Midlife Menage

Ride 'em Hard 5

Midlife Ménage Wendy McCay is a forty-four-year-old mother of four grown children. She hides behind her widow status every time her wealthy neighbor, Wade Laweson, shows interest in her. He's a constant temptation, but she feels her time for love is over. When she has to take on a boarder after a drought destroys her wheat crop, her control is tested having Jackson Taylor, a strapping, young rodeo rider, under her roof. He is impulsive, passionate, and makes her feel young again. With both men turning on the charm, insisting she accept the wanton woman waiting to be freed, she's in for a losing battle. Will she be able to give her guarded heart over to both men and find a new happily ever after? Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among the men. Genre: May-December, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys Length: 42,891 words

MIDLIFE MÉNAGE Ride ’em Hard 5

Stacey Espino

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

MIDLIFE MÉNAGE Copyright © 2012 by Stacey Espino E-book ISBN: 1-61926-389-0 First E-book Publication: March 2012 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Midlife Ménage by Stacey Espino from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Stacey Espino’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Espino’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION It’s never too late to start over.

MIDLIFE MÉNAGE Ride ’em Hard 5 STACEY ESPINO Copyright © 2012

Chapter One Wendy McCay had lived through the Alberta drought of 2002, but seeing her fields scorch under the cloudless sky still sent a shiver of fear through her heart. The wheat surrounded her, the wind caressing it like an ocean wave. In the blink of an eye, all her hard work could be snatched away, leaving her near bankruptcy. She’d come close to praying, but Wendy had lost faith decades ago. Her house was only a speck on the horizon. She had been walking through her fields for an hour, assessing the damage, and wondering how much longer it would take before the crop was a complete writeoff. While the northern province suffered from flooding, their land slowly turned to dust. Surely it would rain soon. But in the meantime she had to prepare for the worst. For the first time since she took over sole responsibility for her ranch and children, she was going to take on a boarder. Wendy’s eldest daughter had moved out when she married. Bradley had left nearly two years ago. It was just her and her two daughters, Kylie and Christine, and even they had plans to spread their wings. She didn’t like the idea of a drifter sniffing around her two remaining girls. They were twenty-two and twenty-four, with God-given beauty. But with the unforgiving weather, she had to

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secure a second source of income. Only a fool failed to prepare for hard times. They weren’t too far from the rodeo epicenter, so finding a cowboy looking for seasonal lodgings only took her one visit to the local feedstore. The stranger would arrive before dinner. She hadn’t even met the man, but she already disliked him. Renting out a part of her family home made her feel like a failure, unable to provide for her girls like she should. No man, besides her son, had stepped foot in the house since her husband died. Her friends and neighbors warned her about allowing a drifter access to her home. They weren’t to be trusted, traveling the circuit with only the clothes on their backs and a death wish. But Wendy knew how to use a rifle, and her guard dogs were well trained, not taking a liking to men. Her bedroom was on the main level next to the spare she’d cleared out, her daughters safely upstairs with locks on their doors. It would be a sacrifice, but on the open land Mother Nature called the shots. She pinched the tip of a wheat blade, breaking it apart between her fingers. This was her land, the one built on her blood, sweat, and tears. She’d never sell, even if she had to rent out every room in the house and sleep in the hayloft. The heat radiated down on her, beads of sweat rolling past her temples. She rolled her hair into a loose knot and secured it at the back of her head in hopes of getting a little breeze to cool her neck. Whenever she felt particularly cornered, fears overpowering her strengths, she escaped into the fields on foot or horseback. She’d remind herself she’d been through it all—hell and back. One ruined season couldn’t bring her down, couldn’t break her spirit. If she stayed at home when despair threatened to unravel her, Kylie and Christine would likely feel her black mood, and her goal was to bring those girls up with love and security—both things she lacked. It was bad enough their father had been stolen from them as young children, they didn’t deserve to suffer more, needlessly.

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After arriving back at the house, Wendy pushed open the whiny screen door to the kitchen, one of the dogs racing by her legs. “Where’s your sister at?” she asked Christine. “The cow’s out of the pen and probably in the garden. I don’t want the milk tasting like onion again this week.” Christine stirred the evening stew at the stove, the rich scent of beef, carrots, and cabbage weighing heavily in the air. “She went into town to meet Jason.” “For the love of God, I told her to stay away from him! You didn’t think to stop her?” Wendy kicked off her boots and stormed through the house. She thought she’d done well playing mother and father over the years, but apparently her youngest still had daddy issues. Kylie was a natural-blonde beauty with the entire world ahead of her, but she stubbornly continued to date the town’s biggest asshole. He’d struck her daughter once, and Wendy had paid him a visit and threatened to shoot his balls off. As far as she knew, he hadn’t hit Kylie again, but that didn’t make him a good man. He was an unemployed, worthless drunk. Why couldn’t her daughter realize what a mistake it was to date him? She deserved better, the best. If Bradley had been home, he’d never have put up with his sister running wild. The girls were too old for Wendy to turn over her knee, and with the combined issues on the farm, she felt the control over her life quickly slipping away. Kylie used to respect her wishes, now she just went behind her back. Once in her bedroom, Wendy tugged off her sweat-damp T-shirt and tossed it in the hamper. She looked in the mirror above her dresser, staring into her eyes, and reaching for all the inner strength she could muster. Not only was her wheat crop in jeopardy, but she’d started her own small apple orchard two years ago, and the young trees were still fragile. Now it seemed her own daughter was against her, determined to ruin her young life. Despite the heat, they had no luxuries like air-conditioning, just open windows. She could hear the gravel crunching outside,

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signalling a vehicle pulling up to the house. Wendy pulled out a clean shirt from her drawer, tugged it on, and headed to the front door to confront her wayward daughter. She pushed open the wooden door leading to the old, wraparound porch. The vehicle wasn’t the one she expected. Wendy didn’t get many visitors, and since her mood was already foul, this stranger better not be bringing bad news. “Afternoon, ma’am.” The young cowboy tilted his hat, a broad smile on his lips. “What can I help you with?” she asked, leaning against the support pillar of the porch. Two of her three dogs came around the side of the house barking and growling as he walked toward the porch. “Settle!” “I’m Jackson Taylor. I spoke with you about renting a room for the summer. Mrs. McCay, I assume?” This was her boarder? He wasn’t what she’d expected from a rodeo drifter, but she wouldn’t complain about this good fortune. Rather than a washed-up cowboy with poor hygiene, he was downright good to look at. She anticipated having to worry about her daughters making trouble now, rather than her boarder. He didn’t look much older than Bradley. It would be like having another son around the house, minus the help around the farm. Her nerves settled slightly, feeling no threat from the young cowboy despite his size. Still, he was hours early, and she still had much to do in preparation. “You’re early,” she said flatly. “I had an easy drive and thought I’d be best to settle in. I have an early start in the morning. Hope you don’t mind.” She exhaled, wanting to scold him, but his manners stole her steam. “I’ll have my daughter bring you some ice water. You can have a seat on the porch until your room is ready.” Wendy knew she’d be wise to display a tough-as-nails bravado in case the cowboy had any inkling of taking advantage of her.

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He was certainly handsome and clean cut. His teeth were healthy and white, and face recently shaven. Maybe she wouldn’t have to sleep with one eye open. “Christine, our boarder’s here,” she said as she hurried into the kitchen. “Bring a glass of cool water out for him. I have to get the clean sheets off the line.” “But the stew—” “Never mind that now. It’ll take you but two minutes to do as you’re told. And mind your manners with our guest. He’s the reason we’ll be having food on the table the next three months.” Christine set the stew to simmer and placed the ladle in a bowl. After brushing her hands out on her apron, she reached for a glass on the highest shelf of the cupboard where they kept the rarely used good dishes. She was a sweet girl, always obedient. Kylie had been no different until recently, until Jason came into her life. There was a gentle breeze out back in the shade of the barn. She gathered her wicker basket and climbed the footstool to reel in the white sheets. The scent of laundry detergent still clung to them. She tossed the clothes pegs into the bucket on the ground, but had difficulty folding the sheet, trying to keep it from touching the ground. Her daughters usually handled the cooking and chores around the house, while Wendy did the man’s work—farming, animal care, and trading. She’d single-handedly started her apple orchard. It had been nightmarish getting it started, but it was now her pride and joy. “Can I help you?” She whirled around, nearly falling off her wooden stool. The sound of a man’s deep voice was unfamiliar to her at home. It would take some time to get used to it. Jackson had walked around the side of the house, her best crystal in hand. Her traitorous dogs were trailing behind him looking for attention rather than keeping on guard. “I’m fine, thank you. As soon as I make your bed, you can start to get settled. You’ll have to share a bathroom—we only have the one.

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Christine will make sure you get three full meals a day, and there are plenty of apples in the orchard.” “You’re very gracious. I’ll try not to get underfoot.” He ducked under the clothesline, staring out into her wheat fields. “Nice piece of land you have here.” “Been in our family for generations.” “It’s impressive.” He tilted his head back and took a drink of his water, the ice clinking against the glass as he finished it off. “Your daughter’s very nice.” Her hackles rose. Her biggest concern when taking a strange male into her house was the safety of her girls, or now, their chastity. “Yes, she’s a good girl.” He turned his head, the bright light forcing him to squint those striking blue eyes. “She looks like you.” Wendy hurried to fold the remaining linens, not comfortable socializing with this man she knew so little about. Her life was work and survival, no time for friends and entertainment. With the recent drought, she had even less time to concern herself with the affairs of others. She stepped off the stool and hooked the basket on her hip. After taking just two steps, he reached out and took the laundry from her. “I’ll trade you.” He winked, handing her the glass. Wendy wasn’t used to male gallantry, but didn’t complain. Living as a cowgirl all her life, men treated her like one of the guys. They walked side by side around to the front of the house. “So, how long have you been rodeo riding?” “Since my twentieth birthday. I promised my mother to wait until then. She didn’t want me to follow in my daddy’s footsteps, but the rodeo’s in my blood.” The lure of the rodeo never tempted Wendy. She was satisfied working her land, raising her family. Life was different now with her youngest being an adult. Wendy’s role was changing, making her feel less needed, more lost than she’d been since losing her husband. What

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was the point of it all? Each day was no different than the last. When she wasn’t working her fingers to the bone, she was sitting in the hayloft reflecting on the life passing her by. Even her daughters were moving on, spending more time with friends, and not interested in continuing the legacy of the McCay family business. Once she died, she imagined the property would be sold off to the highest bidder, and the money distributed amongst her four children. Jackson followed her into the house, removing his boots after she did. She’d asked him to wait on the porch, but the boy had a mind of his own. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, pulling out the twin sheet and shaking it out over the stripped bed. “Let me help.” He grabbed the two opposite corners, and together they made the bed, fitted the two pillows with cases, and loaded up the blanket box with extra linen. It was refreshing dealing with a man who didn’t think he was above women’s work. When they were done, she brushed her hand through her hair, feeling the effects of the heat on her body. She needed a tall glass of water herself. It didn’t take much to get dehydrated in hot, dry conditions like these. “It’s a scorcher,” he said, watching her movements from the other side of the room. “Is there a place I could take a shower? I’m dusty and sweaty from traveling all day. I don’t want to show up to the dinner table looking a mess.” “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Hot water tank has been acting up, so I hope you like cold showers.” “On a day like today, I welcome it.” Jackson smiled, tossing his Stetson on the bed. Then he untucked his shirt from his pants, yanking it over his head. He paused, looking around for a place to put his dirty clothes. Stripping down in front of her didn’t faze him, but her blood turned to ice, and then molten lava in the blink of an eye. The thoughts in her head were impure and unhealthy. Her boarder was much too young for her to visualize in a sexual manner. She reached out a hand. “Here, I’ll take it.”

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“No, no. I can wash my own clothes. I’m used to doing things for myself.” He balled the shirt up and placed it on the dresser. The man was golden from head to waistline, all hard-packed, lean muscle. She assumed all her feelings for him would be asexual since he was around her son’s age, but there was no comparison. Her attraction for the young cowboy was instantaneous. She briefly studied his broad shoulders and ripped abs before forcing herself to look elsewhere. It had literally been decades since she was widowed, never taking on a boyfriend or lover in all that time. She remained faithful, even in death. The only time she’d been tempted before was by her neighbor, Wade, but she just avoided him, which worked out well. As long as she isolated herself on her ranch, she could keep the memories of the past intact, untainted. But temptation had shown up on the doorstep. Now what? Was it a midlife crisis causing the sudden butterflies in her stomach? She thought her libido had died long ago. “Christine will call you when the stew’s ready,” she blurted as she fumbled to get herself out the door with the basket at the same time. He called out after her, oblivious to her inner turmoil and pounding heart. “My favorite.”

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Chapter Two Jackson looked around the small room once Mrs. McCay left him alone. It was clean and basic, no less than he’d expected. A single bed, dresser, nightstand, and blanket box—all in mismatched wood and styles. The window was open, the heavy curtains parted to let the meagre breeze into the room. It was simple living, but he wasn’t one to complain. The family seemed nice enough, and he’d been a boarder a hundred times during his travels. The McCay daughter was a beauty, with pixy-like qualities, but her mother took the prize. Her paleblonde hair was just past her shoulders, and her feline-shaped eyes the bluest of all blue. He scolded himself for checking out her curves in those tight jeans because she was a married woman. Jackson was no home wrecker, but he still couldn’t help his immediate attraction to the country woman. Even when he’d taken off his shirt, she didn’t bat a lash. He was used to the buckle bunnies chasing after him at events, begging for his affection. They were young with big tits and superficial smiles. He bored of fast women around the same time he began to tire of a life on the road. But he was following a great tradition of rodeo riders, and wouldn’t give up because of his weakness for craving roots. A stable life was not in the cards for him, and he expected to meet his maker in the ring like his father. A man’s death, one of honor. After his shower, he returned to his room and lay down for a few minutes, not expecting to doze off. The next thing he knew there was a knock on the door. He sat to attention, slightly confused as he

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reentered the world of the waking. It seemed every time he woke up he was in a new bed, until he didn’t know if he was coming or going. “Mister. My ma told me to fetch you for dinner.” It was the daughter. She had blemish-free skin and a thin, dainty figure. A vision of innocence, everything the women on the road weren’t. But he only saw the childish side of her looks—the soft curve of her cheeks, tight skin, and youth. He could never be attracted to someone who reminded him of a girl just off the cusp of puberty, even though he suspected she was in her twenties. But, damn, her mother had mature, sculpted features. There was history written on her skin and knowledge in her eyes. She’d be able to handle herself in difficult situations, not needing to ask a man for help. Her inner strength and outer beauty drew him to her. Stupid. She wasn’t his to claim or consider. “Well, thank you for the wake-up call. I didn’t catch your name…” “Christine McCay.” “Jackson Taylor,” he returned. “You tell her I’ll be there in two minutes.” He smiled, but she only rushed away, reserved like her mother. After slipping on a fresh button-up from his travel bag, he followed the smell of savory stew to the kitchen. Three women sat around an old country table, battered and dinged from age. It reminded him of the one in his childhood home. He briefly glanced around the kitchen. Herbs were hanging in bunches on hooks near the window above the sink. Cast-iron pans and steel pots hung from an extension lowered from the rafters. “Ladies.” “Please, have a seat, Mr. Taylor. This is my daughter, Kylie, and you’ve met her sister, Christine.” “Yes, ma’am.” He sat at an empty seat across from Mrs. McCay. He didn’t even know her first name, but supposed it wasn’t appropriate to call her by it anyway. “Is your husband not joining us?”

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The two girls froze in place, the soft tink of cutlery hitting china suddenly ceasing. “No, he won’t be. Not tonight.” “That’s too bad. I guess I’ll meet him after my event tomorrow. I won’t be too late. This week I’m just registered in some barrel racing.” He began to eat the food served to him since nobody seemed interested in conversation. It tasted like heaven after his usual diet from greasy spoons. The two girls resembled their mother with remarkable similarity, but age had been kind to his hostess. She didn’t look old enough to have two grown daughters. The woman had a raw sensuality to her, full lips, mature features. Her fingers were long and tapered, her breasts small and perky, and hips strong like a woman’s should be. He had to get his illicit thoughts in check because he was developing an instant crush on the beauty in front of him. She had a quiet strength about her, a guarded vulnerability that he was tempted to discover. They finished dinner in silence, and then he excused himself. He wandered around the back of the house, enjoying the twilight and symphony of insects around him. Out on the prairies night was night. As soon as the last remnants of color in the sky faded, he wouldn’t be able to see his hand in front of his face. Jackson dug in his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes and lit up after striking his match several times. He exhaled, the drag calming him further, and cloud of smoke mingling with the moonlit shadows. “Don’t mind our mother,” said the female voice. He searched the dimness along the rear of the house and found Kylie standing there, a shawl around her shoulders. “She’s not exactly Martha Stewart when it comes to guests, but she means well.” “She’s been perfect,” he said. He prayed to God the youngest daughter wasn’t out here to hit on him. It would make a mess of the living situation, and he’d likely feel obligated to leave. “You don’t have to lie.” She chuckled to herself. “She’s bitter about a lot of things, especially men.”

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“Oh?” He took another drag before giving the girl his full attention. “She’s a widow, has been nearly all my life. It’s what we all wanted growing up. You know…not having to worry about a new man taking our father’s place. I can’t even remember him because I was only a baby when he passed, but it was the point. But now that we’re older I hate the thought of her being all alone in this big, old house. There’re just the two of us left, and even that’s temporary.” “I didn’t know. She never even told me she was a widow.” “She thinks it’s best if you believe there’s a man around somewhere. That woman thinks the worst of everyone.” He shrugged. An easy life didn’t make hardened women like Mrs. McCay. He wouldn’t dare judge her, knowing she single-handedly raised her children and maintained a sizable farm. “I’m sure she’s just looking out for you and your sister.” A screen door whined in the near distance. Kylie whispered, “See you around.” Then she snuck off around the other side of the house as quiet as a mouse. Jackson stomped out his cigarette, looked up at the moon, and then closed his eyes briefly. That celestial icon in the sky was the only thing of stability in his life, the only thing he could count on besides himself. “Nice evening.” That voice. It was feminine with a sexy, husky quality. At first he chided himself for his instant attraction, until he recalled her daughter’s words. Mrs. McCay was a widow, and very much on the market should he decide to make an advance. He’d never been attracted to older women. Most of his past girlfriends had been around his age, but never anything serious. He avoided stability like the plague, terrified to leave a woman in despair if anything happened to him in the ring. Jackson still remembered the years of suffering his mother endured after his father’s untimely death. Did Mrs. McCay remind him of his mother? Did he crave to be dominated by a woman? Or was it simple attraction, maybe even love at first sight?

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“It certainly is lovely.” She stepped closer, spotting the dying embers of his cigarette on the dry grass near his foot. “You shouldn’t smoke,” she said, grinding her boot into the butt. “Not only is it bad for your health, it’s downright dangerous in a drought like this. I know of less things to spark a prairie fire.” “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.” The moonlight reflected off the whites of her eyes and natural highlights in her hair. Her skin was flawless in this lighting, like a porcelain doll. But even in the light of day with faint lines around her eyes, and freckles spattering the bridge of her nose, she was a welcome sight. “I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, we haven’t had rain for weeks. When you add record high temperatures, it makes life downright difficult for those who depend on the land. Sometimes being a farmer is a curse. I can imagine hell being similar to this—the heat, the stress, the despair.” He could hear the worry in her voice even though she tried to speak flatly as if telling a story unrelated to her. “So who helps you run things around here, besides your…husband?” Would she ever offer up the truth to him? He’d just arrived, so couldn’t expect her to trust him. There were plenty of no-good cowboys traveling the circuit, but Jackson liked to think he wasn’t one of them. He believed in the morals his parents taught him, a cowboy code of honor. Never raise a hand to a woman, never steal, and your word was better than gold. “Kylie’s starting college in September, then it’ll be just me and Christine…and my husband.” He nodded, holding back his smile at her near slip. “While I’m here, I’ll do my best to help out. I know my way around a working ranch.”

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“No need. I’ve managed this long without any help.” She started to return to the house, calling back over her shoulder. “Will you be here for breakfast?” “Don’t bother getting up for me. I’ll be leaving at seven.” She chuckled, a sound he didn’t think she was capable of. “This ain’t the city, Mr. Taylor. Breakfast is at five.” Then she continued on her way, becoming consumed by shadows. Jackson laughed quietly to himself. Mrs. McCay was a real country woman if ever he met one. She wouldn’t need a man to open her pickle jar. But he liked that about her. His self-esteem wasn’t low enough that he needed to dominate in a relationship. Of course a romantic bond for a drifter was unrealistic. He kicked at the burnt grass where he’d tossed his cigarette, wishing he could take one more drag to help vanquish the inevitability of his love life. **** Wendy had served the boarder breakfast at first light, then she was off to do her list of duties around the farm. There was no time to be sitting around chatting, no matter how polite and friendly the young cowboy appeared to be. She had to slaughter three chickens for dinner so Christine could get the soup prepared when she got home from school. Then she had to head off to the feedstore. Money was always tight. She couldn’t remember a year prosperous enough where she didn’t have to count her pennies. Some days she was tempted to throw in the towel, fantasizing of her knight in shining armor coming to take her to a life a peace and security. That fictitious knight was never her dead husband, and that alone bothered her. Dust billowed around her truck as she navigated the dirt back roads. Everything was burning up under the dry heat with no reprieve in sight thanks to another cloudless day. She’d seen Jackson head out before she left. If she hadn’t, she knew she’d worry about him

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stealing something from her, not that she had anything much of value. Trust had to be earned, no matter how deceptively innocent a man appeared. Wendy pulled into the parking lot of the feedstore. She needed enough supplies to get her through the next couple weeks. With only chickens, a cow, and a few horses, she didn’t need much, but costs had risen on everything. Wendy had succumbed to making her own soap, finances were so tight. She pushed open the glass door, the familiar rustic scent hitting her as she entered. “Mornin’, Wendy. What can I get for you?” asked Phil, the owner of the store. He’d known her since her husband was alive. His parents handed the business over to him years ago after they retired. She’d much rather give business to the small family businesses rather than the big feed distribution centers, even if they cost slightly more. Some things were more important than money, like loyalty. “I need my usual feed and a bag of lime.” She wandered around the store while he spoke with some other customers. The new tack displayed on the side wall called to her. She examined the shiny metal and lush leather, dreaming of the things she could never afford. She’d mended the cinch and girth straps on her saddle so many times they were practically held together by the fishing line she used as thread. “We’re all set, Wendy.” She hadn’t realized how long she’d been standing there daydreaming. The two customers that were at the counter were gone. She approached the counter. “Thanks, Phil. How much do I owe you?” He leafed through his aged black ledger. “Including today’s order, just over six hundred dollars.” Six hundred dollars may as well been six million when she had so little to her name. How could she ask for more credit? But she didn’t have the money to clear up her account, especially when her harvest wasn’t even guaranteed at this point. She stalled, fiddling with the basket of hoof picks on the counter. Wendy didn’t want charity, but more time, or maybe a miracle.

