Captivating the Cowboy: Triple B Ranch Book One Read online

  Captivating the Cowboy

  Triple B Ranch, Book One

  LuAnn McLane

  Copyright © 2019 by Glenfinnan Publishing

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author and publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover provided by Wicked Smart Designs, designer Dar Albert.

  Contents

  1. Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

  2. Time to Switch to Whiskey

  3. At Seventeen

  4. Pretty Good at Drinkin’ Beer

  5. Here Comes the Sun

  6. You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

  7. Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)

  8. This Kiss

  9. Dream a Little Dream of Me

  10. All My Single Ladies

  11. Smile

  12. High Plains Drifter

  13. Yesterday

  14. With a Little Luck

  15. It’s in His Kiss

  16. What-ifs

  17. If You Believe in Magic

  18. Here Comes the Sun

  19. Dream a Little Dream of Me

  20. Kiss Me

  21. We’ve Got Tonight

  22. Worth the Wait

  23. Do You Want to Know a Secret?

  Epilogue

  Whatcha Gonna Do With a Cowboy

  About the Author

  Also by LuAnn McLane

  One

  Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

  Eager for an ice-cold beer, Ben turned his pickup truck into the parking lot of Walt’s Watering Hole, the favorite pub for locals in Hope, Colorado. The red neon sign depicting a cowboy lassoing a bull blinked a welcome that rarely failed to make Ben grin, but today was a no-grin day. After finding a spot next to his brother’s Silverado, Ben eased out of his truck and took long-legged strides up the fieldstone sidewalk leading to the pub’s entrance.

  After tugging the heavy door open, Ben pushed up the brim of his Stetson and squinted while his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. To the left, a long oak bar was already lined with thirsty customers welcoming in the weekend. In the far corner, popcorn spilled over the lid of an ancient popcorn machine, sending the buttery aroma slicing through the air. The scent of beer, burgers, and dusty leather wafted Ben’s way, a slice of heaven for hard-working ranchers at the end of the day.

  Happy hour patrons gripped longnecks while watching the Colorado Rockies baseball game on several flat-screen televisions, one of the few modern touches to the otherwise old-school honkytonk. Jukebox music, laughter, and cheers for the Rockies created that Friday feeling, and Ben knew all too well that the atmosphere would get rowdier up until last call.

  Normally, Ben and his brothers would be in the thick of the shenanigans. On a typical visit to Walt’s, he’d belly up to the bar and chew the fat with friends, take in a few innings of the game, maybe order a burger or hot wings. Later, they’d play some pool or darts then maybe get lucky.

  Ben blew out a sigh. Not today.

  Ben’s stomach did an odd little dip, and he swallowed hard, desperate for a beer. Growing impatient, he glanced around again, finally spotting Blake sitting near the back of the main room, tilting back a Coors.

  Ben’s boots clomped on the scarred hardwood floor as he made his way to the high-topped table and sat down across from Blake. “Didn’t you see me come in?”

  “Sorry.” Blake shrugged. “I was watching for ya. I must’ve gotten distracted by the game.” He lifted his cell phone from the table. “You could’ve called me.”

  “Yeah, was about ready to when I spotted you. Place is already getting packed.” Ben angled his head toward the bar and scooted his stool forward.

  “Coldest and cheapest beer in town.” Blake pointed to the can of Coors. “Just gotcha one. The Rockies are blue.”

  “Means it’s still good and cold. Still can’t figure out how they do that.” Ben looked at his can.

  “It’s some sort of special ink that makes Wilson Peak turn blue when the temperature reaches forty-five degrees,” Blake explained.

  “I prefer to believe it’s magic.”

  Blake chuckled. “Figured you’d be here soon. If not, I would’ve drunk it, no problem.”

  “Nice. Last time I checked, it was just about beer-thirty.” Ben picked up the frosty can and took a swig. “Damn, that tastes good.” Ben closed his eyes, savoring the cold, tangy fizz sliding down his throat. After another long pull, he rested his elbows on the battered tabletop scarred with cigarette burns from years gone by. “You been here long?”

  “Nope.” Blake raised his can. “First one.” Time spent at Walt’s was measured by how many beers one consumed. “If I hadn’t been watching for you and Beau to come in, I’d’ve been up there at our usual corner of the bar.”

  “Yeah, I kinda don’t like that someone else is sitting in our spot, but we don’t need big-ass ears listening in to our conversation, so sittin’ back here is fine with me.”

  Blake nodded. “I figured that too.”

  “So, where the hell is our little brother?” Ben laughed silently to himself. Little brother. At six-foot four, Beau was the tallest McCabe sibling, a fact he liked to remind them whenever he got a chance. “I thought he was riding with you.”

  “Changed his mind.” Blake shrugged. “Said he had some errands to run and would meet us here before we head back to the Triple B for whatever the hell this meeting Dad called is all about.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.” Ben gave his younger brother a pointed look before tipping his can back.

  “Yeah, well, I think Beau was fighting with Kellie and came up with the whole ‘errands’ bullshit.” Blake took a swig of beer and then adjusted the bill of his dusty John Deer baseball cap.

