time to settle old scores and build a new life for her.
But Tanner is making things complicated. He’s smart, intuitive, and charming, and—
Whoa! I’ve learned my lesson. This is temporary and I am not Tanner’s cowboy.
I might be attracted to him, but I can handle it.
I hope.
Okay, fine. I may need some Christmas magic to get out of this with my heart in one piece. Wish me luck.
A Cowboy Holiday is an MM, bisexual romance featuring a single dad-cowboy-grump, a sweetheart of a rancher, and some holiday magic
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
TANNER
“There’s a little cowboy in all of us, a little frontier.” —Louis L’Amour
Cattle grazed in the emerald pasture, gathering in groups nearby like coworkers hanging out at a water cooler. If they’d been gossiping about office conditions, they might have had a couple of complaints, but no one could find fault in the day. The autumn breeze was crisp but not cold, the blue sky was dotted with cotton-ball clouds, and the grass was plentiful.
Not a bad situation…if you overlooked the signs of disrepair. The broken fence, the sagging porch on the house, and the eager owner who couldn’t quite hide the desperation in his tone.
“Damn fine cattle, I’m telling you, and a bargain at half the price,” Dennis bragged, tugging the brim of his trucker cap.
Dennis Tobin was a small-time farmer in his early sixties with salt-and-pepper hair, crooked yellowed teeth, and a potbelly. He claimed he and the missus wanted to sell the business, retire, and see the country in their RV. He hadn’t mentioned that his gambling habit had put him in a bind, but most folks around these parts knew Dennis had an affinity for cheap booze and high-stakes cards. And the poor guy had never learned when to walk away from either.
His bad luck might lead to some good for both of us ’cause I happened to need his cattle. They were a beautiful Holstein breed, known for their distinctive black-and-white markings and their exceptionally high milk productivity. Dennis didn’t have the resources we did at Oak Ridge Ranch, and I had a feeling these cows weren’t given the attention they needed.
“And you want to sell the entire herd?”
“Yep, the whole kit and caboodle.” Dennis propped a muddy boot on the derelict fence and slapped his knee. “I’ve got a four-year-old bull, fiftysomething cows…and at least one of them is pregnant. So fifty-two altogether.”
“Any issues I should know about?” I asked, noting that a few of the grazing cattle seemed a bit too lean.
“Nothing serious. They’re in fine enough shape.” Dennis’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “So…what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
“It’s a big investment. I’m going to need a bill of health.”
The older man frowned. “You can see they’re right as rain. Is that really necessary?”
“It sure is,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Who’s your vet?”
“I use the new guy, Axel Vogel. He’s here now, deworming some of the gals o’er at the barn if you’d like to meet him.”
“Perfect. Lead the way.”
“Uh…”
I knew Dennis was gung ho to make this sale, so I was a little surprised by his hesitation. He rubbed a palm along his thigh and released a heavy sigh.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that Axel comes with a warning label,” Dennis hedged. “Good man, but he’s a tough nut to crack.”
“How so?”
“He’s an old-fashioned cowboy, but he looks like a damn lumberjack, and he’s a prickly son of a gun.”
“Noted.” I tipped my hat against the sun’s glare and stepped away from the fence, hoping Dennis would take a hint. I didn’t have all day. I had a ranch to run, but— “Did you say cowboy? I thought he was a vet.”
“Axel’s a jack of all trades.” Dennis ambled to the path, fussing with his belt buckle as he moved…like a fucking snail. “He worked for a big cattle operation in Colorado for years and someplace out in Nevada, but he’s got a vet’s license.”
“Oh, that’s—”
“And he’s a single dad—a good one at that. He’s devoted to his daughter, Phoebe. Cute little tyke. She’s five years old, I think,” he continued in storyteller mode. “They moved to Santa Ynez this summer, and they’re renting a mobile home by the creek. Axel works part-time at the veterinary office on Main Street. That’s where we met. He keeps mostly to himself and he doesn’t say much, but when he does, he can be crusty. Don’t take offense or—ha. Never mind. I’m talking too much. Come meet him yourself.”
Buzz buzz
I slipped my cell from my pocket and peeked at the incoming text from my ex. Something about wanting to talk. Huh? About what? I ignored the message and caught up with Dennis as he rounded the faded gray barn.
Three mooing cows stood in the clearing, reminding me of old-timey commercials with talking animals. I could imagine these three at a beauty parlor, griping amongst themselves about anything from the fly situation to sore udders while the vet applied deworming fluid.
I know…silly. I’d been told I had an odd habit of anthropomorphizing my favorite animals. So what? Maybe these cows didn’t speak English, but you couldn’t convince me that they didn’t communicate. All that mooing meant something, right?
I grinned as I moved closer, petting the nearest cow’s neck. “Hey, there, beautiful. How are you—”
“Out! She’s got benzimidazole and macrocyclic lactones on her, and you’re not wearing gloves. Either suit up or step the hell away,” someone barked.