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“The weather affecting your crops?” he asked. “I’m hearing many locals have been hit hard from the drought.” She nodded. “Don’t know how much longer my wheat will last until it’s not worth milling.” Wendy came prepared to pay for the day’s order, but not the whole bill. It wasn’t Phil’s fault she was suffering. He had to make a living like everyone else. She decided she’d have to sell one of her geldings to get caught up on her bills, and give her some wiggle room until hard times passed. The thought of giving up one of her three horses was heartbreaking because they really were like family. “It’s hard times all around. I don’t expect you’ll be paying in full today. Just give me whatever you can.” She took a cleansing breath to vanquish the emotion bubbling to the surface. “I can pay two hundred today, but I’ll be in before the month’s through to pay off the remainder.” A new voice drawled from her side. “You need help, darlin’?” How could she not have heard the bells chime on the glass or those heavy cowboy boots cross the wooden floor? Even that familiar chink of his spurs should have pulled her from her worries. “No, I’m just fine, thank you.” She quickly pulled her cash from her front pocket and set in on the counter. Wade Laweson was the one man she didn’t want to see when faced with such a predicament. It was embarrassing, and she wanted nothing to do with his frequently offered handouts. How many years of her refusals would it take for him to leave her alone? To give her some credit that she was capable of surviving without a man? “Can’t a neighbor help another? Nothing wrong with that.” He leaned against the counter, his subtle cologne surrounding her, a scent unique to him. Everything about Wade was a cursed distraction. He’d bought the next ranch over almost fifteen years ago, and to the day he’d been trying to woo her. She wouldn’t have any part of it. With young, fatherless children at home, a ranch in need of running, and a husband to mourn, she had to put distance between her and the

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tempting cowboy. The fact he made her heart beat faster from just a look made her hate herself and her traitorous desires. What kind of woman would she be to settle down with a new man? It would dishonor the memory of her late husband. She could imagine him watching her actions from the heavens. But as long as he couldn’t read her thoughts, she’d have made him proud by the way she constantly gave Wade the cold shoulder. “I never asked for help.” She made the mistake of looking up, up, up at his face. His jaw was scruffy, his blue eyes penetrating. The man aged like a fine wine, even more handsome than he had been in his heyday. She suspected he was close to fifty, her senior by about six years. “But I’m offering. It’d be polite of you to take it.” She glanced at Phil. He was nodding discreetly, concern on his face. Wade Laweson may be one of the wealthiest ranchers in the province, but that didn’t impress her. She couldn’t be bought for any price, regardless of her personal financial situation. Her love was free, but unfortunately for him, she was plum out of stock. “The rain can’t hold out much longer, and when it comes, I’ll have a bumper crop on my hands. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She brushed past him in the narrow aisle of the cramped store. He reached out and snagged her arm, bringing out her defenses. Wade was a tall, well-built man. He had to lean down to her level when he whispered in her ear. “How long you gonna hold out on me without giving me a chance, baby doll?” She flashed her wedding band, the one she’d never taken off. “My husband may be dead and buried, but I’m still a married woman, and I’d appreciate it if you’d treat me as such.” He scowled, returning to his full height. “It ain’t healthy to be talking like that. You’re still a young woman. It’s a shame you’d give up on love already.” With that he dismissed her, letting go of her arm, and returned to the counter. Wade had a large herd of cattle and cash

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crops, but unlike her, he had employees and expensive irrigation equipment she could only dream of affording. Wendy drove around back to the loading dock where the hired hands dropped her feed and supplies into her truck bed, the suspension briefly dipping. The drive home was tiring. She felt mentally exhausted. Seeing Wade brought uncomfortable emotions and deep-seated longings to the surface. She wasn’t a woman, not any longer. Men should look through her because she only saw herself as a workhorse, getting through one day to the next. If her children all fared well, she’d have done her job in life. For Wade to see her as a conquest was foolhardy. She had as much interest in him as she did for kissing her milking cow. At least that’s what she tried to convince herself each time she saw him. Once back home she got straight to work mucking out the stalls. When she was through, her shirt was drenched in sweat, and she slicked her damp hair back into a ponytail. She leaned against the open bay doors and watched the horses grazing in the holding paddock, not a care in the world. She didn’t want to put one of them up for sale, but they were a liability at this point. It was foolish of any farmer to get too attached to their animals. The income from the boarder kept the lights on and put food on the table, but nothing more. She lifted her left hand and watched the sun glint off the thin gold band. Her thoughts drifted to memories, pain, regret, and anger for being forced to live her life alone. It had been such a challenge, taking every ounce of her strength to get through each day. “What’s the matter, Ma?” She turned her head to find Christine staring at her. Wendy stood straight and cleared her throat. “Nothing, sweetheart, just taking a little breather.” “You work too hard. Ever since Brad left, you’ve been doing his load plus your own.”

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She smiled, not willing to let her daughter slip into the same depression. “It keeps me young. Have I ever complained about working a God’s honest day?” “Maybe not, but I think I should probably stay home and help more.” Wendy pushed off from the barn to face off with her daughter. “Are you kidding me? You’ll finish college, do you understand?” Although Kylie was starting at a distant university in September, moving out to live on residence, Christine was studying her last year of agricultural management at the local college. The girl spent her days in classes, afternoons cooking, cleaning, and tending to duties around the ranch with every spare minute. Now she wanted to do more? Wendy wouldn’t have it. She wanted her girls to have a better life than she led, and a solid educational foundation was key. “Then hire a laborer. At least until after harvest.” “Do I look like I’m made of money?” she snapped, but quickly controlled her temper. “What about your boarder? He could help out in the evenings, couldn’t he?” “He’s not a farmer. Besides, he has to rest up each night for his events. My problems are no concern of his.” “What about Mr. Laweson?” Wendy’s heart clenched. Did her daughter sense her deviant desires when she spoke of her neighbor? “What about him?” “I can’t even remember how many times he’s asked to help. What’s so wrong with taking if he’s offering?” Christine sounded just like Wade now. She felt defensive, put on the spot. Her daughters had no idea the things she went through to ensure they had relatively easy living. All the backbreaking work and sacrifices they’d never seen because they were either too young to notice or busy at school. “Because he’s trying to fill your daddy’s boots,” she said, instantly regretting the words. A near-deafening silence settled around them. She rarely brought up the sensitive

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subject, not mentioning their father unless necessary. It was a black spot on their family history that she chose to ignore rather than deal with. “And what’s so wrong if he is? We could use the help.” Christine sounded bold, challenging even. It surprised Wendy. “You act like there’s a ghost sitting at our dinner table. It’s just us! It’s always been just us.” She couldn’t form the words to argue, lost in the fact her daughter had apparently decided to forget the memory of her own flesh-andblood father. It hurt. But then again, the girls would barely remember him because they’d been so young when he died. Wendy stormed back to the house, unwilling to let her daughter see the unshed tears in her eyes. She was a lost woman, trying to hold on to a past that could never be relived. She was lonely, bitter, and scared, and frankly tired of carrying the burdens of the world on her shoulders as if they didn’t affect her. As she entered the back entrance, wrenching the screen door open with exaggerated force, she bumped into a hard body. A hand quickly shot out, hooking around her back to stabilize her. “Whoa there, Mrs. McCay. You nearly steamrollered me down.” Jackson was the last person she needed to see with her emotions on her sleeve. “Excuse me,” she managed to say without breaking completely. He still hadn’t moved his arm, but used his free hand to tilt her chin up. “Something the matter?” She shook her head, afraid to speak and release the floodgates of despair. “You know, my gran used to tell me that keeping things pent up, worries and secrets and such, was like keeping poison locked in your body. It’ll slowly eat away at you, kill you from the inside out. The only cure is to release it by sharing those burdens with another person, facing them head-on.” “Sometimes it’s easier to give good advice than it is to take it.”

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“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He moved his fingers ever so slightly at the small of her back before releasing her. His touch did wondrous things to her body. She hadn’t been touched by another man for any reason, and it felt good coming from Jackson. He was young, strong, and virile. There was nothing phoney about him, just genuine cowboy charm. For the briefest of seconds, she’d actually considered taking him up on his offer. **** Jackson blended in well on the McCay Ranch. The two daughters were rarely home, and when he arrived at the farm in the evenings, his landlady was often out on the fields or busy in the barn. She was stoic, refusing his help every time he offered. The following Monday he had no events and wasn’t interested in watching his friends. In fact, what he really wanted to do was get to know more about the mysterious Mrs. McCay. Each day he seemed to become more and more obsessed with her. He wanted to get through to her, make her really notice him. “Shit!” He heard the muttered curse from around the side of the barn. Jackson had been outside smoking a cigarette. He quickly stomped it out, not realizing he wasn’t alone. Jackson wasn’t afraid of much, and had been in more brawls than he could count, but the little blonde cowgirl scared him shitless. Before he reached the corner, several chickens came racing by, followed by Mrs. McCay. She glanced at him briefly, her eyes narrowed, probably not expecting to find another person on the ranch at this hour. “Catch them,” she said, passing him. More chickens came scampering at him. “They escaped the pen.” They were both bent over, grabbing at the elusive little birds. “How’d they get out?” he shouted over the clucking.

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“I was mending the chicken wire and had a mishap.” There were a couple dozen chickens on the farm. They wouldn’t get far, but if they weren’t penned by dusk, the foxes and other nocturnal critters would make a meal of them. “Slippery little buggers.” There was a flurry of feathers as they fought to get all the chickens back in their pen. Mrs. McCay put him to shame, roughly grabbing the chickens, sometimes two at a time. After rounding them up for nearly twenty minutes they were both laughing out loud, falling over each other, and giddy from the chaos of it all. When they’d finally popped the last chicken into the pen, she knelt down and went to work twisting the metal fastenings together with a pair of pliers. He collapsed beside her on the dry grass, clean sweat coating his body. The heat these days was intense—add any form of exercise and it was brutal. “Thanks for your help,” she said, slightly breathless. The woman looked gorgeous in her natural, dishevelled state. Her hair had slipped from its fastening, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips swollen. “I’d much rather round up cattle on horseback any day of the week,” he joked. Jackson twisted to his side, tilting his Stetson back to get a better look at the beauty sitting beside him. “It shouldn’t happen again. I’ve secured the pen good and proper this time.” “If it meant chasing them with you, I wouldn’t mind.” He studied her reactions, the way she swallowed hard, her body tensing. She clearly wasn’t used to men or compliments. How long did she plan to play a married woman to a dead man? She chuckled, dismissing his comment. “I expect you’re pretty popular with the young girls.” “I ain’t interested in girls. What I need is a woman.” Her lips parted, but no words came out. “I was talking to Kylie the other night.” He waited to see if she’d clue in without needing to say he knew her secret outright. “Oh?”

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“You don’t have to be afraid of me, darlin’. I’d never steal from you, never try to hurt you. Not all men are bad.” She fidgeted with her hair, pulling it around to one side of her neck and twirling in into a rope. “I’m not scared of you,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I have a high respect for single mothers. My own mother raised me alone for a large portion of my life, and I know it ain’t easy. What you’ve done should be commended.” Recognition widened her eyes for a moment. “Kylie had no right to be saying anything to you.” She started to stand up, brushing off her jeans with both hands. “Lying isn’t something I do regular, but a woman can never be too safe living alone in these parts. I have children to think about.” “I’m not judging you.” He rose up, not wanting to separate on a bad note. “And your children look grown to me.” Jackson followed her as she walked away from him. When they reached the barn, he spun her around, trapping her between his arms against the wooden boards. “What are you—” “You wouldn’t have to be afraid if you had a man to look after you.” He leaned over, breathing in against her neckline. She was the essence of a woman, equal parts of strength and fragility. She planted her palms on his chest, testing the muscles briefly before pushing him away. “Please mind your manners. I advertised for a boarder, not a husband.” He let her go now, but there was no way she could deny the chemistry between them. If only she’d take the leap, take a gamble on a new relationship.

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Chapter Three It had been three weeks since Wade saw Wendy at the feedstore. She’d dismissed him as usual, but he knew there was more to the woman than met the eye. The rain she’d spoken of had never come. Horror stories ran rampant through the gossip lines. Farmers losing whole crops, going bankrupt, deserting their land. There was even talk of a cowboy committing suicide. Every new bit of news he’d hear made him think of Wendy McCay and her wheat farm. She didn’t have the same technology he had, and ran the whole operation herself. It was unreal the things that woman could do. But she was too hotheaded to accept help, and still living in the past, refusing to really live her life. Wade supposed he was more a fool than her. He’d held off from getting into serious relationships, waiting for the day Wendy couldn’t hold out any longer. They’d had some fun times in the past during corn roasts and holiday events, but she’d only get so close to him before raising her shields. He could admit to himself he’d fallen in love with her years ago, but nothing he did was ever enough for her. By lunch hour the sun was merciless. Just stepping outside of his air-conditioned ranch was like walking into a solid wall of dry heat. He donned his Stetson and drove out to the McCay ranch to check up on his neighbor. She’d skin him for not minding his own business, or concerning himself with a so-called married woman. Wendy was just as lonely as him, a widow stuck in a time warp. Wade had heartache in his past, too, but together they could make a future for themselves. If only she’d open her eyes to the possibilities.

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Her truck was in front of the house, so he knew she’d be home. He parked to the side of the barn, and then knocked on the front door, getting no answer. A farmer would be crazy to work his fields at this hour, on a day like today, so he checked the barn and outbuildings. Her tractors were in the equipment barn. Where was she? “Wendy?” he called out. Maybe she was with the livestock or hanging laundry around back. Sometimes he’d see her riding out into the fields alone, just wandering aimlessly. Wade walked around the side of the house to the rear yard, finding it abandoned like the rest of the property. “Wendy?” He was about to leave, guessing someone had picked her up and drove her into town for errands, but then his peripheral vision caught some movement. There was a figure way off in the apple orchard. He mopped his brow with a cloth from his front pocket, and then walked across the crisp, burnt grass. When he reached the young trees, he noticed how parched the land was, the soil eroding from the dry spell. He weaved his way through the trees until he found her. Wendy was wearing a white tank top, transparent from sweat. She had on jean shorts with cowboy boots, her hair up in a messy ponytail. He’d never seen a woman so beautiful, yet worn at the same time. Her face was red, eyes heavy, and body close to collapsing. The fool was carting buckets of water from the well. He could see the drip trail from where she’d just come from, and the well was a good two-minute walk one way. She poured the contents of the large bucket over the roots of one tree, the soil barely darkening and too dry to absorb the water. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” He snatched the bucket from her and tossed it. Her eyes followed the metal container as it rolled away. “Answer me, damn it.” “They’ll die if they don’t get water. I can’t lose my orchard,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, her lips dry and peeling. “How long have you been out here?”

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“Since sunup, I suppose.” She tried to push by him to get to the bucket, nearly falling over she was so shaky on her feet. Wade wanted to make things better for her, take care of her, if only she’d allow it. There was no way she could save her trees by continuing to water them by the bucketful. No sooner than she’d dump the water, the heat would evaporate it. “Stop this nonsense. You can’t make a difference with a few buckets of water, Wendy.” “Watch me. This is my land, and I won’t watch it burn to hell.” He stood back as she staggered down her dusty path toward the well, dragging her boots as she shuffled along. All these years he’d given her the upper hand, kept his manners, but this was too much. Just when he’d decided to put an end to the spectacle, to demand she stop her foolish efforts, she fell forward onto the earth. He raced over, dropping to his knees, and rolled her to her back. Her eyes were closed, her parched lips unable to close. “Your stubbornness will be the death of you, woman.” He scooped her up into the cradle of his arms and carried her back to his truck. **** Every muscle in her body screamed out in protest when she moved. She shifted on the bed, too tired to open her eyes. Then she began to remember bits and pieces that didn’t make sense. She sat up in a rush, feeling a sudden raw terror. Her orchard! She had to save the orchard! “Ah, ah, ah. Lie back down, darlin’.” Wade’s familiar baritone anchored her. He lowered her back to the pillow on the sofa. “The orchard,” she said, her throat scratching when she spoke. Wendy brought a hand to her neck and attempted to swallow, but was unable to.

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“Here you go. Take a sip, but not too much.” He held a straw to her lips and she gladly took the cool water into her body. She could feel it travel down her throat, all the way to her stomach. Once her mouth was moisturized, she tried again to speak. “My orchard…” “Don’t worry about that now. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, we’d be planning a funeral for you.” She briefly glanced around the room. There were open rafters on the ceiling and a grand woodburning fireplace in one corner. The house had a cozy, country feel. “Where am I?” “My ranch. It’s the only place I could take proper care of you. You needed to cool off.” When she ran her tongue over her lips, she realized he must have put petroleum jelly on them. Her boots were off, but her clothes were still in place. When she took a breath, she noticed how fresh and cool it was compared to outside. “I need to get back and water those trees before they die. I won’t let two years of hard work turn to firewood.” “For nearly fifteen years I kept my distance out of respect. But there’s no way I’m letting you leave this house today.” His eyes were determined when he spoke. He was going to kidnap her? Force her to be idle while she could be productive, saving her orchard? “I’ve never seen a woman as stubborn as you. It boggles my mind.” She sat up and attempted to stand. Maybe Wade was partially right. She could barely support her weight she was so weak and dehydrated. “Where’re my boots at?” When she looked up, one hand bracing the arm of the sofa for support, he was shaking his head. For the first time he wasn’t the sexy, forbidding rancher next door that she easily put in his place with a few sharp words. He was all dominance, unmovable, and part of her liked this new side to him. With him she wasn’t the mother, the middle-aged widow. She was young, desirable, the center of his world.

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She wasn’t prepared for him to toss her over his shoulder. He was strong as an ox, his gait not affected by having a hundred and twenty pounds pressing down on him. “Put me down!” “I will, but not yet.” He easily bounded up the wooden staircase at the back of the split-level to the second story. They entered an obscenely large bathroom with a Jacuzzi-size tub—so much more extravagant than her water closet and stand-up shower back home. He kicked the door shut and then stood her on the cool tiled floor. “I’m leaving,” she said stubbornly, pushing at his chest to get to the door behind him. He growled his irritation, hoisted her up, and then plunged her into a bath full of cool water, clothes and all. She gasped, her arms flailing from the shock of everything. “There’re towels on the counter and a dry housecoat to change into. I’ll be downstairs when you’re through, with a good meal waiting.” He didn’t even wait for a response before leaving the room. She wanted to be angry, to scream and curse, but she was too much in shock. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d hardened into a stone-cold bitch over the years. This was exactly the wake-up call she needed. Where would her daughters be if they came home and found her near death in the orchard? But desperation caused her to do foolish things, and even now she was tempted to steal off to her farm and tend her young trees. She had to face the bitter reality that she’d probably lose her orchard, and her wheat soon enough. After bathing, drying, and wrapping herself in the terrycloth robe, she stood in front of the mirror and really looked at herself. She was no longer a young woman. Where had the years gone? Her skin wasn’t tight and youthful, but aging with fine lines and blemishes. Her hair was limp when it used to be full and envied by other women. Even if she wanted to move on and start life over, it was too late for her. The time for dreams was past. It was her children’s moment to fall in love, start rewarding careers, and enjoy the fruits of their labor. Wendy’s only place was in the shadows.

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She quietly padded out of the bathroom and across the cool hardwood floors. All these years and she’d never been inside the Laweson Ranch. Wendy knew Wade wasn’t married, but didn’t really know too much about his personal life. She’d been so busy avoiding him, hiding from her real emotion, that she’d blocked out Wade and most of the world beyond her property line. As she crept down the stairs, she scanned the area, trying to catch a glimpse of him before he did her. It felt odd to be able to take deep breaths of cool air in the middle of a heat wave. Not even the feedstore had air-conditioning, just the usual box fans. It shouldn’t be a surprise because she knew Wade had a successful business. He could afford luxuries, and he’d offered to help her on countless occasions. She was just too damn proud. Since her husband’s death she’d taken care of the ranch, bills, and cared for four children without handouts or help from anyone. To accept assistance now felt like giving up, like all those years of suffering were for nothing. “Feel better?” She gripped the handrail of the stairs, not expecting a voice from behind her in the hallway. “The heat must have gotten to me.” There was only a robe separating Wade and her complete nudity. For some reason it excited her, made her feel like a real woman. Feelings she’d stifled for what felt like a lifetime came rushing back, making her skin tingle. Her long-dormant body was coming to life. Why now? “You’re not out of the woods yet, darlin’. Come back and sit on the sofa. You can eat from there so you can lean back on the cushions. Heatstroke can do funny things to a person, even when you think you’re well.” She humored him for now. Mostly because she still felt out of sorts and knew it would be smartest to cool off and rest a while before returning to her stifling-hot home. Without Wade ordering her to sit and relax, she knew she’d start working extra hard to catch up on lost time if she headed home now. Maybe she needed a strong man in her life, one who could respect her as well as put her in her place when

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necessary. “Thank you for everything.” Wendy sat on the sofa, ensuring the robe was held tightly together. Wade sat on a well-loved brown leather chair which faced her, just a wooden coffee table separating them. He’d set out an array of food on a white ceramic turkey platter. Red and green grapes, cubes of store-bought cheese, and what looked like a scrambled egg sandwich on whole wheat bread. Her mouth salivated. Back home they lived straight off the land, so if something wasn’t in season or grown in their garden, they went without. She tentatively reached for a piece of marbled cheese. When she glanced up to gauge Wade’s reaction, he was smiling, a calmness in his eyes. She’d never seen him riled, so maybe he was always laidback. “Go on. It’s all for you. You need protein and fluids. Drink all that juice. It doesn’t look pretty, but it has everything the body needs.” The juice in question was green and pulpy. There wasn’t much that Wendy wouldn’t try, so she wasn’t worried. “Thank you,” she repeated. This was the first time anyone had taken care of her. Even when she was sick, she sucked it up and cared for her children. But her children were adults now. Her youngest was twenty-two and moving out in a few months. There would no longer be a need for sacrifices and nobody to care for. Wendy would be lost when she no longer had a role to play. She only knew how to be a mother, a provider. “Wendy, you don’t have to battle the drought on your own. You have neighbors who’re willing to help. Want to help.” He dragged a hand through his waves of brown hair. Wade was a ruggedly handsome man with strong features. His blue eyes were piercing, as if they could see behind her facade to the vulnerable woman locked up behind the tough skin. She shook her head. “Everyone has their own problems.”