  “When is he not fighting with Kellie?”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately.” Ben picked up a handful of popcorn from a small bowl and tossed a few salty kernels into his mouth.

  “Apparently, Kellie wants him to put a ring on it.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen. They’ve been on and off forever.” Ben shook his head slowly. “Besides, McCabe’s don’t settle down, right?”

  “You got that right.” Blake chuckled before polishing off the rest of his beer. He put his empty can down with a tinny thump. “Wouldn’t want to ruin our reputation.”

  “Uh, I don’t think there’s any chance of that,” Ben pointed out, drawing another chuckle from Blake.

  “Ya think?”

  “Pretty much.” While they never got into any serious trouble, since their teenage years, the brothers had been well known around Hope for being on the wild side. Still, the girls loved their bad-boy swagger back in their youth. And, now, the single women in the small town of Hope, Colorado seemed to take the brothers refusal to marry as a personal challenge. “I sure as hell don’t plan on ever giving up my freedom,” Ben declared firmly.

  “Me neither.” Blake tapped his empty can to Ben’s with a solid clink.

  “Damned straight.” After glancing toward the front door, Ben took off his hat and put it on the table.

  “Damn, you get your hair cut again? Pretty soon you’ll be bald.”

  “I like it like this.” Ben ran his fingers through his dark, short-cropped hair. “And at least I don’t have a long-ass mess like you. You got a man-bun under that ballcap?”

  “Yeah, right.” Blake lifted his hat off his head, revealing shaggy brown hair streaked with blond from days spent outdoors.

  Ben pointed at Blake’s head. “Ha. Highlights. Cute.”

  “Highlights? You want an ass-kickin’?”

  “Right, like you could kick my ass,” Blake boasted, but then his expression turned serious. “Hey, what do you think this meeting with Dad is all about?”

  “Don’t have a damned clue.” Ben shrugged but felt another twinge of concern that he tried not to show.

  Blake frowned. “Really?”

  “I dunno. Finances, maybe,” Ben replied evenly but shifted in his seat.

  “Come clean. Is the Triple B in trouble?”

  “Has been for a long time. You know that.”

  Blake picked up his beer can and frowned when he realized it was empty. “Yeah, but I mean real trouble. Come on. Don’t sugarcoat the truth.”

  Ben tapped his chest. “Do I look like the kind of guy who sugarcoats?”

  “You’re a damned good expert at dodging questions.”

  “Hey, if I knew for sure, I’d give it to you straight.” Ben nibbled on the inside of his lip. His job at Triple B dude ranch centered around buying supplies and overseeing cabin rentals, but patriarch Max McCabe insisted upon keeping the books without sharing too many details. “I mean, as far as I know, all the bills are paid.”

  “You don’t sound all that positive.”

  “The cabins are nearly fully rented for the summer. How’s that for positive?”

  Blake leaned forward. “Is that enough
to keep our heads above water?”

  “Look, Blake, it’s no secret that the ranch hasn’t been the same since…” Ben swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Since Mom died.” That was when life as they knew it had shattered into a million jagged pieces. “And Dad has let the ranch slide.”

  “Yeah.” Blake lowered his eyes and played with the tab on his can. “I guess we should’ve been more on top of things.”

  “We were kids.”

  Blake looked up. “Not anymore.”

  “Dad never wanted to discuss anything about the ranch,” Ben said but felt a stab of guilt. Mired in grief, Max McCabe had hit the bottle, letting his boys run wild, and they sure as hell took advantage of it. “At one point I think he wanted to sell it.”

  “What?” Blake’s eyes widened. “Do you think that’s what this is all about? Sellin’ the Triple B?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Look, I can try to book more fishing excursions. The feisty browns and large rainbows have been bitin’.”

  Ben inclined his head. “That would help.”

  “So, do you think this meeting is about us working harder? I mean, the ranch needs some fixing up, but if there isn’t any money, what are we supposed to do?”

  “Good question,” Ben answered, glancing away. He had some suspicions that went beyond the financial situation at the ranch but couldn’t put them into words for fear he could be right.

  “Beau cooked up a mess of fish last night for the guys in cabin ten. They drank some whiskey and got a little rowdy. Maybe Dad got pissed about the noise.”

  “He didn’t say anything to me about it,” Ben replied. “But his hearing isn’t the best anymore, and the stubborn cuss refuses to get hearing aids.”

  “Yeah, you have to shout to get him to answer. Drives me nuts.” Blake crushed his beer can. “Annoying as hell.”

  “Speaking of annoying, I’m gonna shoot Beau a text. We need to be at the ranch in less than an hour. Make up sex with Kellie will have to wait.”

  “Give him some shit. ’Nother round?”

  “My turn.”

  “Nah, finish that one. I’ll get it.” Blake waved him off. “I took some money out of petty cash at the ranch. Be right back.”