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“I want to help you,” he said. “I want to be everything you need if you’d only let me. You’re a strong, beautiful woman, one who deserves to be loved and cared for.” Wendy ate the cheese. “What happens when Kylie leaves home? You gonna live all by your lonesome on that ranch?” “Loneliness can’t inspire a woman to love.” “Not if it isn’t already in her heart,” he countered. After reached for a sprig of grapes, she answered, “I still have Christine.” “Phil was telling me she’s doing well in school. Do you think she’ll be living at home forever? It’s only natural for grown children to want to start lives for themselves, fall in love, and marry.” She frowned. “I hope you’re not saying I don’t want the best for my children. Of course I want them to be happy and live their own lives. Not once have I considered myself before them.” He grabbed her wrist when she reached for another grape on the platter. “Exactly. Why you punishing yourself? You have so much life to live.” They held eye contact for a moment. “Being alive is reward enough. Some of us aren’t that lucky.” She couldn’t even say her husband’s name or mention his death without clamming up. “Right. Your husband.” He took a deep breath, letting go of her wrist. “How long’s it been?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” She swirled the glass of veggie juice, watching the thick liquid spiral around the inside rim. All the muscles in her body seemed to go taut at once. “Too bad.” She snapped her eyes back up, meeting his gaze. Her mouth was agape due to his callous tone and outright rudeness. “You need to let go of the past, baby doll. There ain’t nothing wrong with remembering those you love, but when you can’t even

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function, can’t live a normal, healthy life, then you have a problem. I can see the conflict brewing inside you, eating you alive.” Wendy was so exhausted, weak, hungry, and emotionally battered that her resolve diminished by the second. “Please…Just leave me be.” Her words came out as a whisper, a near-silent cry of a woman crumbling from the inside out. Even as they sat here, her orchard and wheat were burning under the unrelenting sun, her bills were getting behind, and she’d have to sell one of her beloved horses as soon as she secured a buyer. On top of that, she was being forced to relive a painful past, one she couldn’t let go of. Wade was right. She was living an unhealthy life, living in a shadow of her former self. All these years she was so busy being mother and rancher that she didn’t have time to reflect. Now that her kids were grown, she was starting to discover herself again, and all her undealt-with baggage. Wendy didn’t really like herself at all. “I’ll never leave you be, darlin’. I’ll always be there for you if you call. I only hope you realize what’s right in front of you soon. I guarantee no man will love you like I do.” Then he chuckled. “I’m not getting any younger, Wendy McCay. You’ve held me back for nearly fifteen years. The day may come when I have no choice but to look for love elsewhere.” Her heart began to race. “But you just said you’d never leave me be.” “I’ll always be there if you need help, but I have desires like any other man. I won’t make the same mistake you have by locking my heart away.” Wendy felt terror stricken. She may have been standoffish with Wade over the years, but she finally realized that his presence and constant courting were a comfort to her. She’d been the one in the wrong, encouraging him on occasion, knowing she was incapable of loving back. Now that he’d threatened to take that unconditional love elsewhere, she felt desperate to grab hold of him, to beg him to love her.

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Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Not just for the potential loss, but for wasting away her whole life, her years of youth, her beauty. Wade deserved the woman she used to be, not the thing that looked back at her in the mirror now. She dropped her head to shield her glistening eyes. “Please don’t give up on me.”

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Chapter Four Wade’s heart broke for the woman in front of him. She’d been so icy since he’d known her, rarely giving outsiders a glimpse into the warm woman she kept under lock and key. Those rare times she let down her guard were enough to win over his heart. Now she looked defeated. Lost. His protective instincts soared off the charts. He wanted to be everything she needed, but knew he had to take baby steps or risk losing her. They were both lonely, unmarried, and the physical attraction between them was more than evident. She could deny it until the cows came home, but he’d seen her check out his body, take peeks when she thought he wasn’t looking. It was a constant cat-and-mouse game, but he was tiring of it, weary of waiting. Of course, he was plum smitten with Wendy. He’d never seen a woman age so beautifully, and carry herself with such strength and grace. She was a good mother, and a hard worker, but it was time for her to explore the woman. “Stop pushing me away and I’ll wait for you, give you all the time in the world you need.” “I’m just—I’m in over my head. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, before I open my eyes, I pretend things are different. That the crops are healthy, the bills are paid, my daughter isn’t dating an asshole, and that…I know what love is again.” He pushed the coffee table to the side, the legs scraping the hardwood, and knelt in front of her, clasping her hands in one of his. “That can be real, sweetheart. I promise I’d never hurt you, never make you regret loving me.”

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She scoffed. “You deserve better. I doubt I’ll be able to give much. It’s been so long—” He could practically hear her resolve cracking. It was the day he’d waited for, the day she decided to move on, accept change. “I’ll take whatever I can get. Just give me a chance.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. He wasn’t sure if it was because she was thinking or because her lips needed more balm. “No promises.” He kissed her knuckles, her skin silky under his lips. His cock instantly came to life despite the room weighing heavily with emotion. But if he managed to control that appendage for years, he could keep it in check for a while longer. “Eat your sandwich before it gets cold. I made it myself.” She complied, reaching out for it as Wade stood up. Watching her eat the food he’d prepared with his own hands gave him a unique sense of pleasure and peace. He wanted Wendy McCay to be his more than all the riches in the world. Now that she’d offered him a chance to prove himself, he’d show her exactly how a cowboy treated a woman. **** Jackson had a tiring week, registering at new events, competing in barrel races, and meeting up with old friends. A piece of him would always be part of the rodeo. It was in his blood, his soul. But another part, maybe taken from his mother, wanted a different life. He finished his cigarette in the truck, not wanting to piss off his landlady. Her pickup was in the driveway, so he didn’t want to risk getting scolded by her for smoking. Then again, he did crave her fiery nature. All week she’d kept aloof, feeding and caring for him, but not getting too friendly. A woman living alone could never be too safe, especially with a strange man living under her roof, so he could understand her guarded nature. But her caution went to the extreme—

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if they shared a laugh, she quickly stifled it. When any intimacy formed mutually between them, she suddenly remembered something she had to do at the other side of the ranch. The more he watched her, the more he became infatuated. Little things, like the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she did her mending in the evenings. He’d watch her work, her little pixy nose and full lips downright adorable. She would get so focused on her task that she didn’t even realize he would be staring like a lovesick fool. He didn’t care that she was a good many years older. Jackson had never been a ladies’ man, always a degree more responsible than his friends. He could appreciate the value of a good woman. Mrs. McCay had experience, confidence, and mature beauty—things the young cowgirls didn’t possess. He wanted her even more knowing he could never have her. Christine came rushing from the house. He butted his cigarette out in the ashtray and rolled the window all the way down. “Have you seen my mother?” “No. Just pulled up myself.” “Well, her truck’s here. She left me some chickens for plucking, but I can’t find her.” It was unusual that Mrs. McCay wouldn’t be around at this hour. She rarely left the ranch, and worked herself to the bone maintaining the place until the last shred of daylight. When Jackson offered to help, it was like pulling teeth. She was overly obsessed with her independence, refusing to allow others to assist her. The fact she was gone without her truck worried him. An unsettled feeling formed inside him, as if something was terribly wrong. “Let’s go take a look.” He got out of his truck and began his investigation. If she wasn’t in the house, she could be in the barn, the fields, or the orchard. He started with the barn. The heat was nearly unbearable, so he couldn’t imagine she’d be foolish enough to work the land at this hour. Christine followed along behind him.

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The heavy equipment was where he expected it to be, the horses in the small, shaded paddock, and the dogs loose. He stopped near the back of the house, frowning as he tried to figure out where she’d go. “I’m worried,” said her daughter. Christine’s face was marked with concern. Where the fuck could she be? His worries grew the longer he couldn’t find her. He began to run around the outside perimeter of the fields behind the house, calling her name. That woman didn’t seem to have a friend in the world, so she had to be here. “Goddamn it,” he cursed after an extensive search. “Maybe she went into town with Kylie.” “Without the truck?” “They could have drove with Kylie’s boyfriend. He has a car.” He shook his head. “There’s no way she’d have anything to do with Jason. She bad-mouths him every chance she gets.” As they stood there together, staring out into the open fields, the muffled sound of the telephone sparked both of their attention. Christine ran back to the house, whipping open the screen and bounding inside. Jackson hoped to God it wasn’t a phone call saying Mrs. McCay had been taken to the hospital or worse. By the time he reached the house, afraid of what news Christine may tell him, she was out of breath, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Was it her?” “No. It was a neighbor. My mom’s at the next ranch over. Apparently she suffered heatstroke trying to water the orchard by hand.” This day was bound to come. She had no sense, refusing the help others offered. A working farm was too much work for one woman. “I’ll go get her,” he said, already digging in his pocket for his truck keys. “Which ranch?”

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Christine sat on one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table. “No, he said not to come by. He’ll bring her back tomorrow after she’s rested.” “That doesn’t sound like something she’d agree to. Who exactly is this neighbor of yours?” Mrs. McCay was as stubborn as they came, and she didn’t like to leave home, never mind spend the night elsewhere. “Wade Laweson. He lives alone on that big cattle ranch. Thank God he came by when he did.” “You’re not worried she’s over there?” “He’s a good man, always doing us favors.” She took a cleansing breath and set up in front of the sink to prepare the chickens, tying a thin apron around her middle. “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll have it ready on time before I head out.” Jackson wasn’t worried about dinner or Christine’s social life. He could only think about those sensual blue eyes and inner strength of the woman now resting in another man’s house. Jackson wasn’t sure who he was anymore. He was a drifter, a boarder who’d be back on the road in a matter of months. If Mrs. McCay ever decided to settle down with another man, she’d be best to choose a wealthy rancher who could provide her with easy living. She worked too damn hard, and Jackson had little to offer a woman. Still, the thought of packing up and never seeing her again didn’t sit well with him. “Sure thing, darlin’. No worries.” He casually walked out of the room, but inside his head was spinning. He planned full well to head over to the Laweson Ranch to collect Mrs. McCay. If she needed rest or to be taken care of, he could provide it. He’d take the remainder of the week off, miss his events if he had to. She was more important. Once a man forgot the human element, only caring about conquering their next chance at eight seconds, they were as good as gone. He wouldn’t lose himself like his daddy had.

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Jackson boarded his truck and wasted no time in driving out to the cattle ranch down the dirt road. He sprayed gravel as he left the property, overly anxious to get Mrs. McCay home, and even more eager to ensure her knight in shining armor didn’t try anything funny. An unfamiliar jealous streak surfaced. What if she only acted stoic with him, but welcomed the advances of other men, wealthier men her own age? Did she see him as a joke, as a kid because he was not much older than her son? The long, winding drive to the Laweson Ranch was well maintained. The other man had all the newest equipment in his parking area, a hired hand hosing down a forklift. Jackson stepped out of his truck, looking around with awe. The property was huge, the house a mix of modern and old-world charm. His chest tightened further. How could he compete with this? “Can I help you?” asked one of the farm hands. The man plucked off his Stetson and wiped his brow with a forearm. “I need to speak with the landowner, Wade Laweson.” “He should still be in the house. I haven’t seen him all afternoon, and his truck is parked in its spot.” “Great. Thanks.” Why hadn’t he been out of the house all day? No doubt because he couldn’t pry himself from Mrs. McCay. He didn’t waste any extra time standing around. Jackson strode over to the wraparound porch and knocked firmly on the door. He waited, tapping his boot impatiently. The heat was unbearable, but it didn’t help he was making a ton of his own. He unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt, tugging the collar wider so he could breathe. The door opened, and rather than the potbellied, gray-haired rancher he hoped to find, Wade was exactly what he’d secretly expected and dreaded. He was the same height as Jackson, a big man at around six foot four. He had a hard-muscled frame, and dark-brown hair with only a sprinkling of gray. “Yes, can I help you, son?”

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Son? This wasn’t looking good for him at all. He should leave with his tail between his legs. Why did he think a real woman would want anything to do with a twenty-nine-year-old drifter like him? She’d been through the death of a husband, raised four children on her own, and ran her farm without the help of hired hands. He was just a greenhorn in her eyes. “Mrs. McCay here?” he asked, his fire dashed. Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “Who’s looking?” “Jackson Taylor. I live with her. Heard she’s unwell and came to pick her up and bring her home.” He wanted Wade to believe there was more between them than there was. Since he’d only known her a week so far, he felt the need to offer more validity for his attachment to her. He unfolded his arms, his brow furrowed. “You’re her son?” So Wade didn’t know the family intimately. That was a good sign for Jackson. He was worried Mrs. McCay may have a thing for the cattle rancher, but if they had a relationship surely Wade would know more than he did. “No, I’m not her son. Is she here? Christine said she was here.” He tried to look past him into the house. “She’s resting. Come in.” The man didn’t sound welcoming, but unimpressed, the same as Jackson. They sized each other up without saying a word. He followed Wade into the house. The first thing he noted was the air-conditioning. He could feel the heat escaping from his collar practically sizzle as it met the cool air. When they turned the corner, he saw Mrs. McCay reclining on a sofa, water bottle in hand. She was only wearing a white robe which stopped him dead in his tracks. Were they lovers? It really was none of his business considering he was just a boarder—here today, gone tomorrow. He hadn’t even made his move, though he’d been tempted the last couple days when they were out mucking the barn together. Jackson had caught her staring as he worked shirtless. When he’d turn and meet her gaze, he would find a carnal lust which made his cock

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hard. She’d be a vixen in bed. But as soon as he’d take a step forward or attempt to say a word, she’d blink and the desire was gone. “Jackson? What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting upright. “We were worried about you. I came home to an empty house, and Christine was in a frenzy wondering where you’d be without your truck.” “I’m fine. I may have pushed myself a bit too hard considering the heat. How’s the crop looking? Did you stop by the orchard?” Wade sat beside her on the sofa, resting a hand on her knee. “None of that,” he said with warning in his voice. “You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself, not worrying about your crops. Ain’t that how you got in this predicament in the first place?” Jackson could hear the genuine concern in his voice because it mirrored his own. It tore him up on the inside knowing that strong but petite woman had been battling the drought all on her own. She should have a man to love her…but he supposed she did once upon a time. Why hadn’t she remarried? Mrs. McCay was a blonde beauty with a petite, youthful figure. He sat on the opposite side of her. “I can’t say I don’t agree. The last thing you need to worry about are your crops. If Mother Nature wants them destroyed, there ain’t nothing you or I can do about it. We can only wait and see.” “I don’t like those odds,” she said. “A cowboy wouldn’t talk like that. He’d do anything to make things right and save his crop. Without a harvest I have nothing. I can’t pay my mortgage, bills, anything.” “A mortgage? I’ve been next door for fifteen years and you were already well established when I arrived. Surely your house is nearly paid off?” “I’ve refinanced the mortgage every few years to get cash money. Farming natural isn’t easy. I don’t have fancy equipment, hired hands, or irrigation systems in place.”

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“Like me?” Wade said with a sarcastic edge. “How can I be to blame for what’s happening to you? God knows I’ve tried to lend a hand.” Her face visibly fell. Jackson didn’t even think before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Now that’s a cruel way to talk to a lady. Mrs. McCay just has a lot on her plate right now.” She didn’t pull away, which surprised him. Normally she’d never let him this close. He continued, stoking her pretty blonde hair, still slightly damp from a shower. “I’m not trying to be cruel, just get her to understand things are the way they are because she allowed it. Her stubborn streak hasn’t aided her.” “Let’s get you home,” he whispered against her hair. “You need to rest, not become more stressed.” Wade stood up, his legs braced as if guarding them from getting up to leave. “You never did tell me who you were. Wendy?” He finally knew her name. Wendy. He repeated it in his head, even trying it out silently with his mouth. “He’s my boarder. Unlike what you think of me, I am proactive. I’m preparing for the potential loss of income. Since there’s no rain in the forecast I’d say the potential is more a guarantee.” Wade chuckled. “I knew it had to be something like that. You had me scared for a minute there, darlin’. I thought you’d actually robbed the cradle.” A deafening silence crashed down on the room. Jackson didn’t know if Wendy was more insulted than he was by the remark. “You saying I’m old, Wade? You think I run after hot, young cowboys and beg them to roll in the hay with me? I don’t think you know me at all.” “Of course not! Good Lord, you’re younger than I am. I’m just saying a boy like this isn’t capable of taking care of a woman. He wouldn’t know where to start.”

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Jackson bolted upright, puffing out his chest. He’d been in more scraps than he could count and had the scars to prove it. This oldtimer didn’t threaten him in the least. “You best think twice before running your mouth. It could get you into trouble.” He mock smiled. “Maybe Wendy can recognize a man who can give her exactly what she needs. I guarantee you I don’t need male enhancement to keep my cock hard all night long.” “Okay, that’s enough!” Wendy stood up and shoved past them. “You’re both disgusting and insulting. Someone please drive me home right now or I’ll walk.” He knew she was capable of keeping her threat. This time Wade didn’t fight when Jackson followed her out to the parking lot. As he looked back, he saw the defeated look in the other man’s eyes. He honestly felt sorry for him, but if one man had to have Wendy, Jackson wanted it to be him.

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Chapter Five “What was that all about?” Wendy asked as they drove off the property. “What?” She exhaled, exasperated, and twisted to face him. “I should wash your mouth with soap for how you talked in there.” “You can do anything you want to me.” He smiled naughtily as he faced the road “By the way, beautiful name, Wendy.” Had she not even told him her first name in all the time he’d been at her house? Even with the distance she put between them, it had all been in vain. She’d heard the stories about young cowboys falling hard in love. Her own son had become victim. Bradley had come home from a paid cattle roundup and announced he was moving in with a woman, one he’d only known for two weeks. He was one hundred percent, head over heels in love, and she didn’t question his choice to move out. Life had been much more difficult without his helping hand, but he did send money each month which helped pay expenses. Now, in the span of a week, her boarder was acting possessive about her, as if she was his woman. It was too much to process, especially after listening to Wade’s speech about giving him a chance to court her properly. What was she doing? She should be minding her own business, not hooking up with any man after all these years. But part of her wanted to let go of the past, however painful. It was tempting to give in to the affections of a good man, but also the hardest thing in the world to do.

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“I’m a forty-four-year-old widow. You can do much better than me, Jackson.” A crush was temporary, something that burned hot for a moment in time, then quickly turned to ash. At her age, she needed peace and security if she decided to settle down with a man. Jackson may be a walking sex-on-a-stick with all those hard muscles, but he’d be fickle, just like every drifter she’d known in her life. The cowboys who settled down to work the land were much more reliable, men like Wade. “I’m not a twenty-year-old punk. I’ll be thirty come November.” “That’s still a baby. You have your whole life ahead of you.” She tried to brush off his attraction because she couldn’t deal with it now. All she wanted to do was go home and forget the entire day, from the dying crops to her near-death experience, to two men vying for her approval. Wendy was mentally and physically exhausted. “Do you think Wade Laweson would be a better choice just because he’s older? Or because he has more money than he knows what to do with?” “I know very well money can’t buy love or I’d have settled down with him over a decade ago. I’m not looking for any man, young or old, rich or poor. That’s not going to change.” Jackson remained silent for the rest of the short drive. He walked around and opened her door once they pulled up to the house. She held the robe shut tight when she swung her legs around. “You have no boots on,” he said, just noticing. She’d gotten in the truck with no problem, but now that he saw her bare feet he wouldn’t let her out the door. “It’s not exactly cold out, Jackson.” Wendy tried to brush him aside but the man was built like a brick house, all solid muscle. The simple touch to push him out of her way seemed to light up her body from the inside. She was even tempted to run her hands over those broad shoulders or her palm along the rough stubble on his jaw. “I love the way you say my name, darlin’.” He whispered the words, so close. She swallowed the frog in her throat. If only things

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were different. If only she were a young girl starting out in life without all the baggage. She’d love to throw herself in his arms and let him fend off the world. But fairy tales were for children’s books, not women living the harsh reality where no knight in shining armor existed. “Don’t…” He leaned in and scooped her up into his capable arms. She had no choice but to wrap her arm around his neck for fear of falling to the ground. “I’m not letting you walk on the gravel drive. I took you home to care for you, and I plan to do just that.” “I promise I’m fine.” She squirmed to show her disapproval, but not enough that he’d put her down. Being held by a man was a first for her. Her marriage had been too brief, and she was either pregnant or busy with children while her husband devoted his time to their new farm. He was a good man, but it scared her to admit she may not have really loved him. She was young and idealistic back then, not even an adult, and so little time was devoted to nurturing their relationship. Once he died, it was easy to convince herself she’d lost the love of her life, the father of her children. Her focus, besides her perpetual mourning, was raising her children with enough affection to make up for two parents. All the feelings she got when she thought of Jackson or Wade were new. She’d never felt that flutter in her stomach or hitch in her breath before. Wendy felt sick and guilty for not having been a better wife or more sorrowful widow. She wanted to give in to these two men, to allow herself a new beginning, but felt too guilty. Jackson leaned over and opened the front door, not letting her to her feet. He kicked it shut after they entered the house. Christine rushed over, dressed to head out, but stopped and looked between her and Jackson. “Mom, are you okay?” This was what she feared most, seeing betrayal in her children’s eyes if they saw her with another man.

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“I’m fine, just a little tired.” She felt foolish being held like a child, but also special and wanted. It was nice being the one cared for rather than doing all of it herself. “Soup’ll be ready shortly, but I’m going out with Casey tonight. Do you want me to cancel? Yeah, I should cancel.” Jackson spoke before she could open her mouth. “Oh no. You go on out with your friend. I’ll be taking care of your momma, and I’ll be sure to give her some of your fine soup. It smells delicious.” Christine smiled. “Okay, then.” She kissed Wendy on the cheek then raced off. Wendy had to constantly remind herself that the younger generation liked to go out and have fun, get a little wild with their friends, not work themselves on a ranch day after day. She liked that Christine was starting to spread her wings, but hoped she made better choices than Kylie had. Once her daughter was out of sight, Jackson adjusted her in his arms, reminding her his rough hands were still on her body, just the thin robe hiding her nudity. “As for you, you’re going to bed.” He carried her to her room and gently placed her on her mattress. After shutting the blinds and turning on the fan, he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, the mattress dipping from his weight. “What about the orchard?” She could understand other people being angry with her. Worrying about crops before health was foolhardy. But she felt good now, and her wheat and apples were her livelihood. How could she just go to sleep and pretend all her worries had vanished? It would be worse when she was fully recovered only to discover her season ruined, much more at stake for her if those young trees died. She’d invested all her savings on establishing the orchard, hoping to create a new and more stable source of income. Now it was just a liability. “Don’t worry about the orchard,” he said, running his hand across her forehead to remove the stray hairs. She jerked her head away, uncomfortable with the intimate touch. Being over a decade older than Jackson, she shouldn’t feel like an inexperienced schoolgirl, but

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she did. It was as if all the years she’d stopped living a full life never happened, and she was once again young and shy, in the care of a more traveled lover. Jackson may only be twenty-nine but she was certain he knew the anatomy of a woman and the art of lovemaking. Wendy could barely recall what it felt like to kiss a man. “But—” He shook his head and leaned over her torso. Only now could she smell his subtle cologne. She closed her eyes, feeling enveloped by so much masculine energy. He whispered right against her ear, the heat and gentle wisp of air igniting her deep-seated desires. “Trust me.” “I can’t,” she said with all honesty. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to give up that much power. If she only had herself to rely on, she’d never have to worry about getting hurt or caring about a stranger. He tongued the shell of her ear, his upper body weight suspended over her. His frame was so large, so strong, everything that attracted her to a man. She never realized there were erogenous zones in and around her ears. He seemed to hit every one with his lips and tongue. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Her eyes were closed, her pussy pulsing, her heart rate deafening as it pounded in her ears. “Do you like that?” he asked. She kept silent. He grew bolder now, probably since she hadn’t asked him to stop. Jackson ran a hand down the side of her neck and under the housecoat at her shoulders. His bare hand against her flesh was hot and rough, titillating her senses. She had no clothes on. All it would take was a quick movement to peel the material open, leaving her completely vulnerable. “What about this?” As he reached deeper inside her housecoat, his hand skimming her side, the terrycloth parted, exposing one breast. She gasped, trying to cover up, but he stilled her. “Why’re you hiding from me? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

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“I’m nothing to look at.” She had small, insignificant breasts, slightly droopy from nursing all her children for over a year each. Jackson had probably sampled plenty of the young buckle bunnies that frequented the rodeo circuit. She couldn’t compete and wouldn’t be looked at with disgust. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, raising it above her head in a firm lock. Then he lowered his mouth to her breast, taking the entire areola into his mouth. Her nipple instantly pebbled, sparks of electricity racing through her body. She panted, shocked as much as she wanted more. “You’re delicious, Wendy. More than I could ever ask for.” He trailed those wicked kisses down her center, making her stomach quiver. “Jackson, what’re you doing?” “Just one taste, darlin’.” She wasn’t sure what he referred to until his tongue flicked out when he reached her clit. Wendy gasped aloud, the sensation triggering a deep convulsing in her womb. “Yes,” he murmured, spreading her legs apart. She was stiff, awkward, unsure…until he began to suckle her. Jackson ate her pussy—licking, sucking, nipping, and fucking her with his tongue. This was another new experience for her. She felt uninhibited, as if exploring her sexuality for the first time. It was oddly erotic watching Jackson’s head between her bare legs. Her housecoat was fully open, no longer an afterthought. She focused on his mouth, the pleasurable sounds he made, and the fire sparked to life in her core. The heat grew and spread. Wendy began to whimper, clutching his head, knowing something monumental was about to take place. He seemed to know the precise spot to concentrate on, bringing her higher until she was floating on a new plane of consciousness. His stubble scraped her sensitive inner thighs and pussy lips, but the mix of pleasure and slight pain was exhilarating. “Jackson!” She thrust her hips up involuntarily at the same time her body erupted. It was as if some floodgate inside her had broken

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forth, releasing all her desire in one massive rush of energy. He didn’t pull away, but suckled her cunt until all her contractions eased, leaving her a boneless mass on the bed. “You’re sweeter than apple pie.” “But you love my apple pie,” she muttered, barely able to form the words. “I’d much rather eat you for dessert.” She opened her eyes briefly, only then realizing he stood at the end of the bed gazing at her fully exposed, nude figure. Even though that familiar twinge of embarrassment and shame surfaced, it wasn’t stronger than her exhaustion or the fact she was more thoroughly sated than she thought possible. “Now, you rest. No getting out of bed. I’m going to get some chores done around the property, and then I’ll come back in and check on you. You best be where I left you.” He pulled a crisp sheet from the blanket box and snapped it out, letting it come to rest over her flush body. As soon as the wave of cotton settled over her skin, she rolled over, clutching the material, and fell asleep. **** Jackson tore from the house, needing to breathe before he found himself crawling into bed with Mrs. McCay…Wendy. If she were his fairy-tale Wendy, then he certainly was a lost boy. He didn’t want to throw caution to the wind and follow in his daddy’s footsteps, not now that he could finally see an alternative future for himself. Wendy was his anchor and without her he’d only toss on the sea, travelling the circuit with no destination, no greater goal. All week they’d played games, but she never allowed things to cross that invisible line from friendly to intimate. Now she’d willingly spread her legs and allowed him to go down on her. It had been heaven. The breasts she complained about were adorable and tempting. Her nipples tight buds begging to be sucked, and her

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stomach fair skinned and silky. He fully expected her to stop him before he reached the gold, but once she allowed him to take that first taste, she was his. Jackson knew how to pleasure a woman, what move could push her over the edge or get her to beg for more. Giving Wendy pleasure had been one of the most memorable experiences in his life. No woman could compare to her. He’d done the right thing and tucked her into bed, but he was left with a painfully engorged erection in his pants. Nothing a little hard work wouldn’t cure. He tried not to picture her milky skin or remember the mewling sounds when he made her come against his mouth. His priorities were shifting like rapidly moving northern lights. All he could think about was making Wendy’s life easier, making her want him as much as he did her, and proving he was as much a man as Wade Laweson. He stood at the edge of the fields, trying to imagine the desperation Wendy felt watching her crops wither and scorch under the sun. Jackson wanted to make her proud, be able to tell her he’d saved the day, but how? He wasn’t a farmer, and she had no modern equipment or irrigation. The weather didn’t affect him or his livelihood. All he needed to worry about was keeping his body fit and hanging on for those eight vital seconds. Now he needed to be so much more. He needed to be a hero.

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Chapter Six Wendy finally awoke, twisting about under the sheets. The room was dark, the orange and pink haze of dusk illuminating the shadowed room in a gentle haze of color. All at once, she remembered the current events. She’d let her boarder do explicit things to her body— and she’d loved every minute of it. But how could she face him again? What did it all mean? Her heart beat frantically as reality returned to her awakening mind. She slipped out of bed and dressed as the last remnants of daylight peeked in through the crack in the curtains. At least the temperature cooled in the evenings, giving reprieve from the never-ending heat during sunup. As she stepped into the hallway, the rest of the house was dark and silent, the creak in the hardwood echoing. “Christine?” she called out. After no reply, she knew her daughter would be having a late night out with friends. With the rodeo close to home, there was a constant flood of parties and events to get involved in. She had to remember her children weren’t kids anymore, but all adults, free to do as they pleased. “Jackson?” Wendy felt stronger than she had before falling asleep. A good nap was exactly what she needed, even though all her problems remained, including new ones thanks to her weakness with Jackson. Still, she craved more. She dug in the hall closet for her spare boots and tugged them on. Although Jackson said he was taking care of the chores, he may have forgotten something vital. In the very least, she needed to check the animals were secure for the night.

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The crickets droned, their song carrying across the prairies once she stepped out of the whiny screen door. Her boots crunched on the dried-out grass with each step. She could see everything that needed tending had been taken care of. Wendy had to stop for a minute and take it all in. She was used to being the only one responsible for everything, programmed not to count on another soul. Knowing Jackson was capable of doing things right, could take away some of her burden, was enlightening. A romantic partner could offer more than just a helping hand, but be someone to share life with and laugh with. After the sample Jackson gave her, it would also be someone she could share every level of intimacy with. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it all. After checking the barn, she climbed the wooden ladder to the hayloft. It was her private escape, a place of solace. Just smelling the rich, sweet scent of alfalfa, and looking across the land from her vantage point, settled her nerves. She had much to think about, but being here was what she needed, even if just for a few minutes. The orchard was beyond her sight, but as much as she should stay away, her mind nagged her to check on it. She’d nearly visited an early grave trying to water the trees, but it still twisted her heart into knots to sit back and let them die without fighting harder. With the sun nearly set, she wouldn’t have to worry about the effects of the sun weighing down on her. Maybe if she went slowly, and carried a windup lantern, she’d be able to water them enough to keep them alive another day. If she could swallow her pride, maybe she’d ask Wade to help her out. But she was scared he’d think she was using him because he had shown an interest in her. It wasn’t true. She had a soft spot for Wade, just as she did for Jackson. Her life had never been in such a tangle. Six or seven hours must have passed since she fell asleep. She held the lantern in her hand as she headed out to the orchard. The sun set quickly now, the great red globe dipping out of sight on the horizon. The residual light would soon vanish, leaving her in solid

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darkness. Wendy stopped at the well before heading to the orchard, but the bucket was missing. It must still be lying where she’d dropped it. As she walked the remaining distance to the orchard, shadows slowly dominated the land. She realized how alone she was, the darkness stealing her usual courage. Normally she worked a long day, starting at sunrise, but by sunset she was safely in the house. She wound the lantern again once she reached the perimeter of her orchard. The cranking sound obscene in the surrounding silence. Even with the artificial light, the area beyond her small bubble of illumination was a solid wall of blackness. It would be a challenge to find her bucket and cart the water while holding the lantern. But she had no choice because the alternative was far worse. Wendy tripped over an obstacle, which was punctuated by a deep, male groan. Her light was extinguished when it hit the hard-packed earth, so she was night blind. She crawled up to her hands, reaching around blindly for the lantern. What was she thinking coming out here at this hour? She flicked on the light and held it up to scan the area. “Jackson?” Wendy set the lantern on the ground and rose to her knees. Her boarder was bare-chested, sweat slick, dirty, and appeared near death. His eyes were closed, a grimace on his face. “For the love of God, what have you done?” He’d come out here to take over her task of watering the trees. The evidence was all around her, dark patches on the parched earth under each tree. He must have come out as soon as she fell asleep. She had no idea he’d do such a thing since he and Wade were so against her trying to save the young trees. They’d each preached about the inevitability of trying to water the orchard by hand in the middle of a drought. Why had he done it? He groaned again, draping a forearm over his eyes. “Jackson, you have to get up.” Wendy was in her element. Caring for others was what she did best. She had to get him back to the house, wash him down, hydrate him, and then give him some vitaminrich soup broth before watching over him as he slept. It all seemed so

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familiar, exactly what she’d done to herself in the morning. But she couldn’t worry about the irony now because when a grown man collapsed from exhaustion, it was always a serious affair. “I did it, darlin’,” he muttered, barely audible. “Fixed the…watering hole…love me now—” “That’s enough talking. You’re delusional, Jackson. Can you get to your feet?” He started to scramble to his side, the muscles in his arms straining as he attempted to push up to his knees. “I’ll help you, but you’re too heavy for me to carry.” He was the size of her son, a big man weighing a solid two hundred pounds. It took many tries, but when he finally staggered to two feet, she had to take the brunt of his weight on her shoulders because his balance was shot. They made a poor team with him being so much taller, but she was all he had. As they inched their way closer to the house, her thoughts were free to wander. Jackson was a drifter, no relation to her, yet he took it upon himself to try and help her. He’d watered her trees until he literally dropped down from exhaustion and dehydration. He did care about her concerns, and acted on making a difference. She saw him in a new light, a light of possibilities. How could she not have stronger feelings for the younger man after such a selfless act? They nearly fell through the back door. She kept her arms around his bare waist. His skin was so warm despite the evening chill. Wendy sighed in relief when she finally got him onto his bed. He dropped heavily onto the mattress. She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Was it wrong that she savored every ridge of muscle from his shoulders to arms, chest, and abs? He needed her to be a caregiver with thoughts of medical concoctions and natural remedies, not erotic images of what awaited just below his silver buckle. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back.” As she attempted to rise to her feet, Jackson’s hand jerked out and grabbed her arm.

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“Did I do good?” She smiled. “You did good, cowboy.” A wave of unexpected emotion rolled up within her. She needed out of the room before she fell apart. It meant a lot to have another person care about the same things as her. Wendy added an ice cube to a tall glass of water. She stood in front of the kitchen sink, looking out in to the dark fields, the partial moon watching her from its perch in the heavens. For the first time in a long time, she worried more about something other than her crops. The phone rang. “Hello?” “What are you doing answering the phone? You should be resting.” Wade’s voice was a comfort, a deep caress in uncertain times. He was a rock, always there to pick her off the ground if only she said the word. She was getting close to that place, the edge where she knew it was better to ask for help than jump the cliff. Now Jackson had made himself sick to keep her legacy going. There had to be a better way. “I’ve been resting all day. I just woke up and found Jackson worked to the bone in my orchard. He’s not even coherent.” “You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought that boy had some sense in him, but I guess I was wrong.” “He’s not a boy, Wade. In fact, I think he proved himself to be very much a man tonight.” Part of her wanted the men to bond. Wade had no son, and Jackson no father. It would be good for them to form a friendship with her in the center. Foolish thoughts. A piece of her cared for each man, wanted to build something stronger. For the first time in her life she was willing to take a chance on a new relationship. Now that she’d seen what she was missing in her life, that it was possible to love again, she didn’t want to turn back time and live in denial. “I’ll come over. You should be resting, not taking care of him.”

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“I’m doing fine. In fact, I’m thankful that at least one other person understood my plight. We’re not all wealthy cattle ranchers, Wade. Some of us rely on their crops in order to eat.” “Darlin’, I don’t want to see your orchard turn to ash, but you’ve got to pick your battles. Are you willing to sacrifice your health, your life, your soul?” “Maybe. Yes. What else do I have?” “Me, damn it. I want to help you, but you won’t let me.” “No, you want the woman you think I am. I’m nothing, Wade.” “I can change that, show you what it is to love again.” Her defenses rose, and she wasn’t even sure why. “I’ve never known love. That’s the problem. I’m incapable of it, so you best spend your energy on another woman.” She hung up the phone and collapsed in a kitchen chair. Her emotions were spent. The carefully erected shield she’d created decades ago was cracking and chipping in a matter of weeks. What did it mean that she never really loved a man, not even her own deceased husband? Was she a freak, a heartless monster destined to break hearts and live a lonely life? She knew she was pushing away Wade, when inside she wanted nothing more than to grasp onto him and allow him to fend off the world. She was sabotaging her own happiness and had no explanation for it. Wendy took a cleansing breath, then returned to Jackson’s room with the water. He was on his side, the lamp light accentuating every ridge of muscle. The young bronc rider had brought her to a peak she’d never known, and would no doubt be just as impressive a rider in bed as he was on a horse. But it had to be blasphemous to think of him in such sexual ways. He was nearly young enough to be her son with fifteen years separating them. It would be greedy and thoughtless of her to steal away a man in his prime for her own selfish needs. Once his infatuations wore off, he’d realize he had just committed his life to a middle-aged woman when he had so many good years left. She couldn’t give him children, and had little in terms of youthful beauty left.

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When she sat on the bed beside him, he opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I fell asleep in the orchard. I told myself I’d just take two winks, get my second wind, but the exhaustion took me.” “You did too much,” she said, brushing his hair from his forehead. His blue eyes were beautifully shaped, hypnotizing. Why hadn’t she noticed before now? He shook his head. “I didn’t do enough.” Jackson took the hand stroking him and kissed it. “I’m not sick, just overly tired. Promise I don’t need mothering.” Mothering? Was that how he saw her? “Just drink the water. It’ll make me feel better.” He leaned up on one elbow and drank the cool water while keeping his eyes locked with hers. The quiet, private moment carried a larger-than-life intimacy. Did he feel it, too? Was she a fool falling for a young stud when she had no right to think of him in such unholy ways? “Thank you.” He set the glass on the small table beside him. “It’s late, you should be getting to sleep.” “I feel terrible about today. Don’t you have to ride tomorrow? You’ll be in no shape.” “No matter. I’d rather stay here with you,'' he said, resting one hand on her thigh. Her body lit up when his fingers molded to the shaped of her leg, slightly squeezing the sensitive area. How would she survive a day with Jackson underfoot, assaulting her with his flirting and flattery? She’d fall victim again, further fusing their lives together. What would her daughters think about her dating a much younger man? Would they be disgusted? As much as she wanted to think about her own needs, the approval of her children was important to her. She’d devoted her life to them, raising them on her own, and providing them the opportunities she didn’t have being such a young mother with so many responsibilities. “You’re wasting your time.” “And traveling the circuit is a better life?”

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She took a deep breath. “Jackson, I’m forty-four years old.” She said it like a curse, and in a way it was. Her youth vanished while she was asleep or hiding from life. If she were younger, she’d grab hold of Jackson, but this wasn’t a fantasy. He smirked, not appearing revolted as she’d expected. “Really? You’re younger than I thought. Tell me, darlin’, why do you have a problem with me? Is it because I’m a cowboy, twenty-nine, or because you’re scared to love again?” “I’m not having this conversation.” She felt cornered, claustrophobic. “You should rest. Your faculties are obviously back in place.” She stood up and headed for the door. “Think about my question,” he called out as she left the room.

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Chapter Seven Wade had no plans on watching Wendy suffer. She may have refused his help in the past, but now she’d crossed the line by nearly killing herself doing things her way. They’d made progress the day before. She showed him a glimpse into the woman under the tough exterior. It was enough incentive for him to continue to court her. The drought ravaging the south end of the province showed no signs of letting up. He couldn’t do anything for her wheat crop. It was probably only good for straw at this point. But he could try and help with her new orchard just as her boarder had. Wade could understand why the young cowboy was smitten with Wendy, willing to risk his health to make her proud. She was an enigma of a woman with delicate beauty and a vibrant inner strength. As soon as the men showed up with the water truck, he waved out his window for them to follow. He drove his pickup up the dirt road to the next ranch over. Wade wasn’t sure how Wendy would take his presence, but she’d accept his help whether she liked it or not. The woman was too stubborn for her own good. He spotted her truck as he pulled up to her ranch, another one, too, probably the boarder’s. It did give him a dose of possessiveness knowing another man was living under her roof, able to be close to her each day. Both things he coveted. The water truck pulled up alongside him. It had been a miracle he was able to get the service in the first place. They were booked solid thanks to the drought, and the price was a testament to the demand. “The orchard’s about half a mile out. We’ll take the path along the left side of the house,” he said to the passenger of the five-ton truck.

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He continued on ahead, wondering how long until Wendy showed up raising hell for his interference. When they reached their destination, he stepped out of his truck as the men got to work. The trees would get a good watering, and God willing they’d get rain within a week. He’d never seen the orchard until now. It amazed him knowing Wendy single-handedly planted every tree. She was one of a kind, doing things most men couldn’t accomplish on their own. She’d make a fine wife if only she’d open herself up to the possibility. Just as he’d suspected, Wendy was on their tail. A horse riding toward him stirred up dust as it galloped along. The land resembled a desert, and it would only take one careless spark to set acres of land into an inferno. As the horse neared, he noticed Wendy’s blonde hair loosely fluttering behind her. His heart skipped a beat when she was close enough for him to see the blue of her eyes. “What on God’s green earth do you think you’re doing, Laweson?” She dismounted before coming to a full stop, a regular cowgirl in the saddle. “Doing what you should have let me do weeks ago.” She took a few steps forward, looking around the orchard, and sizing up the noisy truck which left an unattractive path through her property. “A watering truck? I can’t pay for this.” “I’m paying.” “Why?” She still looked genuinely clueless as to why he’d offer to help her. “Because neighbors help out neighbors when they need it, and because I’ve been trying to get through to you since I moved in next door.” As she watched the water freely flowing through the orchard, her eyes mirrored the shimmering liquid. “You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured.

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He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. She melted against his frame when he fully expected her to bolt away. “I want to help.” “You have no idea what this orchard means to me. It’s something I started on my own, and it wasn’t easy. To see it all turn to firewood would have been too much.” “It’s been a wicked year for farming. We have to stick together in times like these.” She looked up at him, her forearms resting on his chest as he held her. “Have you helped all your other neighbors in the same way?” He smirked. “Maybe not quite as much.” “Well, thank you. I probably would have refused your help if you’d asked, so I’m glad you came.” “You need to stop that, Wendy. I want you to use me.” In every possible way. He dreamt of Wendy half the night most nights, and she invaded his thoughts during the day. His goal was to garner her attention, get her to realize they were perfect for each other. How long until she admitted there were sparks between them? The corn roasts, the hay rides, the random encounters in town. For years he’d built up his respect and attraction for the widow. So close, but so far out of reach. “What if I’m scared?” “It’s only natural, baby doll. New things don’t automatically mean they’re bad though.” She played with the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t have anything to offer you, Wade.” **** Wendy still couldn’t understand why a wealthy, irresistibly handsome rancher like Wade Laweson would waste his energy on a woman like her. Though she did savor his attention. He made her feel

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young, special, beautiful. He was pure strength—from his physical body, to his power in the community, to the way he spoke. “Why would you say that? Because you don’t have money to burn? I have enough of that, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He tilted her chin up. “I’ve never met a stronger woman.” Then he whispered, “And you’re prettier than a summer rose.” She closed her eyes, savoring the sweet words, praying they were true. After chiding her girls anytime they trusted a man, teaching them not to believe a word they spoke, she began to believe it all herself. Her intention was to keep her girls safe. They didn’t have a protective father watching over them, and she wanted to make sure they never got hurt by a man. But surely there were good men out there—like Wade and Jackson. Her heart plummeted when she thought of her boarder, busily working on her barn roof. She’d insisted for him not to do her work for her, but he was mulish, not listening to her protests. It had been an arousing sight watching Jackson shirtless and sweat glistened on his hands and knees, hammering away on the roof. How could she love two men? Each day it seemed she gave them each another piece of her heart until they’d soon own a half. But that wasn’t fair to either of them. She wasn’t expecting Wade to kiss her, but he did. With his finger still under her chin, he pressed his lips to hers. His were thick and warm, pleasant as they brushed against hers. The arm around her tightened, bringing the length of her body flush with his. She could feel the rigid line of his cock against her stomach, reminding her that despite being older than Jackson, Wade was a virile, healthy man. “I love your lips, darlin’.” He deepened their kiss, his mouth parting slightly. She savored this new intimacy, Wade’s erotic domination. How far would he go? Had he dreamt of fucking her, of doing illicit things to her body like Jackson had? Just thinking about it made her pussy moisten. She felt wanton whenever in the presence of these two men, as if they both held the key to her libido.