  “Okay.” Ben had to grin when he saw women sizing Blake up as he approached the crowded bar area, but as usual, Blake seemed oblivious to the attention he received from the opposite sex. A cute little cowgirl with a blonde braid halfway down her back immediately scooted up next to Blake, pressing against him while he placed his order. When the sweet thing finally captured Blake’s attention, she smiled with a hint of a promise. Blake shot her a grin and bought her a drink. Twirling her braid, she accepted the bottle with a blush and a nibble on her bottom lip. Ben shook his head in wonder. Even with his shaggy hair, scruffy beard, and worn Wranglers, Blake was a chick magnet without even trying.

  “Don’t forget about my drink, little brother,” Ben muttered before typing his where-the-hell-are-you text message to Beau. Although beer made him mellow out a little, he had a sinking suspicion that the meeting might be serious. While the ranch was staying afloat, they sure as hell didn’t bring in the revenue like they used to back in the heyday, when families flocked to the Triple B for the full dude ranch experience, from horseback riding to chuckwagon dinners to singing around the campfire. As a family, they’d all worked together at the ranch and had loved every minute of it. Ben felt a familiar sinking sensation in his gut when he thought about the past. Those days were long gone.

  Ben scrubbed a hand down his face while trying to ignore the sudden ache in his throat. Although they still stabled a few horses, nowadays the Triple B catered to guys fishing in the summer and hunting in the winter. Blake guided a few fishing expeditions and taught fly fishing in the wide creek that ran through the property. They’d considered hosting an annual fishing tournament but never got past the talking stages. When the cabins were booked, Beau cooked a basic breakfast and dinner in the mess hall and provided sandwiches during lunch, while Ben kept the ranch supplied and organized. Sure, they worked, but all in all, Ben acknowledged that the McCabe brothers had a lot of loafing around time on their hands. But that’s the way they liked it, right? Why take adulting seriously if they didn’t have to?

  Absently tapping his toes to the music, Ben nodded to people he knew but didn’t get up from the table like he normally would. Of course, he would typically be up at the bar raising a little hell. He just wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and a glance at his phone told him they were starting to run short on time. Dammit. Come on, Beau.

  Feeling a flash of irritation, Ben looked toward the front door, just when Kate Brown entered the bar. When she shot him an accusatory why-haven’t-you-called-me glare, Ben quickly looked down at his cell phone to see if Beau had replied and to break eye contact. He glanced up in time to see Kate give him a lift of her chin and a flip of her wavy brown hair. Setting her shoulders, she sashayed over to the bar, where she bent over to hang her purse on a hook.

  Despite his unsettled mood, Ben still grinned when Kate took her time, giving him a lingering view of her very fine ass poured into skin-tight jeans. For a second, he was tempted to head her way and buy her a beer, knowing he’d want some down and dirty relief after the meeting concluded. And Kate could sure as hell provide it. Ben’s body responded to the hot memory of how wild she was in bed, but she’d started to cling, and Ben didn’t do clingy. He didn’t do commitment, period. And she knew that little detail.

  While Kate didn’t turn around to seek him out, Ben noticed her looking into the mirror above the bar. When Kate’s gaze connected with is, Ben quickly glanced away, but not before seeing her back stiffen as she signaled for a drink. A moment later Kate tossed back a shot, most likely tequila. Clearing his throat, Ben felt a twinge of guilt but then shook it off. Well, mostly, anyway. Dammit, he’d made his position on marriage to her very clear. Kate needed to move on or accept what they had for what it was: physical attraction. Nothing more, and it never would be.

  Ben finished the last of his beer and blew out a sigh. Damn, he needed another cold one, but he wasn’t about to head up to the bar and risk having to engage in idle conversation or the wrath of a clingy Kate, so he’d just have to sit back and wait for Blake.

  At thirty-three, the whole staying single plan was starting to hit some serious snags. For one, the playing field in a small town like Hope, Colorado was starting to dwindle. Weddings seemed to be happening every damned weekend. Pretty soon, he’d have to start dipping into the younger pool of women. But the thought of dating a woman several years younger than him might be challenging in ways he didn’t want to think about. Damn, he was getting old—and getting older by the minute while waiting for his beer!

  “Dammit, Blake.” Ben scooted his stool back, ready to head to the bar, when he saw Beau finally make his entrance. “’Bout time.” Thankfully, Beau spotted Blake at the bar and headed that direction. Hopefully, in a couple of minutes he’d have another frosty Coors in his hand.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ben spotted a gorgeous little redhead heading his way. Although she wore faded jeans and a Colorado Rockies t-shirt, she somehow stood out in the crowd.

  “This seat taken?” she asked in a breezy tone, a slight smile playing at her lips.

  Normally, Ben would have said, “Yeah, by you,” but instead he forced himself to nod. “Sorry,” he replied, thinking there was something about her that felt slightly familiar. “My brothers are up at the bar and will be back soon.”

  “Mm.” She pressed her lips together. “Okay, I just needed another stool at my table.” She turned to walk away, but Ben felt the need to stop her.

  “Hey, do I know you?” Ben asked, hating that the question sounded like a lame pickup line. He had better game than that.

  “Uh, yeah, you do, Ben.” She pinned him with her green eyes but failed to give him even the slightest hint of who she was.