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He entered her mouth with his tongue, and her eyes rolled back in her head as he claimed her. She joined him, tasting, sucking, and kissing with all the passion she’d stifled over the years. How many times had she wanted to say yes, but instead pushed him away? Wendy thought she was doing the right thing for herself and her children, keeping her role as respectable widow intact. Now she realized she couldn’t ignore the woman forever. Her children were grown, the last leaving soon. Then what? She had no passion for her wheat, having burnt herself out over the years. It was only one headache after the other and too much work for her to handle on her own. She only farmed it out of necessity. It had been her only source of income for as long as she could remember. The sound of the water pump died off, bringing them back to reality. She could have stayed in Wade’s arms forever, kissing him, wrapped in his protective embrace. “Looks like the job’s done,” said one of the workers. “Thanks again for squeezing me in,” said Wade. “I certainly appreciate it.” The other man nodded his head and boarded the water truck. Once they were alone in the orchard, no prying eyes or distractions, he smiled at her. He looked so much younger when he smiled, a cute dimple deep in his cheek. “I should get you back to the house before I forget I’m a gentleman.” “What if I don’t want you to be?” she dared. He froze, his gaze roaming over her body like a warm caress. Everywhere his eyes met burned her flesh with the strength of the sun. “Then I’d show you how a man should pleasure a woman. I’d take my time with you, attend every inch of your body.” She could barely breathe. Never in her life had she spoken like this, talked about sex with another man. It felt wrong, but also the most titillating thing she’d ever done. “Have you had many women?” “Enough to learn what makes them beg for more.”

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“Like what?” Her pussy pulsed and tingled, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. She was losing her inhibitions by the second. Wade smirked as he led her to his truck. “I’ll tell you a little secret,” he whispered in her ear as he turned her to face the side of his pickup. His breath was warm and tantalizing against her neck. “I can make you come with just my fingers. Do you want to know what that feels like?” Normally she’d cringe at the crudeness of his words, but she’d started this, wanted it. She nodded, entering new territory and not knowing what to expect. Wade leaned against her back, pressing her to the cool metal of his quad cab. She rested her cheek against the glass of the window as he snaked his hands around her to unzip her jeans. Her heart beat so fast she swore it would pound right out of her chest. “Relax, darlin’. Lord knows I’d never do a thing to hurt you.” Wendy believed him. After all these years of trying, he never lost patience, never gave up. If he was only after one thing, he would have given up long ago. Wade slipped his hand in her pants as slowly as melting wax. Every cell came to life as he reached lower, his rough fingers grazing her silky skin as he slipped under the lip of her panties. She gasped as he cupped her mound. He was in complete control, and she was willing, finally reaching that point in her life where she needed to submit. Her tough veneer was just that, a facade that was too difficult to keep in place with so many worries weighing down on her. But thoughts of Kylie’s bad choices, her scorched wheat, and budding feelings for two men were only an afterthought as she braced herself against the truck. He tongued the shell of her ear as he began to rub slow circles around her clit. She sunk, her knees weak, but he held her in place. The warm breeze fluttered her hair, reminding her they were out in the open. He was relentless, continuing to arouse her with just those two skilled fingers.

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He ground his steely erection against her back with a growl. “With just my fingers,” he reminded. Then he reached lower into her jeans and impaled those two digits into her cunt. The pressure and fullness, even if slight, brought her sweet relief. She knew what she needed now. After all these long, lonely, dry years, Wendy needed to be fucked. As much as it felt foreign, as much as it hurt, she needed to move on. “Wade!” she cried out. He thrust his fingers in and out of her pussy while stimulating her clit with his thumb. She’d expect him to have a cramp by now, but he was ruthless, untiring. “I want to touch you so bad,” he murmured. “You have no idea the things I’d love to do to your gorgeous body.” Wade continued to roll her clit until her body burned for release. “But I told you I’d make you come with just my fingers, and I always keep my promises.” She didn’t want him to keep them in this case. Wendy wanted him to give her everything—his kiss, his touch, his cock…maybe even his love. “Maybe you should stop,” she managed to say between breaths. She was so close to losing precious control. It would be intense to orgasm against the side of his pickup with his fingers impaled in her pussy. He’d always known her as a strong woman, and she’d never given in to his advances. Any second and she’d be putty in his hands, weak in his eyes. Why did she care so much what he thought of her? “You’ve got to be joking, darlin’. I can feel your little pearl pulsing under my thumb. You won’t last more than a minute.” How did he know that? She was fighting not to come, focusing on the pleasure and not the finish line. But Wade always got what he wanted in the end, even her heart it seemed. He curled his fingers ever so slightly, hitting a G-spot she never knew existed. She gasped as liquid heat seeped from her body, and a great eruption of power and heat detonated in her core. Her pussy grasped Wade’s fingers, squeezing them as her contractions rode on and on before finally easing. Wendy was spineless, breathless, her mind in a sex-induced haze. “Now just imagine what I could do with more than two fingers.”

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Chapter Eight Wendy had been avoiding him when he finally felt a closeness between them. He thought things would move to the next step, and he’d even given serious thought to the future. If need be he’d leave the rodeo, settle down and farm like a family man. Anything to make Wendy happy. Jackson knew he couldn’t keep up his lifestyle forever unless he wanted to meet an early grave. The rodeo was for young men with a death wish, not men who wanted forever with one special woman. He came home late one evening, expecting to head straight to bed, but was greeted with hollering as soon as he neared the house. Jackson opened the door, the soft light from the kitchen illuminating the hallway. He slipped off his vest and hung it on the coat tree. “Do you think I want this for you? All the sacrifices I’ve made and you treat your life with such disregard?” Wendy was shouting loud enough to ring in his ears. She was usually a quiet, thoughtful woman, not easy to rile. “I love him!” screamed Kylie. “You don’t! You’re obsessed, lookin’ for love where you have no right. If your father were here he’d never—” “Well he ain’t here. He never will be here either!” He heard a smack and then Wendy rushed out into the hall, colliding with him before he reached the kitchen. She looked up at him briefly, but continued to storm off to her room and slam the door shut. Jackson would have to find out what was going on, but he figured she’d benefit with a few minutes on her own first.

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He entered the kitchen. Kylie was hunched over the wooden table, crying into her folded arms. Her back convulsed in deep waves. It was usually Christine at home most evenings, not Kylie. But he’d still gotten to know her since moving in. “You all right?” She shook her head, not looking up. “Come on now. I’m not your mother. You can talk to me, and it may just make you feel better.” Kylie said nothing, but lifted her head to look at him. Her right eye was purple and swollen shut, obviously from being hit by a man. “Who the fuck did that to you? Was it that clown Jason?” “He didn’t mean it,” she said. “The fuck he didn’t.” He grabbed a wooden chair and twisted it around, straddling it so he could face her. “Darlin’, real men don’t hit women. Cowboys know better if they were raised proper. He should never have put his filthy hands on you.” “It was my fault. I wanted him to take me to a party, but he wanted to go out with his friends.” He clenched his jaw, trying to hold on to his temper when it was threatening to take over. While he had a daddy, he was taught how to respect a woman. His mother was always kindhearted and loving to him, and Jackson could never tolerate other men abusing any woman. “Where’s he at?” “Why?” “You best tell me, girl. One phone call and I can find out anyway.” She cried harder, shaking her head back and forth. “Jackson, please. Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it.” “Where?” he demanded, deepening his tone. She reluctantly gave him the address where he could find the punk. Jason was Kylie’s age, a twenty-two-year-old loser going nowhere fast. Now that he’d added beating women to his résumé, Jackson would show him what it felt like to be picked on by someone

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bigger than him. Even though nothing had been cemented, especially as of late, he considered Wendy his woman. It was his responsibility to make things right for her. He grabbed his vest and dug in his pocket for his truck keys. Wendy came out of her room, her eyes red rimmed, as he opened the main door to leave. He met her gaze, and time seemed to stand still for those few seconds. She’d try and stop him, so he left without a word. **** “Where’s he going?” Wendy asked her daughter. Kylie had made foolish choices against her better judgement, but Jackson was innocent in it all. If he was going where she suspected, he was in danger. “You know where. Down to Lackey’s River to find Jason.” She started to cry again, sulking like a small child. “Who are you worried about? Jason or Jackson?” “Jason, of course! Jackson will rip him to pieces, or didn’t you notice the size of him? Who the hell does he think he is anyway?” Wendy slapped her open palm on the table. “Bite your tongue, young lady! Jackson’s off to a certain death sentence. Jason’s not alone at the river. He’ll be plastered drunk with half a dozen other nogood losers.” Kylie’s demeanour shifted, her fear becoming concern. She pressed her lips into a straight line, but knew enough to keep her mouth shut. With the sun set, her sense of urgency increased. Wendy’s mind raced, processing thoughts and solutions at an alarming rate. She snatched her keys off the hook in the kitchen. “Stay inside and lock the doors. Put some frozen peas in an ice bag and lie down until I get home. I’ll let the dogs out when I leave.” “You’re not going after him, Ma?”

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“No, but I’m getting help.” Wendy drove without caution, her truck bounding over the rough dirt road. The headlights wavered with each dip, only giving her a partial view of the road in front of her. As her body jostled in the old pickup, all she could think about was Jackson heading into a death trap. Those Cavenish boys and their friends were trouble and then some. She pulled into the well-lit Laweson Ranch. The exterior lights illuminated the winding path to the house. Wendy braked abruptly, and then ran to the porch, her lungs burning. She pounded on the solid wooden door, ignored the dull ache in her knuckles. Why isn’t he answering? After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, the door opened. When Wade first saw her, a big grin lit up his face, until he saw the panic in her eyes. “What’s the matter, baby doll?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her inside. The house had a comforting glow, the scent of apples and cinnamon lingering in the air. “Come sit down, and I’ll get you a mug of warm cider. I pressed it myself this morning.” She wouldn’t let him bring her further into the house. “I need your help, Wade.” “Of course. That’s what I’m here for.” Wendy wasn’t sure how to explain she needed help finding Jackson without creating feelings of indifference. Both men wanted her, and she wanted both of them, so there was bound to be a confrontation of great magnitude sooner or later. But all those male emotions of jealousy and possessiveness had to be put on the back burner tonight. Jackson was in trouble, and any good man should want to help another if he could. “Jason hit Kylie. When Jackson found out, he freaked and headed out to the river to find him.”

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“Doesn’t he realize how many guys will be down there at this hour?” “No, which is why I have to find him.” Wade didn’t ask her twenty questions or get an attitude with her. He just pulled on a padded jacket from the closet by the door before grabbing his rifle. “Let’s go.” They took Wade’s truck. It was more reliable than hers. Once they were on the road, the immediate urgency temporarily calmed, he reached over and placed a hand on her knee. “How’s Kylie?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “She’ll be fine. Nothing time won’t heal.” As much as she was worried for Jackson, her heart still broke for her youngest child. She’d chosen a man who beat her, and didn’t see a problem with it. Wendy wanted better for her daughter. Her two eldest were happily married, and Christine had a good head on her shoulders. Leave it to her baby to bring her such heartache. As they neared the river, there was no lighting but the headlights in front of them. It was too quiet. Even with their windows rolled halfway down, she couldn’t hear any hooting or hollering that usually accompanied an area overrun with drunks and partygoers. Not even the chirp of insects could be heard. “This is where he’d come,” she whispered, her nerves on edge. “It’s the place Kylie said Jason would be.” Maybe Jackson had come by and not found Jason. He could be home wondering where she was. She had to keep telling herself that to keep from thinking about what probably happened—that he was near dead in the brush or worse. “Something ain’t right.” Wade slowed to a crawl, rocks grinding under the tires, and twigs snapping, as they followed the narrow back roads along the side of the forest. There were a couple outlines of cars in the clearing ahead. “Wait here. It’s safer.” “I’m coming with you.” She slipped out of the truck once he cut the engine and met him around the front. The shadows of trees to their right and bushes along the river’s edge to their left were foreboding.

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A car door slammed and an engine started to life. There was a scuffle ahead, and Wade took off running toward it, rifle cocked and loaded in hand. She could barely keep up, never having good night vision herself. “Who’s there?” he called out, his voice deep and authoritative. **** Jackson held his side as he tried to work his way up to his feet. A moment ago he'd been rolling on the moist grass, giving and taking punishment. He could hear Wade of all people. His presence had scared off the last of those no-good punks. He’d been hurt, but still held his own against the group of men. His knuckles still burned from all the damage he’d inflicted. His blood still burned hot, his adrenaline raging through his veins. No one messed with his woman. “Let’s get out of here.” Muffled voices echoed out of sight. Another car door slammed. “Grab his arms and get him in the backseat.” He chuckled to himself. The pussies were running off with their tails between their legs. It had been six to one during the start of the brawl, but Jackson never backed down for a minute. Jason was a coward, ready to raise his hand to an innocent woman, but pathetic when faced with a real opponent. The little shit nearly pissed his pants when Jackson knocked him a new one. If it wasn’t for his friends holding him back, Jackson may never have stopped. He’d only seen red, thinking of how badly Jason had hurt Kylie and upset Wendy. “I know you’re there, don’t be fools,” said Wade. He got their attention by firing a shot in the air above their heads. The deafening blast briefly brought the forest to life, the sound carrying on the wind. Everything came to a standstill. “I’ve been shooting since I could walk, so it’d be wise for you all to keep still and not provide me with a moving target to aim at.” “Where’s Jackson?” Wendy called out.

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“Right here, darlin’.” Hearing Wendy's sweet voice was music to his ears. Everything he’d done was for her. “And Jason?” “I believe they’re loading him in a car now,” said Jackson. She followed his voice through the dark. When she reached him she immediately leapt up against him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He groaned, but stifled the sound. At least one of his ribs had to be broken. It wasn’t the first time. A man didn't escape unscathed from the ring very often. “You’re hurt.” “It’s nothin’. You should have seen the other guy.” He chuckled, but also tried to stop. His ribs were too sore to be jostled. Another engine fired to life in the near distance. “You’ll pay for this!” It was Jason's voice, a drunken slur. “I’d watch your backs if I were you!” The yellowbelly was quick to taunt now that he was safely in his car, surrounded by his friends. A few minutes ago he was begging for his life, crying like a babe for a teat. As the other two cars started to drive off, their headlights giving the area a wash of light, Wade fired another shot into the air and then aimed and fired at the rear tires of each car. It created a deafening pop, but didn’t stop their retreat. He felt good Wade had done it just as well. “I was so worried. Why’d you run off before I could stop you?” she asked, still holding on to Jackson, but not pressing as tight to his chest. “Exactly. You would have stopped me. Jason needed a good asswhooping. I warned him never to even look at Kylie again or I’d be paying him another visit.” “Good man,” said Wade. “That sounds just like what I would have done.” Jackson felt a connection with the other man, a camaraderie. They both had the same train of thought—Jason needed a lesson. But now the lily-livered drunk had uttered threats, leaving the door open for

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more crimes against Wendy and her daughter. A deep-seated rage boiled up inside him. He should have finished him while he had the chance. Apparently a good beating wasn't enough of a deterrent for Jason, or maybe they were just idle threats to soothe his ego. Time would tell if Jason continued to pose a threat to his woman.

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Chapter Nine Wendy sat in her hayloft, watching her ruined wheat blow peacefully in the breeze. Still no rain, and she’d given up hope in a miracle. Christine went with Kylie to get things settled at her new dorm in the city, so she wasn’t expecting them back for a day or two. It was just her and her thoughts. She’d woken early to watch the sun rise. It was one of her favorite sights, a source of inspiration, and fuel to get through each day. Wendy tried to decipher her self-destructive tendencies over the years. She’d hid behind the death of her husband as an excuse to keep emotionally guarded. And she was emotionally guarded to avoid dealing with the pain. It was a vicious cycle that only she could break. Two good men had been planted in her life for a reason. She had to face her pain and stop closing herself off to new possibilities. People could love again, she knew that now because she felt it growing inside her. Every time she saw Jackson or Wade her heartbeat quickened. When they were away, she pined for them. Wendy felt like a love-struck teenager, but it wasn’t too far from the truth since she’d put off her romantic needs for most of her adult life. Everything felt new and potent. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Why didn’t you wake me?” She looked down to the yard below. “I’m not working, just sitting. Besides, I want you to get some rest.” Jackson disappeared into the barn and emerged from the trapdoor in the hayloft a minute later. He looked gorgeous with the earlymorning light reflecting in his eyes, his hair dishevelled, and jaw unshaved.

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“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he said as he flopped down on the pile of saddle blankets beside her. Jackson rested on his side, his head propped up by his elbow. “I’m wondering why you’re not properly dressed.” He was shirtless, his jeans not even done up right. His belt was unbuckled, flapping open. There wasn’t an extra ounce of fat on his body, just toned muscle. The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Does it bother you?” She scowled. “You might catch cold,” she said, trying to disguise her burning need to touch him. It was bad enough she couldn’t avert her eyes. “Then you could warm me up, couldn’t you?” He shifted closer, pushing his weight up on his arm. She flinched when he reached for her face. “Stop fighting me, Wendy. I care about you.” “I’m not a young woman anymore, Jackson. You could have any girl you want.” He cupped a hand behind her head and gently brought her down to his level. “I ain’t interested in girls. And it’s you I want. Only you.” His lips brushed hers, as sweet and tender as the wind caressing the wheat. She melted against him, kissing deeper, savoring the connection. Jackson was a dirty-blond Adonis and what was she? The old maid? But every touch, every kiss, made her feel more desirable, more worthy. For some wild reason, the young cowboy wanted her, so why should she question it? She had to reach forward to stabilize herself when he pulled her lower. His shoulder was solid and warm, his bare skin intimate to the touch. All she could think about was how he’d brought her to orgasm with his mouth. Jackson didn’t relent until she was lying beside him on the blankets. Part of her knew she was about to have sex. The unspoken promise was in the air all around them. It had been a long time coming for Wendy, and she was glad her first time with a new man was in the loft and not the house. She’d always associate the house as their home, and maybe the only way for her to move on with

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life was to start fresh in a new place. But for now, the barn would suffice. “You work too hard,” he said once he flipped her under him. Jackson stroked her hair back, studying her face. She saw genuine adoration in his gaze. “I wish I could give you everything you deserve, but I’m not a wealthy man.” “When did I ever ask for money?” Jackson was young, and a hard worker. He devoted himself to his sport, keeping in shape and travelling the circuit. She would never judge him for his lack of a cushioned bank account. Her only worry was the day he’d head back on the road, chasing the next event…and forgetting her. “You don’t understand how it is for a man. I want to be able to provide for you, make you proud to be my woman.” His woman? While part of her revelled in those two little words, another part was terrified. Could she handle a new relationship? She didn’t want to keep wondering, guessing, dreaming. Wendy wanted to take the plunge, to lose herself in the virile cowboy and fuck the consequences. She needed to know what it would feel like on the other side, as a woman who’d moved on. Would she be ashamed of herself for not continuing to live in suspended animation? Or would she realize giving herself to a new man was exactly what she’d been missing? Wendy felt a foreign boldness strike within her. She didn’t want to talk anymore. In fact, she was sick and tired of thinking, worrying, and discussing. She wanted to lose herself in Jackson’s strength, to feel him conquer her body and make her his. “There are other ways for a man to prove himself to a woman.” He pulled his head back and cocked an eyebrow. “Is there now?” She nodded, eager for him to start showing her what he was made of. Her pussy was drowning in her own juices, her nipples beaded, and heart pounding. She couldn’t be any more ready than she was now.

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“In that case, you’ll be begging me to be your man.” Then he whispered against her ear, “No man will fuck you harder than me, darlin’.” She imagined he’d be plenty pent up from all their intimate encounters that left him unsatisfied. He was also young, strong, and used to riding broncs on a daily basis. Wendy felt a slight twinge of trepidation as she imagined the cowboy mounting her and fucking her raw, but only a twinge. He dropped his head forward and kissed her hard, demanding. She’d given him the permission he needed, and he wasn’t wasting the chance. As he supported his weight over her, he used his free hand to unzip his jeans. She could scarcely recall what a man’s cock looked like, never mind filling her body. The sound of his zipper lowering registered loud and clear, even with his sensual assault of her mouth. “You’re tense again,” he said, trailing kisses along her jawline to that insatiable erogenous zone around her ear. “No need. I’ll go nice and slow.” Then he added, “This time.” Jackson unbuttoned her jeans next. She was actually doing this. It was too difficult to pull her Levi’s down her hips in their current position, so he rose to his knees and hooked his hands at the waistband on either side of her. He tugged the material off, along with her panties. When she looked up from her bed of blankets, she saw his monster cock jutting out from his jeans. It was huge and hungry. She swallowed hard, wondering if it would even fit inside of her, and imagining how satisfying it would feel if it did. “Take off your shirt. I want you naked.” She did as he asked because she was committed to seeing this through. Her body wasn’t something to write home about, but for her age, she was proud of her figure. She worked hard and it showed. Her body was lean and healthy, but wouldn’t be too impressive to a young buck like Jackson. She hated the thought of him comparing her to the twenty-year-old one-night stands he probably had over the years. He licked his lips like a predator moving in for the kill, his eyes narrowed and focused on her intimate parts. When he dropped back

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down over her, their bare skin colliding was electric. A bond was formed just lying together skin to skin, no barrier between them. His cock was prodding her thighs, more like a metal rod, not a part of his anatomy. “Are you ready?” “Do cowboys normally talk this much?” He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” **** Jackson’s ribs ached from where he’d been struck with a crowbar by one of Jason’s friends. He didn’t tell Wendy about it because she had enough on her plate with Kylie and her ailing farm. Besides, they weren’t broken, just sore as all hell. The beauty under him was an excellent distraction, and with all his blood racing to his cock, sex was the answer. After only getting reluctance or mixed signals, Wendy appeared anxious to get started. She writhed beneath him, her hips shifting this way and that as he prepared himself. He brought two fingers to her pussy to test her readiness. She was slick with moisture, beads of liquid leaking down to her ass. “You’re nice and wet for me,” he said. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck. So far she’d allowed him to be the aggressor, the instigator. She’d continually avoided touching him, not taking what she clearly wanted—until now. It felt like heaven to have Wendy’s hands on his body, exploring, caressing. He closed his eyes and savored her delicate fingers claiming him. His balls pulled up high, and his dick had never been so swollen. As much as he’d love to lie with Wendy all day, he had immediate needs that had to take precedence. He prodded her slick folds with the head of his cock, and teased her clit, distributing the abundance of moisture. When he finally sank the first inch of his erection inside her, he stalled, his eyes lolling back in his head. “You’re tight,

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Wendy.” Impossibly tight. He didn’t expect a woman of her age with four children to be so snug, but he welcomed the tight hug on his dick. “So freakin’ good,” he muttered as he sank deeper. He realized she’d frozen as he entered her, her legs locked at the sides of his hips, and her arms in a death grip around his neck. Jackson kissed her temple and then the tears forming at the corners of her closed eyes. He would have stopped, but they both knew she had to stop living in the past, sleeping with a dead man. Once he’d eased all the way inside her, he hooked his arms under her shoulders and held her close. “I love you,” he said, hoping the day came when she could honestly say it back. Maybe he was young and dumb, falling too hard and fast for Wendy, but he didn’t care. She’d awoken new feelings inside him, made him crave more than the status quo. Jackson felt torn, wanting to comfort her, but also wanting to continue what they started. When he began to pull out, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” she said. “I like it. Just be patient with me.” His nerves eased, and her words gave him the permission he needed to truly let loose. He began to work his hips into a fast rhythm, pushing deep, holding her to his chest. Wendy marked her shift from caution into untamed abandon with her throaty groans. The sound fuelled him, brought all his muscles to life. He’d be able to go all night long if he hadn’t been so pent up. But one thing he’d learned was that a real man let his woman finish first. With Wendy, it would be a challenge. The warm breeze blew the scent of sweet alfalfa into the loft. His body was already sweat glistened, his skin sliding against Wendy’s breasts with each upward thrust. He wanted to tell her to hurry, that hanging on was killing him, but he wouldn’t mar her first encounter in God knows how many years. She needed this, however long it took.

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When she began to calm, her body pliant, he knew she was transitioning, her body preparing for the explosive moment to come. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, but he managed to hear her when she said, “Don’t leave me.” What did she think? He’d move on to the next town without a backward glance? Jackson may have been a drifter for most of his adult life, but it wasn’t out of love. It was out of honor, and respect for what his father had taught him. But he was dead, leaving behind a grieving widow, just like Wendy’s husband had done to her. He wanted to make a change, to give up his path in life for one good woman. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.” He thrust harder, drowning in her heat, her scent, her touch. All his unfulfilled dreams of the past weeks paled in comparison to the real thing. She dug her nails into his back as she began to brace herself for climax. “Jackson…” He loved the sound of his name on her sweet lips. Bringing Wendy to her peak was what he was born to do. Her movements, sounds, and breathing all increased just before her pussy clamped down hard on his cock. He was thankful to finally be able to allow himself the release he’d been holding back. As the walls of her cunt milked him, he came hard. He groaned aloud as he spent himself inside her. “You’ve done me in, darlin’.” He rolled to his side, cringing from the shifting of his sore ribs. During sex he didn’t even remember his name, never mind his physical discomforts. Now they came back with a vengeance. “I knew it. You are hurt.” She rose to a sit, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, hitting the swell of her bare breast. With the sun shining down from the open loft doors, she looked like an angel, his angel. He shook his head. “You’re beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and never grow bored.”

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“Are you blind, cowboy?” she teased, grabbing for her shirt. He stilled her, holding her wrist. “I’ve never seen more clearly.” He finally let her dress. She was a tough woman, not comfortable with emotion. He was afraid that even though she’d asked him not to leave her at her most vulnerable, she’d feel different now that the sex was said and done. They should be talking, planning, sharing, but instead he knew she’d only get to work on the farm and pretend nothing happened, just like after he’d made her come with his tongue. He didn’t push her. Jackson could wait, but how long would it take her to realize there was something more between them than a passing fancy? Before long it would be time for him to pack up and leave, his time as a boarder over. Paying events would move to new towns, and he’d have to follow. Jackson watched the horizon from his vantage point in the barn loft, dreaming of a different life, one not as complicated as his. “Okay, sit up.” When he turned, he found Wendy fully dressed. The only proof she’d just been fucked was her hair being slightly dishevelled. “For what?” She held up a roll of tensor bandages used for horse legs. “I’m going to check your ribs and then bind you up.” He would have refused, but it felt good to have her fuss over him rather than walk away. “Lift your arms,” she said once kneeling beside him. He did as told, watching her as she moved. Entranced. She had a delicate grace with the know-how of an intelligent, working woman. “You’re babying me.” Wendy scowled, but continued to wrap the material around him. Each time she twisted it around his back, their cheeks brushed together as she reached forward. He wanted to kiss her so bad, nothing to do with sexual desire. “If you didn’t act so recklessly, this wouldn’t have happened.”

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“Wade said he’d have done the same thing.” He waited for her response, realizing the issue with the Laweson man was actually weighing heavily on his mind. Wade was closer to Wendy’s age, with money, a ranch, and stability Jackson didn’t possess. He saw the way she looked at him. Was Wendy using him as a boy toy until a relationship with Wade was settled? “Then you’re both fools. Going off to fight a battle alone, in the middle of the night, was beyond dangerous. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. There’re stories surrounding those boys, you know.” He swallowed hard. “I did it for you,” he whispered, desperate for her approval. She finished binding him, tucking the end of the bandage in snug. “I know, Jackson,” she said somberly, her eyes unfocused as she smoothed out the bandage. The sound of a truck rolling up the gravel drive broke the country hush. They both leaned out the loft to see who was stopping by. Of course, it was Wade Laweson.

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Chapter Ten Wendy used the distraction to get out of the loft. She was a mess inside. Sex with Jackson had been an experiment of sorts. As much as she wanted it, she had to see if she would be able to share such a deep level of intimacy with another man. She’d done it, but the answer wasn’t black and white like she’d hoped. When Jackson had penetrated her with his beautiful cock, she couldn’t help but think of her late husband. She still carried that deep-seated loyalty, even though their marriage officially ended with his death, so long ago. It was hard. Then Jackson had started to work her body, heating her blood, slipping in and out of her cunt with the stamina she’d expect from the young cowboy. It was enough to ease her mind and allow her to slip into that euphoric state. Maybe each time they coupled she’d forget a little more until it was only her and Jackson. Wade’s voice rang in her ears and traveled the length of her body. The complexity of her situation made her head ache. Even if she was able to commit to Jackson and put the past behind her, what of Wade? They’d made their own subtle promises to each other, and she wanted him no less. “There you are,” said Wade as he rounded the corner. “How you doing?” He had said he would come by to check on her, and the layers of his concern were evident in his tone. She felt caught in the spotlight, as if he knew what she’d just done with Jackson. “I’m fine.” “Kylie?”

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“She’s a big girl. Christine took her to the university with a truckload of supplies. I think it’s best for her to get away for a few days until everything settles down.” “You’re right, of course.” He smiled, his eyes warm and loving as he started at her. Wade reached out and felt a section of her hair between a thumb and finger. “I’ve always loved your hair. The color of wheat and sunshine.” How was he able to ensnare her with just a few words? She’d been an expert at avoiding him for well over ten years, and in a matter of weeks, she was ready to give it all up. “Wade…” She had to tell him the truth. It wouldn’t be right otherwise. She wanted to give him the chance he sought, eager for a relationship to work, but she’d just slept with Jackson and had feelings for him, too. “I know I said I’d give things a chance between us…” He took her hands in his. “What is it, baby doll?” She felt emotion well up inside her. If Wade gave up on her, she’d crack down the middle. He was her rock now that she’d finally opened her eyes to what he meant to her. Her apple orchard was given more borrowed time because of both men. They cared about her, and she wanted to do right by both of them. Just then Jackson came around the corner. She knew he was still half naked from all the flesh in her peripheral vision. Her heart sank. It would be worse for Wade to guess what had happened before she told him. “Mornin’,” said Jackson. “You’re holding up all right, then?” The young cowboy patted his chest too hard. “She’s got me wrapped up like a mummy.” Then he chuckled, joining her by her side. She could already sense the testosterone, the separate claim each man had over her sparking in the air. “Well, Wendy’s a good woman. I knew you’d be in good hands.” Wade adjusted his Stetson. “Those boys show up here at all?”

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She took over the conversation, afraid of what one may say to the other. “I think we’ve seen the last of them. Jason should be embarrassed and ashamed for everything he’s done to this family.” “I’d still feel safer if you stayed at my ranch for a few days. I have security that you don’t have here,” said Wade. “I’m here. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Wendy or the girls. I’d give my life for them in a heartbeat.” Jackson’s voice carried a possessive note that Wade must have heard. Those words traveled down the length of her, pooling between her legs. There was just something indescribable about a cowboy willing to risk it all for his woman—her. “Your life? You’ve been here what? A little over a month? That’s a little extreme under the circumstances.” Jackson took a threatening step forward, and Wendy put a palm to his chest. “Stop. Both of you.” What should she say? What could possibly fix the mess she’d created for herself? Last month her life was simple, nothing gained, nothing lost. She had no men to worry about because she avoided them like the plague, hiding behind her widow status. She wanted to keep both of them, but they were already fighting, showing off their feathers to win her favor. Jackson ignored her, continuing to face off with Wade. “It ain’t extreme if I love her.” Oh Lord, he didn’t. Her young, impulsive cowboy had just brought everything out in the open with those simple words. “It takes years to fall in love, boy, not weeks or months. What you have is an unhealthy bout of infatuation. I know Wendy’s a beautiful woman, but she’s smart enough to know when something’s real or not.” “I ain’t a boy.” Jackson held out his arms. “Guarantee you I’m a man. Ask Wendy, she knows.” Fuck. She put her hands to her ears, knowing she looked like a fool, but she couldn’t take their fighting. “For the love of all that’s holy!

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You’re both men, both worthy, and yes, I care about both of you. More than that. I can see my future when I look into each of your eyes. What does that mean about me? Am I fickle? A whore? All I know is that I could never choose one of you over the other. Age or status won’t change that fact.” Wendy knew these two alpha males would never be able to share. With her personal issues, it would be hard enough to fall in love with one man and build something of value, never mind twofold. Maybe she was destined to be alone. After her first taste of being truly awake after years of sexual and emotional hibernation, her season was coming to a close. Rather than see disgust or disappointment on their faces, she walked away, not daring to turn back. **** “What kind of game you playing?” asked Wade. This young buck was like all the other cowboy drifters he’d seen pass through town each season. They came for the glory, enjoyed as much pussy as they could, and then moved on with no commitments. Wendy was absolutely everything to Wade, his shining star on a moonless night. To watch some playboy come along and toy with her emotions, use her body, and then break the widow’s heart made him see red. “No game. What I said was true. I love her, and I’d do anything for her.” Wade remembered how he’d watered the apple trees by hand, and went looking for Jason when it wasn’t his fight. But if Jackson wasn’t a playboy, he’d only fallen in lust with Wendy. Young men were capable of falling hard, especially for a larger-than-life woman with eyes as blue as the sea. “What happens when the events dry up here? What then? You gonna move on and break her heart?” Jackson’s mouth opened but no words came out. “I’ll work the farm for her. I have no plans on leaving, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

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“She’s been running the farm just fine on her own, and I have a feeling her wheat crop is done. You just going to sit back then and be a burden on her? Another mouth to feed?” Wade had hit a soft spot. He could see the drifter’s jaw clench as he took in the words. Part of him felt guilty for bringing another man down, especially if he genuinely cared for Wendy. But he knew he could take care of his woman like she deserved. She needed to rest, to know what it felt like to be loved and pampered. Wade was the logical choice if she indeed chose one of them. “I can take care of her,” Jackson finally said. “How?” Jackson spun around, rubbing behind his neck with both hands. “Don’t matter. We love each other.” He pointed to the hayloft. “We just made love, and it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Fucking beautiful. She knows what she wants, too.” More than anything, Wade wanted to strike him, hit him so hard he’d topple to the ground, but he stood his ground. The other man was letting his passion talk, and he’d be best to remain the voice of reason. “Sex won’t pay the bills.” “Fuck. Stop telling me that. You’re just trying to steal her from under me.” “I’ve lived next door for fifteen years. If anyone loves that woman, it’s me. If anyone deserves her, it’s me. I’ve invested much more than you, cowboy. She’s my prize for waiting this long. And I’m the one who can take proper care of her. If you really love her, you’d want to see her happy—no worries, no troubles. I can ensure she has everything her little heart desires. Can you do that?” He stormed off, but called back over his shoulder. “Guess what, pal. Neither of us wins. That woman is incapable of love. Are you willing to give and give, but never receive? That’s something I can live with, can you?” Wade liked Jackson, his passion, his spunk, but not when they were competing for the same woman. He wished Wendy would have

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come to him, shared his bed instead. Although he hadn’t been living in abstinence the past many years, he’d kept away from relationships, emotionally charged encounters, or anything real. All because he was holding out for her. He could forget this indiscretion, as she was only human. Having the young stud under her roof day in day out would have been the ultimate temptation for her, especially when he was trying so damned hard to win her over. **** Jackson didn’t even bother to go inside to fetch his bag. He’d buy new clothes on the road. He needed to get the hell out of Dodge before he lost his mind. Wade Laweson made it perfectly clear who the better man for Wendy was. He’d have fought harder for her, but knew the other man was right. Jackson had nothing to offer but his love and his cock, both not enough when Wendy needed to be properly cared for. So he did the only thing he could think to do, which was step aside. It tore his heart to shreds, but he said he’d die for Wendy, and this was his test. He opened his whiny truck door and reached in the console for his smokes and lit up. He’d been trying to stop the wicked habit for Wendy, but that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was forgetting, anything to help ease the pain he felt. One day he was nothing—no roots, no plans, only the shirt on his back and a death wish. In such a short time Wendy transformed him. Now he wanted it all, the white picket fence, stability, the whole nine yards. But it was just a dream—one dangled in front of his face only to be snatched away. Just as his mother wanted that elusive family life, but was never granted it, the same would be true for Jackson. “Where you going?” Wendy spilled out onto the porch from the house, bracing the railing in both hands. He just shook his head, taking a drag so she could see. Why should he care anymore? He no longer cared about his health and

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didn't have to worry about the risk of setting Wendy's crop ablaze. Soon he’d be nothing more than a memory. He boarded the truck, slamming the door shut behind him. When he started up the engine, she ran across the lot toward him. “Don’t go!” she called out. If he stopped now, he’d never leave, and she deserved better. He didn’t look her in the eyes as he hit the gas, leaving the one place he thought he could finally call home.

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Chapter Eleven Wendy felt part of herself slipping away as Jackson’s truck left in a cloud of dust. She never expected she’d feel so strongly for a younger man, any man. But she now realized, even more than last night, that she needed him. She had no telephone number, no address, no way to find him again. Desperation crept into her heart. She couldn’t even follow him because her girls took the truck. She stormed around back. Wendy may not have told Wade she had feelings for Jackson, but that didn’t give him the right to scare him off. That was the only explanation. A few minutes ago Jackson was ready give her the world, and now he was gone. “What have you done? Jackson just tore out of here like a bat out of hell,” she shouted when she spotted Wade leaning against the barn, chewing nonchalantly on a piece of straw. “It’s not my doing. The boy probably just saw the light, realized he wasn’t ready to provide for a new family.” “And where’d he get that idea? You no doubt.” He pushed off from the wooden barn wall and moved toward her. His eyes were transfixed on hers. Even with her yelling, he wasn’t affected in the least. He was tall, commanding, all male. “Darlin’, think about what you want here. I’m not saying money is everything, but I can give you things Jackson never can.” “I don’t care about things.” “What are you saying? Are you choosing him over me?” For the briefest moment she saw a little boy in his eyes. She massaged her temples. “God help me, but I want both of you.”

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There was a long span of silence. “Really…” “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel. I never thought I could move on from the past, but for a brief glimpse I saw hope. God brought both of you into my life for a reason. I couldn’t give up on Jackson, even if I said yes to you.” She wanted to crawl into a hole, maybe rewind the past couple months and start over. It was easier when she felt nothing compared to all this regret and longing. “You’re right, you can’t.” He pulled her into a tight embrace when she expected him to push her away. Wade had just scared off Jackson, so she couldn’t imagine he’d enjoy hearing what she had to say. “And if I claim to love you half as much as that cowboy, I need to do whatever it takes to keep you happy.” **** He had one chance to make amends and put everything right with Wendy, Jackson, and himself. While Wendy assumed Jackson would be long gone, on the road to the next rodeo, he knew better. There were places riders socialized, and he had a good feeling the cowboy would be drowning his sorrows about now. Wade felt like a royal asshole, but he knew the key to salvation rested in his next moves. The country-and-western bar was filled to capacity. With the rodeo packing up, the riders and fans were getting in their last bit of fun before moving on. He scanned the room, looking over most of the heads to try and spot Jackson. There were a couple other places he could check before giving up, but this bar was the most promising. He recognized some faces, but most were strangers to him. “Laweson, that you?” A young blond who often did seasonal work on his ranch came up to greet him. “How’re you doing, Carter?” “Good.” He smiled, patting Wade on the shoulder. He smelled of alcohol. “Will you be needed help with the fall branding?”

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Normally he’d say yes. It was a massive undertaking for a herd the size of his, but he wasn’t sure if he’d need all the extra help yet. Everything in his life was on hold, balancing on his next actions. “Not sure yet, but I have your number.” They separated, and Wade pushed through the throngs of cowboys, the twang of country music drowning out the multitude of conversations. Then he spotted him in a far corner. Jackson leaned over his arms at a dimly lit table, a bottle in front of him. “They’re not supposed to give you the whole bottle,” he said, standing across from him. Jackson looked up, not bothering to lift his head all the way. “What do you want?” “Wendy’s upset with me that you left.” He shrugged. “Ain’t my problem. You said your piece, and I listened. It’s over now. You won.” Wade pulled up a chair and dragged it so they were sitting a breath apart. “Listen, I’ve made a mistake.” He took a cleansing breath, hoping the truth would set things right. “I talked to you about money and providing everything Wendy needs, but the God’s honest truth is that I’d give it all up for her. You may not have the financial means that I do, but you love her. You have passion and youth, things I’ve lost long ago.” Wade sat straighter, feeling uncomfortable, but at least Jackson was paying attention now. “I was scared, assuming she’d choose the better man—you.” Jackson chuckled, twirling the amber liquid around his glass, and watching it with morbid fascination. “I left because you were the better man. You can offer her money, security, and a home. I have nothing to give.” “If I could trade places with you, I would. I’d give up my wealth to get back twenty years of my youth. It’s no wonder Wendy looks at you with a hunger in her eyes.” “She looks at you like a woman in love. I’d rather that. I’m the young joke of a cowboy, good for only one thing.”

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They ended up talking for hours. Wade joined him in drinking, and reminiscing on childhoods past, farming, the rodeo, and of course, the elusive Mrs. McCay. By the time he paused to find out the time, it was past dinner hour. Wendy would wonder where on earth he’d disappeared to. “If I go back alone, she’ll skin me alive.” “You really expect she wants both of us? Surely she’ll have to choose eventually.” “The woman knows what she wants,” said Wade. “She made it plain that she needs both of us. Are you willing to disappoint her?” Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “Sharing?” he said reflectively. “It’s not the worst outcome. I still wonder if that woman is capable of love, but at least she’s not turning us away.” “I know I love her. If she needs two men to dote over her, then I’ll deal with it.” Wade was surprised Jackson easily agreed to a ménage relationship. Most men had insecurities or issues with control. It appeared the young cowboy was confident enough in himself to jump in, no questions asked. As for Wade, he’d mellowed over the years. He was only interested in peace and the love of a country woman at this point in his life. He’d be turning fifty soon, so his time for recklessness was behind him. **** Wendy had paced the shine off her old wooden floors as she waited for a phone call or visit from either Jackson or Wade. She was worried sick. Worried she may never see the young cowboy again, and worried she’d estranged herself from her neighbor. She’d admitted to wanting both men, so the worst of it was in the open. It was such a lewd thing to say aloud. But it’s what she wanted. Even

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with all the worry, she fantasized about taking Jackson and Wade at the same time , having their lips, hands, and cocks all over her body. She paced some more. How would she ever sleep tonight if she didn’t hear back? As the daylight hours slipped into evening, the redand-orange sunset fading to black, she had more than enough time to think and reflect. Wendy wasn’t accustomed to dating or schooled in how to treat a man. She’d been so set on survival and mothering mode, that she forgot all about love, sex, and the delicate bond between a man and woman. Now that she’d been awakened, she had to remind herself of the many changes she needed to undertake. She had to soften around the edges, give as much as she took. If those two cowboys ever showed up on her doorstep again, she’d demonstrate her love for them. After a quick glance out the window, she walked to the hall mirror. She messed with her hair, arranging it to be the most flattering. Wendy had never given much thought to her appearance, but now she felt the need to be appealing in Wade’s and Jackson’s eyes. She never wore makeup, and jeans were the staple of her wardrobe. Her mind wandered, and then she recalled the summer dress she once wore to her cousin’s wedding. Men appreciated femininity in a woman. Another half hour later and the bobbing light from a truck pulling up flooded the front window of the house. Her heart leapt. Then the one thought she hadn’t contemplated flashed in her head. What if only one of them came back? The door knocking sent her pulse racing. “Who is it?” she called out from the other side. “It’s me, Wade.” She sighed in relief, but also assumed he couldn’t find Jackson. Although her anger for Wade had diminished as she waited, her sadness had increased. She opened the door and found both her men standing there in the shadows of her porch. Her men? It sounded odd, but also right. They

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were hers. As soon as she’d emotionally committed to them, she considered Wade and Jackson to be a necessary part of her life. “He found me,” said Jackson. He looked tired, defeated, and she blamed herself for it. “Thank God for that.” She stood aside, allowing them entry. Tonight she’d have the house to herself again, and the possibilities had her folds moistening. The men brought the freshness of the night air inside, along with their subtle cologne and hint of alcohol. Wade stopped dead in front of her after she closed the door. With his cowboy boots on, and her in her bare feet, Wade appeared like a giant looking down on her. His size and rugged masculinity aroused her already hyperaware body. “I’ve never seen you in a dress. You look mighty beautiful.” “Blue’s your color, darlin’. It brings out your eyes,” said Jackson. They both assessed her, their gazes roaming up and down the fitted robin’s-egg blue dress. It had spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. She felt foolish wearing it at her age. It had been wrapped in plastic in the back of her closet for almost ten years. But the way the two men stared, their eyes hooded, lips parted, made her feel like a princess. A young, attractive, desired princess made for two knights. “I put it on with the two of you in mind. I’m glad you like it.” She clenched down hard to keep the thin stream of fluid from escaping her pussy. Wendy wanted to see those broad shoulders and hard chest without the layer of plaid. She wanted to see both their mighty cocks, hard and aroused for her. As soon as she had the thought, she instinctively glanced down at Wade’s crotch. His cock was bulging against the denim, as if the material had been shrink-wrapped over his erection. She swallowed hard. Both men were blessed with endowment. They moved in on her, like spirits possessed their bodies. She walked back until she hit the open brick wall beside the airtight fireplace. It was cool and rough on her bare shoulder blades. Jackson reached out and felt her arm as if she might be made of silk. He then

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trailed his fingers down the length of her arm, sending tingles through her body. When he reached her hand and directed it toward him, she thought he’d kiss her knuckles like a gentleman. Instead, he brought it to his groin, placing her palm over his cock. It was a hard, impressive package, begging to be let loose. The young stud was ready to go again after fucking her in the morning. She imagined he’d get hard on command, anytime she needed satisfaction. Like now. “That’s what you do to me, Wendy. I don’t care about your age or the fact you keep pushing me away. There’s nothing that will sour my love for you.” Wade stroked her hair, petting her, in his own world of fascination. Both men appeared equally smitten and neither fought for exclusivity. They were already sharing her, arousing her. She felt surrounded by so much cowboy heat that she was becoming drunk on desire. How far would they go? How far did she dare to push them? “I don’t want to drive you away. Either of you. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m tired of fighting, tired of not really living.” They made her feel loved, special, beautiful, and cared for. It was a refreshing change to her usual existence. If Jackson ran off again, or Wade turned his back on her, she wouldn’t be able to cope with the loss. Not after having a sample of what she was missing. “Never again. I’m not going anywhere, baby doll.” Wade’s deep, gruff voice sent a wash of heat through her pussy. Could they sense her need? Did they realize she wore no panties beneath the thin dress? “I’ve already told you I’m tired of traveling. I don’t want to die like my daddy, alone in the ring with a family sitting at home wishing he were there. This is my life, my choices, and I want to be with you.” Jackson melted her heart. He was so full of life, a mix of innocence and bad-boy appeal. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go, to care for him…love him. The word would feel foreign coming from her lips. It had been so long since she’d said it to a man. Had she even said it to her husband and truly meant it? She’d married so young that she wasn’t sure she knew what love was way back then.

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Tears pricked at her eyes, but she fought the wave of emotion before it made a fool of her. Jackson lightly slipped the thin strap of her dress over her shoulder. Wade did the same on the other side until the material coiled at her waist, exposing her breasts. She fought the instinct to cover herself, knowing it was only a matter of time until they got her naked tonight. “Look at those tits,” said Jackson. “Have you ever seen anything so sweet in your life? She tried to hide them from me earlier.” “Wendy has a lot to learn.” Wade cupped the breast closest to him and squeezed slightly. Her nipples instantly pebbled from the contact. “Look at those pretty little pearls. Just begging to be sucked. I bet her pussy would be ripe and moist if you checked.” Jackson smiled, a crooked tilt of his thick lips. “I’ll be checkin’.” He squatted down in front of her, his boots creaking as he moved. She braced herself as he coiled up the material to examine her level of arousal. “Good Lord the woman’s naked under her dress. She’s been waiting for us, I tell you. She wants to get double-fucked.” “Is she wet?” asked Wade, bending down to kiss her nipple. Wendy was thankful for the wall behind her when Jackson sank two fingers into her cunt. They slipped right in as if artificially lubricated. She’d never been so ready, so curious and excited for anything. He rose up to his feet, his back hunched over since his fingers were still inside her. She panted, feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the whole province to quench her need to breathe. “She’s hot and wet. I can feel her little pussy pulsing around my fingers.” He began to fuck her with those skilled digits. The thrusting of his arm seemed to excite the other man. The group mentality of the male beast unleashed at once. Wade covered her areola with his mouth, sucking and licking with just the precise amount of pressure to increase her arousal. She leaned heavily against the wall, giving into their ministrations. Wade began to pepper kisses up her chest, her neck, her face. When he poised in front of her, his eyes dark and menacing with pent-

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up lust, she held her breath. He kissed her, a brutal domination of her mouth that surprised her. She joined him, exploring him with her tongue, picking up the trace taste of alcohol. This was what she wanted, to see Wade raw and untamed. He was always strong and unmovable. To watch him slip into a state where he was controlled by his desires was reward enough. Jackson’s fingers slipped out, only to be replaced by his lively tongue. She broke the kiss to look down. He was back on his knees, between her legs. Each swipe of his tongue made her gasp. Her clit was so swollen and sensitized that the slightest pressure did wondrous things to her. Her body screamed, contracting and protesting, demanding she allow these men to fuck her, claim her, do anything they wanted as long as it was dirty and sexual. Her libido had taken over power. “She likes having her pussy sucked, then,” said Wade. “That she does. Help me out, will you?” Why weren’t they fighting? If they each claimed to love her, why were they allowing another man, a virtual stranger, to share her body? Had they come to an agreement? Was this just about sex? Jackson moved aside as Wade easily swept her weight up into his strong arms. She could feel all his hard muscles supporting her as he carried her to the sofa. He made her feel young, adored, not a worry in the world because he’d make everything better. He sat on the sofa, bringing her down onto his lap. Wade kissed the side of her neck, both hands fondling her breasts. “Perfect,” said Jackson. “Open her up for me. I’ll make her so wet she’ll be drowning in her own honey when I’m through.” Wade didn’t hesitate to spread her thighs up and apart, his hands behind her knees. He watched over her shoulder as Jackson knelt in front of her and went to work licking and suckling. It felt a hundred times naughtier with the lights on and being able to watch everything he did. But she remembered that day in his room when he’d brought

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her to orgasm. That promise of release was only a breath away now, and her body knew it. “You like that, Wendy?” asked Wade. She nodded, feeling strange answering him when he referred to the other man. But it was titillating. The exhibition, the mutual sharing, the erotic nature of their acts—it all compounded to make every cell a live wire. Her stomach fluttered and heat broke out all over her body like a fever that wouldn’t stop until it consumed her whole. She felt flush, her clit practically vibrating. Any second, any second… “Jackson… No more. I can’t take it,” she panted. The energy had grown to such high levels that it was too intense. As much as she enjoyed his mouth on her cunt, it was driving her mad. She’d spiral so close, but then a slight move would steal the buildup. Wade spoke to Jackson, who appeared to thoroughly enjoy his time between her legs. “She’s had enough playing. Give it to her hard until she comes.” Wade tilted her face with his stubbled chin until their mouths met. He kissed her long and hard until Jackson tugged her clit the final time it needed to erupt. She came so hard and fast that Wade her to grab both thighs to keep her from inadvertently kicking Jackson in the head. She tossed her head back. “Oh God!” It was so good, wave after wave of pure bliss cascading through her system like a drug infused into her veins. Jackson came up for air, a naughty smirk on his face. “She’s ready.”

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Chapter Twelve “Where’s your bedroom?” asked Wade. It had taken all his resolve to sit and watch and do nothing. He wanted a taste of Wendy’s pussy, to bury his face in soft folds and eat her until she came again and again. Her arousal perfumed the air, and her mewling sounds made his cock stiffer than a tree trunk. He was sure he had a perpetual hard-on ever since Wendy came down the stairs of his house in just a housecoat. Or had it been since he first saw her delicate beauty at the fall fair so many years ago? Her body became rigid. She shook her head, her arms around his neck and legs across his lap. “I…I can’t.” If she called it quits, he’d have blue balls all night. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her heat, show her what he was made of. Jackson already had his chance to give her sexual pleasure, and Wade craved that same intimate bond. If they were seriously going to try and have a relationship for three, they had to learn to share. “Are you scared? Is it too much to expect you to take both of us?” “No. I want to, but not here. This was our house. It wouldn’t feel right to use my bedroom.” Inwardly, he sighed in relief. She wasn’t rejecting him, just being pulled by her emotions, old loyalties she was used to keeping intact. But a widow had the right to move on. Any respectful mourning period had ended over a decade ago. Maybe the only way for her to move on would be to give up her ranch and move in with him. He had enough room. God knows he’d spent many a lonely night alone in the living room watching the flames lick the logs in the stone fireplace. He didn’t want to grow old and die alone. Wade had already

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questioned his sanity in waiting for his neighbor to admit she had feelings for him. He wouldn’t let any opportunity escape him now. It unfolded in his mind’s eye. Jackson would be like a protégé, a confidant. He could teach him the basics of running a cattle farm, and trust him to handle some of the immense responsibility around the ranch. Wendy could do as she pleased, but they’d both pleasure her, whether alone or together. It wouldn’t matter because they’d essentially be one, a family. Could that actually work? Or would sins of the flesh crop up— greed, jealousy, hatred? “We’ll go anywhere you want to go, darlin’. Just say the word.” He admired Wendy’s loyalty and honor. It made him sad to see her so conflicted. If he knew she’d find peace if he left now and never looked back, he would. But she was living in a fantasy that could never be reincarnated. She needed to know what it felt like to be unconditionally, irrevocably loved. Maybe one day she’d even trust him enough to return a bit of that love. “I don’t want to be here at all. I just want to forget everything.” “Baby, you’ll forget your own name once we start pleasuring you,” said Jackson. He was impulsive and full of energy, but unlike other drifters his age, he had a good heart. When he declared his love for Wendy, Wade could feel it as if the mere words carried a physical promise. It’s the main reason he wouldn’t demand Wendy eliminate him from their life. She deserved as much love as she could get. He contemplated where they could take her. It wasn’t freezing outside, but still cool at this hour, even though the days were hotter than a barbecue pit. Then he thought of his own house. Could their lust last long enough to move to another location? Or would the trip cool off Wendy’s inhibitions? He decided whatever was meant to be would be if he just did what he instinctually thought was best. “We can go to my ranch. You said you liked it there.” “I do like it.”

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“Good. I’ll make us a nice fire and we can open a bottle of wine. I have a friend in Niagara who keeps my cellar well stocked in exchange for cowboy steaks year round.” His biggest concern was knowing he wouldn’t want to give her up once the night was through. He’d want to keep her, have her feminine presence fill his darkly masculine world day and night for the rest of his life. Wade knew Wendy had pride in her ranch, and boasted it had stayed in the family for three generations. But it was still just dirt and space. What mattered were the people in her life, those that cared about her. Wendy’s children were grown and leaving, no interest in farming. She had nothing to lose in moving to the Laweson Ranch, making it her full-time home. She bit her lip, contemplating his offer for a night of double pleasure. “I’ll need a ride,” she finally said. **** Wendy wrapped herself in a patchwork throw, and then gathered up her things. She was actually agreeing to go through with this. After avoiding all men for years, she would give herself to two at once. It was a journey she had to take. Opening herself up to intimacy, new possibilities, had always been a challenge. Her heart knew that Wade and Jackson were the men for her, she just needed to convince her stubborn logic to agree with her heart. The shroud of night hid their illicit escape to the Laweson Ranch. She swore if anyone caught her pulling up to the neighboring property, they’d know what she was up to. She sat between both men, sandwiched on the bench seat. They smelled delicious, and both men were visually tempting, built for hard labor. The fact she knew firsthand how skilled they were in pleasuring her body made her anticipation soar. Who would take her first? What new delights would they expose her to? Wendy had little experience in anything kinky. A

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new side to her had been awakened, one that wanted to explore her sexuality, to feel wanton and unbridled. “Come on, let me carry you,” said Jackson after slipping out of the truck. The outside spotlights were on around Wade’s property, but shadows still dominated. She allowed him to transport her to the house, feeling slight in his strong arms. Wade unlocked the door and held it open for them. Only a distant table lamp was on, giving the open concept room a subtle glow, warm and inviting. It created an intimacy that prepared her to continue where they’d left off with no delay. “Let’s bring her upstairs,” said Wade. “I want her comfortable.” Right now she’d be content with the sofa, the counter, even the floor. She was so ready to feel a length of hard cock work her pussy that she could barely think straight. In such a short time she’d transformed from a straitlaced, middle-aged mother of four to a sex-hungry woman with little inhibitions. These men preformed some sort of magic on her that she was incapable of resisting. They were her saviors, each proving they’d do anything for her. Jackson didn’t tire after carrying her up the flight of stairs. When she looked at his face, he had a barely disguised smile on his face. After catching her looking, he kissed her forehead. “Nice room,” said Jackson as they entered what must be Wade’s bedroom. Everything was in navy blues and earthy-brown tones. A masculine retreat complete with a king-size bed. Jackson tossed her down, and she sprung up and down for a few seconds. “Careful with her, now.” Wade scowled at her younger lover after flicking on a table lamp. She observed them, each stripping off their outer garments. Jackson wore fitted black boxer briefs which molded to his prominent erection. Her mouth salivated. He was rock solid with sharply defined muscles. An erotic trail of brown hair travelled down the center of his six-pack abs, disappearing into his boxers. She watched as he ran his

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palm over that massive bulge, the one that would soon be inside her body, filling her, quenching her need. Wade had a slight sprinkling of masculine hair at the centre of his chest, and thick, broad shoulders. He had hard-earned muscles, golden and toned from working under the sun. Whenever she’d seen him he always dressed respectably with a buttoned-up shirt tucked into his jeans. She imagined he’d have a washboard stomach beneath, but now she knew it to be true. His gray boxers did little to camouflage his cock, pressed up toward his belly button. She wanted him, wanted them both. They eyed her on the bed. She was leaning back on her elbows, the throw still haphazardly wrapped around her torso. Wendy forgot all about herself, too busy soaking up the sight in front of her. “She’s licking her lips,” said Jackson. He braced one knee on the side of the mattress and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “What are you looking at, darlin’?” Was her staring that obvious? She wanted his boxers off so she could see his erection bobbing, maybe even dare to run her tongue down the length of it. He must have seen the desire in her eyes. “Have you ever sucked a man’s cock before, Wendy?” He was over ten years her junior, so she felt embarrassed being so much more inexperienced than him. She shook her head. Wade chuckled. She whipped her head around. “What?” “You’re as pure as the rain, baby doll. You look like an angel on my bed.” By the time she turned back around, Jackson’s boxers were off and his cock dangerously close to her mouth. He held the thick root, eying her movements like a hawk. Should she leave her caution at the door and take what she wanted? She leaned over and tentatively licked the spongy head. It was silky and firm against her tongue. Wendy didn’t want the men to think of her as virginal. She was a forty-four-year-old woman and wanted to prove that she could add some spice to their lives.

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Jackson exhaled in a growl and closed his eyes. “You’re perfect, Wendy. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” “She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” said Wade. “You have to tell her.” “Right.” Jackson’s hand held the side of her head. “Take all the cock in your mouth. Let me feel you suck me.” Wendy took as much as she could, but far from all. He had a huge, thick cock, and even the few inches she latched on to were making her gag. Jackson was so giving with his tongue, and she wanted to give something back. When he’d make a sound of approval, she learned, adjusting the pressure and movement of her tongue to satisfy him. After a few minutes she got the hang of it, becoming lost to the warm cock in her mouth. She twisted around, getting on her hands and knees to better service him. “Pump it with your fist, too,” he said, his words strangled. Both his hands held her head now, and she gripped the base of his cock as she sucked him. She hadn’t even realized her blanket had slipped away, leaving her nude and on display. Her back arched low, her ass in the air. The bed dipped as Wade mounted her from behind. He gripped both her hips, the length of his erection pressing against her ass. She didn’t stop sucking Jackson’s cock, but added more vigor. The fear and excitement of the unknown spiralled inside her, making her pussy spasm to the beat of her heart. She needed to be touched, to be satisfied in any way. His hand smoothed down her backbone and then caressed the globes of her ass. When a finger lightly passed over her nether hole, a burst of sensation caught her off guard. She pushed away from Jackson and turned her head. “You ever been touched here before?” he asked, running his finger back over the forbidden hole. “No.”

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“Good Lord, you’re right, Wade. She’s not even green broke.” Jackson sat down, his dick jutting out from between his legs, glistening from her saliva. “Even better. We can make her ours. Teach her exactly what we like.” Wade bent over, his dark head disappearing from her sight. When she felt the wet heat from his tongue against her asshole, she gasped aloud. “Hold her steady.” Jackson braced her shoulders so she wouldn’t be tempted to turn around. With his cock poised at her face, she couldn’t resist swallowing the bulbous head. “Fuck me, woman.” He growled, surprised she took the initiative. As much as she wanted to stop Wade, it felt so fucking good. It was foreign and dirty and nothing she’d ever heard of before. Why wasn’t he disgusted? Or was he as lost to his wicked desires as her? He lapped at her asshole again, licked as if she were the sweetest candy. He parted her pussy lips with both hands and then swiped his tongue up from her clit, through her liquid heat, to her ass again. Every inch of her tingled, her knees trembling. “She’s tight,” said Wade. “Her ass will squeeze the shit out of your dick, especially once I fill her pussy full of cock.” She detonated out of nowhere. No buildup, no warning, just a shock to her system as if hit with a live wire. Wendy dropped her chest to the mattress, her ass high in the air. “Oh my God,” she chanted as the most intense orgasm yet claimed her. “Look how receptive she is.” Wade twirled his finger around her ass, slowly pushing against the tight muscles. She couldn’t care about his actions when the afterglow of her release sent a satisfying calm through her blood. “There’s lube in the top drawer,” he said. Jackson moved immediately and passed Wade the lube. All the possibilities flitted in her head. She’d never experienced anything but vanilla sex, and even that had been so long ago. This was all new and

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thrilling. The men so attentive and skilled. She realized she hadn’t thought of her past once since coming to the Laweson Ranch. Maybe her house would always be cursed with memories and sorrow. Wade’s cool finger jolted her back to the present. “Relax, sweet thing. I’m using a ton of lube, but you have to relax.” He slowly fucked her with the lubed finger until knuckle deep, this other fingers titillating her moist folds. What she thought would be painful or disgusting turned out to bring her to a new height. Her ass was so filled with wondrous sensations that she was tempted to ask him to replace his finger with his cock. Jackson stood at the end of the bed watching Wade play with her ass. Having two men help one another, with her pleasure the focus, was nothing she could have imagined. The exhibition was an extreme turn-on, making her ready to perform for them. “We need to buy some toys for our woman,” said Jackson. “A butt plug would help right about now.” “She’ll be all right. I have some ginger root in the kitchen. By the time I use my cock, she’ll be more than ready. Won’t you, darlin’?”

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Chapter Thirteen Wade knew there was a sensual woman locked up behind the prim and proper exterior. She may be a devoted widow, but she was still human, still made of flesh and blood the same as him. He wondered how long she’d stifled her desires, but was glad she’d waited for him before freeing them. Not only was Wendy a good woman and mother, hard worker, and beautiful, but she was a minx in bed. Although she had a lot to learn, she was eager and responsive. His biggest fear of sharing Wendy wasn’t losing her undivided attention. He was too confident a man for that immaturity. His selfesteem wasn’t measured by a woman’s approval. As long as her love was unconditional and devoted to their threesome, he’d be a happy man. Wade’s worry rested in a man he knew so little about. To make a relationship work he knew he’d have to share his woman, his life, and his home with the third member of the triad. His worries diminished the more he learned about Jackson. The rodeo rider already proved himself a man by winning in the ring. He showed he was a good man by trying to water Wendy’s orchard without regard for his own health, or chasing after Jason after he hurt Kylie. More than that. They were comfortable with each other, working like an experienced team in the bedroom. There were no ill feelings on his part, and the other man looked to be at ease in his company. The true test would be double-teaming her. Wade had never participated in a ménage before, but like most men, he’d fantasized about the act. Now he’d get to live it with a woman he loved. Would it work? Physically and mentally? She was tight and inexperienced.

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He escaped to the kitchen and whittled a large section of ginger root. It had been countless years since he’d introduced figging to a woman. Tonight wasn’t about discipline or control, but the ginger would help numb her ass for their planned dual invasion. It was also a wicked aphrodisiac that she’d quickly learn to relish. When he returned to the bedroom, Jackson was lying side by side with her. They were lost in a passionate kiss, their arms and legs entwined. He stopped for a moment, briefly feeling like a third wheel. “He’s back,” said Jackson, coming up for air. The other man welcoming him into the fold, vanquished any misgivings. Wade crawled onto the bed, carrying the root in one hand. “Can’t say I’ve used ginger before. How’s it work?” “Oh, it’ll sting, even burn. If she’s woman enough to take it, she’ll enjoy herself more when I finally claim her.” “Let’s get started then.” Jackson was hyped up, but he must also be made of testosterone at his age. Where Wendy could count on Wade for security and experience, Jackson had enough stamina for the both of them. Wade rolled Wendy to her stomach, and then smoothed his hands over the curve of her ass. She had a beautiful shape, one he’d admired for years. Now she was his. “Now try to relax.” He kissed her face. She was trying to peek and see what he was doing. “I’m going to stick this piece of ginger in your ass nice and slow. Don’t clamp down hard or it’ll burn like the dickens. I just want you a bit numb, maybe even a little more anxious to get started.” “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” she said. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” “Promise.” With the help of Jackson, they eased her cheeks apart, revealing that tight little rosette. “Hurry up before I come all over myself,” said Jackson, his cock ramrod hard as he sat at the opposite side of Wendy. Wade shook his head, having learned long ago how to control his needs. “You can’t rush this.” Wade slipped the pointed end of his

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ginger phallus into her ass after adding some lube. “We have to go nice and slow or she’ll be too sore to enjoy herself.” “That looks fucking sexy.” “It won’t fit,” she complained, clenching down. Wendy had been through it all, and nearly killed herself working her land. But she was tensing up from a little figging? He knew she could take it. “Darlin’, sometimes a little pain has to come before the pleasure. You should know that. We plant seeds, nurture them with blood, sweat, and tears, and then we reap the rewards. Same thing right now.” He trailed his fingers up and down the soft skin of her back to calm her. “Fine.” He pressed the rest of the ginger root inside her, only the bulbous tip protruding. Jackson was right—it was sexy as hell. “Good girl,” he said, fighting back his own need to replace the root with his cock. Jackson rolled Wendy to her back. She flinched when the root shifted inside of her. “It’s burning,” she said through gritted teeth. “How about I help with that?” Jackson parted her legs with his thigh and aimed his cock at her ripe pussy. He couldn’t even wait to prep her, but Wade could understand his desperation under the circumstances. Her eyes were glazed over, her body pliant, even with the foreign member invading her ass. She wanted this, wanted them. The younger man plunged himself into Wendy’s heat. She called out, a feral cry that filled the room. He watched as Jackson pumped his hips like a tireless machine. Each time he came down on her cunt, she’d make a strangled moan reeking of desire. She looked exquisite with her head tossed back, eyes closed, and lips parted. Wade could see her breasts jiggling with each thrust as Jackson held his weight suspended over her body, watching her as he was. He had to have a piece of her, any way he could. Wade moved in, lying beside her, holding her parted thighs and kissing the soft flesh. He reached for her breasts, caressing and teasing those pert nipples. Every touch, sound, and scent brought out the animal in him. His

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well-maintained control was slipping quickly. He wanted to join Jackson, but could Wendy even handle both of them? “Shift her to her side,” he said. “It’s time.” **** Wendy knew exactly what time it was. It was time to get doublefucked by two of the most amazing men in the world. She trusted them not to hurt her which was half the battle. Once she took both men together, it would essentially seal the deal, bond them as a threesome. The men complemented each other perfectly. They each had different qualities she yearned for in a man, so together, she had everything. It was time to move on, to accept their love, and learn how to live again. Wade slipped the ginger out of her asshole. She had wanted to complain more, but bit her tongue. The ginger oil eased in and around her ass, burning her raw. When she’d clamp down, it only increased her discomfort. By the time she was ready to give in and ask Wade to remove it, the pain morphed into something new. A twisted longing churning inside her, her hormones rising off the charts. She began to crave wicked things, her body alight with wondrous sensations from the ginger, their words, their touch. Jackson’s cock filled her pussy to the extreme. When he rolled her to her side, holding her thigh over his hip, she held her breath. Wade was about to join them, and she was filled with both excitement and trepidation. “I know he wouldn’t hurt you,” whispered Jackson. He kissed her, really kissed her. She breathed him in, giving herself over body and mind. The passion between them curbed her fears. The toy was gone, and now Wade’s smooth cockhead prodded her anus. She couldn’t be more ready than she was. “Push against me, baby doll. You’re already tight, but now you’re filled with Jackson’s cock on top of it all.”

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She tried her best to do as he asked. Everything was new and overwhelming—the sex, the emotion, the companionship. His cock stretched her ass, the ginger oil still burning as he entered her. The virginal muscles screamed out in protest as he impaled those first couple inches. She could feel him colliding with Jackson, only that thin membrane separating the two cocks. “Shit, this is heaven,” Jackson grunted. Wade’s intrusion would be squeezing him mercilessly, just as she felt ready to explode. Their bodies were hot, their smooth muscles surrounding her from every direction. She could barely breathe with her heart pounding so fast, her body throbbing and heating around two hard cocks. These weren’t just any men, they were hers. Wade was her rock, the man she should have said yes to many years ago. Jackson was the adorable drifter who walked into her life, forever changing it. They’d both opened her eyes to her dormant sexuality, and the love she was still capable of sharing. Once fully seated in her ass, they both held her, kissed her, cooed in her ear. It was pure bliss. She felt so full, so satisfied by the completeness of being joined to both men. The longer Wade stalled, allowing her to get accustomed, the more her inhibitions dissipated. She grew bolder, her body demanding to be sated. Wendy cupped the side of Jackson’s face, looking into his eyes. He’d proved his love time and time again, and now it was her turn to show him she appreciated all his efforts. She kissed him, just a kiss. He growled and she felt his cock swell inside her. “You all right?” he asked, leaning his stubbled cheek into her palm. She adored his boyish charm and rugged good looks. “More than all right. I need the two of you to stop treating me like I’m breakable.” Her pussy was practically buzzing, fluid dripping down her thigh. The dual stimulation built an erotic pressure in her womb that wouldn’t be ignored. Wade nipped her shoulder from behind. “Do you like it, Wendy? Am I hurting you?”

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“I like it. Give me more. I know you’re both holding back. I’m a woman, not a green-broke filly. I can take it.” “Feisty,” said Jackson, grinding his cock into her as his fingers dug into her hip. She clenched down, making both men shudder. The power she had over these two oversized men was thrilling. She felt so tiny being sandwiched between them, their big dicks sharing her simultaneously. They could dominate her with ease, but let her lead the party. “Maybe you’re a little too wild. Maybe you need to be tamed.” “Yes…” Wade sucked her shoulder, his tongue painting trails along the back of her neck. He began to pump his hips in a steady rhythm, easing in and out of her ass. She was tight, and he was well hung, but the friction only added to her satisfaction. Every inch of her pussy and ass, every bit of her G-spot, received attention at once. Once Jackson joined in, fucking her as all their limbs entwined and shared the minimal space, she felt the pressure build. It was no longer new or awkward, but dirty and beautiful. She savored their sounds, their strength, even the smell of their clean sweat as they pummelled her body. Her satisfaction wasn’t just her own. She loved giving them pleasure because she really did love these men. Wendy finally had real flesh-and-blood men to devote herself to, not an illusion or memory that could no longer love her back. All these years she’d been missing out on so much, but there was a plan for her life, and it meant waiting for these specific men. Her body hummed, carrying her along on a wave of unadulterated ecstasy. Her orgasm would be powerful, the anticipation almost scared her. The dual stimulation, being so full of cock, was more than she was used to. “I’m close,” she murmured, snuggled comfortably between their male bodies, both working her like machines. Their slick cocks pistoned tirelessly into her body. Each thrust made her moan. In out, in out. Their stamina surprised her. How long could they hold off for her?

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“Come, baby girl,” said Wade through gritted teeth. They became rougher, fucking harder, deeper. They must have forgotten their strength once they got lost in the sex act. Her hips ached from where they gripped her. Even her tits were being manhandled as they became more animalistic than human. Wendy loved every minute of it. She’d always worked like a man, putting in her hours of hard labor every day of the week. She knew she’d be able to handle a real man and a hard fucking, but never expected to get it—times two. “Good Lord, Wendy, come for us,” Jackson demanded as he buried his face at the side of her neck. His gruff demand and Wade’s sweet command were the final push she needed to let go. She allowed her orgasm to release, to wash through her, rather than holding it back. She screamed, calling out their names as a plea. Her peak was blinding, consuming her entirely. She couldn’t think or move or reason, just feel. “Oh God, it’s so good.” Her men were right behind her, their thick cocks releasing their seed, filling her up. She could feel their sticky release slide down her legs as they slid from her body. They didn’t pull away, only nestled into her, their adoration surpassing mere sex. Sleep pulled at her, her eyes burning. “Shh, sleep, little one,” said Wade when she tried to fight the urge to close her eyes. “We’re right here to watch over you.” She liked the sound of that. Her cowboy heroes keeping vigil, their hot, muscled bodies a virtual wall to any harm that may come her way. Wendy drifted off to sleep, excited about tomorrow for the first time she could remember.

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Chapter Fourteen Wendy was used to being the first one up every morning, but today Wade beat her. She could smell the coffee brewing as she padded down the wooden stairs to the main level of his ranch. Her body was pleasantly sated, new possibilities bringing her a renewed sense of peace in her life. She played with the ring around her finger as she neared the last stair. This was a new day, not just the mere rising of the sun, but the first day in the rest of her life. She slipped the simple gold band off her finger. Her skin beneath was pale white. It was the first time she had taken it off since being widowed. The act was like breaking her shackles, allowing herself to live again. Emotions weighed heavily in her heart as she set the ring on Wade’s mantle. “Mornin’,” he said as she entered the kitchen. Dust motes danced in the early-morning rays of light shining in through the windows. Wade wore a pair of loose plaid pajama pants which hung low on his slim hips. His chest was deliciously bare as he leaned back against the counter. Wade watched her enter, a lazy grin on his face. She only wore one of his old T-shirts, nothing more. “You’re up early.” “Phone woke me up, but I missed the call.” He stepped forward and tugged her against him. His kiss was sweet and his embrace strong. “Where’s the sleeping beauty at?” She smirked. “He’s dead to the world.” “He’s not half bad at all. I dare say you have excellent taste in men.” Wade winked at her, just as the phone rang again.

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As he sauntered over to answer the phone on the counter, she wondered when they’d all be having the talk. They’d crossed into new territory last night, and things would never be the same. She wanted verbal confirmation that both men were committed to her and accepting of each other. For the first time in decades she could envision a life beyond her lonely existence. She was excited, optimistic, and almost giddy imagining their next encounter. Wade and Jackson had unleashed her sexuality and it was running rampant. Even now, watching his back as he talked on the phone, the toned muscles shifting as he moved, she wanted to drag him back to bed. The sound of the phone hitting the counter made her jump. He turned, his face solemn. There was a hint of fear in his eyes which made her instantly tense. “What is it?” He closed the distance between them and took both her hands. “Jason and another boy are in jail.” Her mind raced. Kylie was supposed to be safely in the city with Christine. Had she come home early? Had Jason gone in search of her and hurt her? She was afraid to ask why, terrified. She swallowed hard, but still couldn’t ask. “Nobody’s hurt, okay.” Wendy nodded. “They set fire to your fields, Wendy. Firefighters are over at your place now.” “A prairie fire,” she whispered, feeling like she was in a dream. Then reality crashed down on her. “Your land’s right next to mine.” “You stay here with Jackson. He’ll take care of you while I go check things out.” She shook her head, pulling out of his grip. Wendy raced to the back door and wrenched it open. It was already stifling outside as she ran barefoot across Wade’s rear yard, a hand over her eyes to see in the distance. She couldn’t see the flames, but there was a strip glowing an eerie red. Puffs of black smoke gathered in the sky, probably from the firefighters battling the blaze.

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Her wheat was already a write-off, but her orchard was still viable. She’d lose absolutely everything. What about her house? Her barns? Her animals? Still, her fears traveled to the Laweson Ranch. Wade was innocent, having nothing to do with Kylie’s drama with Jason. If the fire spread on the wind to his ranch, he’d lose a lot more than her. She’d dealt with fire before. The best way to secure Wade’s land was to burn a fireguard between their properties. She’d seen it done many times over the years. Wade’s hand came down on her shoulder from behind. She flinched, whirling around to face him. “We’ve got to protect your land, head out along the perimeter and set a fireguard.” “The firefighters know what they’re doing, darlin’. Wake up Jackson. We’ll round up the cattle to the fields in the far east just in case.” He was so calm and collected, exactly what she needed when she felt her whole world crumbling around her. She felt frantic, unable to think straight. “Go wake Jackson,” he reminded. “Right.” She took off, half in a daze as she returned to the dim bedroom, warm from sleep, the scent of sex still in the air. Wendy bounded on the bed, shaking Jackson’s shoulders. “Baby, what’s the matter?” He rolled to his side, stretching and taking a waking breath. A frog formed in her throat. To tell him her land was on fire made it so real. Generations of her family had farmed that land. The house was her marital home, the place she struggled and raised her children on her own. So many memories, so much labor, all going up in smoke. “There’s a fire. Wade needs your help to round up the cattle.” He sat up in a rush, the blankets pooling around his waist. “Good Lord, where’s the fire now?” “My land,” she said, her voice low and guarded. “Jason set my dry wheat ablaze. Suppose it’s payback for keeping Kylie away from him.” “Fuck,” he muttered. “It’s my fault then. He’s no doubt pissed about having his nose broken.”

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“Don’t blame yourself. I would have done the same thing if you hadn’t.” Jackson slid off the bed and danced into his blue jeans. His face still looked so sleepy, but his body was a blur of action. “Are the girls still in the city?” She nodded. Wendy tugged on a pair of Wade’s long johns, rolling them at the waist. She had nothing to wear, only having come in a blanket. “Help Wade secure the cattle. His hired hands should be on their way, too.” “And you?” “I’m just going to talk to the fire department, see what’s the damage.” In fact, she had other plans. Wendy knew the firefighters’ main concern would be to control the blaze, keep it localized and snuffed out as soon as possible. With no rain, a warm wind, and acres of dry wheat, it would be a losing battle. She planned to make a fire break around her orchard and her ranch if the department hadn’t already done so. At least then she wouldn’t have to start over from scratch. Her girls wouldn’t have to return home to nothing. Before they left the bedroom, he cupped her face, looking down at her. “Everything will be all right. No fretting, okay?” “Okay.” They split ways. Wendy grabbed Wade’s truck keys and barrelled off the property before either man could think to question her further. As she neared her ranch the scent of burning wood was morbidly comforting. It wasn’t a wood stove on a cool winter’s night making the smell, but likely everything she held dear. **** Jackson found Wade saddling two horses just outside the barn. Two pickup trucks pulled up as he crossed the yard, fitting his Stetson into place. A sense of urgency was already in the air. A prairie fire was no joke.

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“Where’s Wendy?” asked Wade, pulling the girth strap tight. “She went to her place to get filled in by the fire department.” He scowled. “You shouldn’t have let her go,” he said in a matterof-fact tone. “She’s planning something foolish, no doubt.” “If it’s dangerous, the firefighters won’t let her out on the land,” he said. “Maybe. If she wants something bad enough, that woman will find a way. After we get this roundup started, we’ll go find her. I have a feeling she’ll be at her orchard with a plough.” Sirens rang in the distance. More trucks meant this wasn’t a small, localized problem. If they hadn’t come to the Laweson Ranch last night, Jackson may have heard something—a truck, footsteps, something. He should have minded his own damn business after seeing Kylie’s black eye. Jason was probably eager for revenge thanks to his actions. Guilt weighed heavily on him as he mounted the chestnut mare Wade offered him. “Time’s wasting. Let’s move out,” said Wade. He whistled as he cantered off ahead of him and three cow dogs raced out of the barn and followed. They rode side by side, not speaking. The cattle were clamoring, probably sensing something amiss. Jackson had taken odd jobs during roundups and brandings when his events dried up, so he was able to get right to work moving the animals with Wade. He periodically looked toward Wendy’s place, a thin line of orange and red growing menacingly closer every time he looked. Hours passed as he rode in a trance, his mind elsewhere. “We should head back to the house. My men can push them back another mile, but they should be safe for now.” Wade sidled up next to him, patting his horse on the neck. “Do you blame me?” Jackson asked. “You think Jason was thinking of me when he set the fire?” He valued Wade’s opinion. From what he knew of the man, he was honest and forthright.

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“It makes no difference. I already told you I’d have done the same thing, maybe worse. We can’t predict the mind of a madman. What I’m worried about is our woman. That farm is all she has in the world, and it’d kill her to lose it.” “What if the orchard fell victim?” “Her and that blasted orchard. What I want is to bring her here. Both of you. It ain’t fun living alone on this ranch. I’ve wooed that woman for more years than I can count, and I won’t lose her now.” “Let’s find her.” Jackson dug his heels into the side of his horse, chasing the trail of smoke in the sky. As they approached the danger zone, he could feel the heat on his face. The horse reared slightly when he pulled her to a stop. Wade settled next to him. “Will you look at that,” said Wade. The damage was devastating, but Wendy had managed to create a firebreak around her apple orchard. He wondered if the heat alone would kill the young trees. “She ain’t here.” “We’ll check the house then.” They tore around the perimeter of the fire zone, galloping at full speed, but as they neared the old ranch house, there were only charred remains and the outline of a stone fireplace from within the wreckage. Four fire trucks were on the property. Other towns must have sent resources to help put out the fire. They slowed to a trot before they reached the place where Wendy’s home once sat. Everything was gone, not just damaged, but nonexistent. Jason must have started a fire in the house, too. Thank God they’d spent the night at Wade’s place. “Dear Lord, the fire took everything,” said Wade. He plucked off his hat as if saying a prayer to the dead. “Not a thing left.” “I have to find her.” Jackson split up and rode to the small crowd of workers and neighbors in search of his woman. She’d be distraught, no doubt. He wanted to be her shoulder to cry on, her strength during such a tragedy.

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He dismounted near a fire chief. “Where’s Wendy McCay? She all right?” His pulse was racing. He didn’t expect or want to hear bad news, but there was always that little possibility. “Gone,” said the older man. “Said she’s going to see her husband.” “Her husband’s fucking dead, for like twenty years. Why didn’t someone think to take care of her?” His blood began to boil over. It was Wade’s hand to his shoulder that kept him from getting into the fire chief’s face. “Let’s go, Jackson. There’s nothing left here for us.” He walked backward, watching the fire and the plane dropping a hatch of water over the ravaged wheat fields. That woman worked so damn hard from sunup until sunset. He could still picture the inside of the house, modest but filled with comfort and memories. Tears pricked at his eyes just imagining the damage through Wendy’s sight. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did. He had to find her, hold her, promise her the moon if he had to. “I know where we can find her,” said Wade.

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Chapter Fifteen Wendy wouldn’t cry. She refused to break down when it wouldn’t do anyone any good. There was nothing left to do, nothing prayers could salvage. Her home, her legacy, the only thing that made her feel worthy was gone. The fire claimed everything she worked for. She sat on the only green grass in the county, staring at the gray stone in front of her. It was the first time she dared to visit the cemetery. It made her husband’s death too real, too permanent to see him represented by a stone marker. But it was time to say good-bye, to let go of the past and everything she thought defined her. Her children were adults, independent and moving on in life. They couldn’t make her prouder, and she knew it was her hard work and sacrifices that helped mold them into the people they were. That was an accomplishment. Once she got into contact with her daughters, she’d assure them she was fine. Kylie could live on campus and Christine would likely move in with her oldest daughter until she finished school. As for her she wasn’t so sure what the future held. Why did you leave me? It was so easy to imagine what could have been, but where had those fantasies ever gotten her? Death was final. Her husband wasn’t traveling the circuit. He wouldn’t show up at her door one day and apologize for his lengthy absence. Wendy had already been through the gamut of emotions—grief, depression, anger, desperation, fear, and finally numbness. It wasn’t until the past month that she knew what if felt like to truly be happy, to look to the future with optimism. She’d literally just lost the shirt off her back. There was no home to return to, no bed to climb into at night. None of that mattered though. She’d come here, to

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the one place she’d avoided, to say her final good-bye. The fire may have been arson, but everything happened for a reason in her opinion. It forced her to move on, to start fresh. Sometimes fire destroyed, but it could also bring new life. She saw herself as a young sapling emerging from the ash after a forest fire. There were only two things missing. And by the sounds of the footsteps, they’d found her. “How’d you know where to find me?” she asked. “You told the chief you were visiting your husband. We all know that ain’t true.” She didn’t turn around to see Wade, but his deep voice scared away her fears. “It’s true. This is his grave. I came to say good-bye. It’s been a long time coming.” Jackson and Wade squatted down on either side of her. “Did you see the house?” she asked. Wade nodded. “It’s gone, darlin’. All of it.” She took a deep breath. “Amazing how fast the fire took everything. In a matter of hours it claimed decades of memories.” “We’ll make new ones,” said Jackson. Wendy slowly got to her feet and brushed the dirt and grass off the oversized long johns she wore. When she noticed what she was wearing, she laughed out loud, the sound a mix of humor and hysterics. Between her nerves, dramatic events of the day, and unconditional love of her men—she felt out of sorts. What she needed was a long, long nap. It would be nice to wake up and have all the wrinkles in her life ironed out, but she’d settle for a few small pleasures. She leaned against Wade and closed her eyes. “Where’s home?” she whispered. “Brick, mortar, and wood can be torn down and destroyed. Your home is wherever I am, baby doll. If I had to sleep out under the stars, it would still be home if you were beside me.” He held her hand over his heart as he spoke.

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Her emotional barriers were disintegrating. She turned and looked at the gravestone one last time, knowing she had to let go for good. Then she gazed into Jackson’s blue eyes. He was a lot like her now. No set address, no roots. Together, the three of them could really make something beautiful. She had nothing to her name now, but these hot, sexy cowboys were still here, still wanted her in their lives. “Thank you,” she said. “For what?” asked Wade. “For not leaving. For loving me.” Both men held her, creating a cocoon of warmth and protection around her. For the first time she was going to allow herself to be weak, to let her men be strong for her. She cried. All the pain, despair, and helplessness she’d felt over the years came out in a great rush of emotional release. **** Two weeks later and life was starting to show some semblance of normalcy around the Laweson Ranch. The cattle branding was well underway, with Jackson helping to lead Wade’s crew of seasonal workers. “You seen Wendy today?” Wade called out across the holding paddock. “She was in the hayloft earlier. Haven’t seen her in over an hour.” Some days Wade worried about his woman. He knew she needed time to become accustomed to living under a new roof and all the related changes. But at least he had her. It had been torturous wanting something so desperately, for so long, and not being able to attain it. Having Wendy underfoot day in day out was an actual dream come true. From the first time in the morning when her lips were swollen and hair in disarray, to the evenings watching the stars and reflecting on childhood dreams—he savored every moment being with her.

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They’d been branding all day and the sun was now lowering on the distant horizon. The problems Wendy had on her farm were finally paying a visit to the Laweson Ranch. Even with all the expensive irrigation equipment in the world, it meant nothing when the land went this long without rain. A deep rolling thunder rumbled in the heavens. Wade looked up, holding on to the split rail for balance. “Will you look at that, Jackson…” Dark clouds were rolling in quickly from the north like a blanket slowly being pulled over their town from above. “It couldn’t be,” said Jackson. “I think I forgot what a cloud looked like.” As the darkness spread, Wade felt the first sprinkling of drops on his forearm, a warning for what was to come. Another menacing boom of thunder echoed above. “I’m checking the barn for Wendy.” The smell of rain hung heavy in the air now, the cattle in a ruckus. Any minute and it would come down strong, reclaiming the land, ending the severe drought that cost farmers plenty of heartache and financial hardship. By the time they reached the large barn, the drops of water were big, making patterns on the parched drive. Wade climbed the narrow wooden staircase to the second level where he kept extra feed and tack. Sure enough, he found his sweet girl. She was in the hammock, gently swinging, looking out the open bay doors of the loft. “We’re gonna finally get some rain, love. Looks like some prayers are finally being answered.” She was so quiet, he thought she hadn’t heard him or chose to ignore him. Then she spoke. “I prayed for a lot of things over the years. Even learned to distance myself from God because I thought he ignored me. Now I understand. He answered my prayers the way they needed to be answered. It wasn’t necessarily the easiest way, but it left the biggest impression on me.” She used her dangling foot to give the hammock a little push, continuing her rhythmic swinging. “I love

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falling asleep to rain storms. They’re so violent, so full of passion.” She gazed hypnotically at the clouds rolling in. Wade knelt close to her head. “You’re absolutely right, baby girl. God gave me the patience to wait nearly two decades before you gave me the time of day.” She mock scowled at him. “You were impossible and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” “It worked, didn’t it?” He stopped the rocking of the hammock, mesmerized by Wendy’s strength and beauty. She’d been quiet and reflective since the fire, but she had started showing signs of life recently. When she scoffed, a smile tilting her lips, he knew she’d be back to her old self soon. Time had the power to heal all wounds. Jackson stood by her side, his legs blocking her from moving. “I missed your smile, Wendy. I know you have the right to pout as long as you want, but don’t forget about me, darlin’.” “That’s why I told you not to mess with a younger man. They’re controlled by their cocks. I’m telling you, Jackson has been nagging me daily, wondering when you’ll be well enough for lovin’.” “He’s just a young stud in need of release. It’s part of why I love him. Just like I love you for being able to keep control.” Wade tilted her head to face him. “You said the ‘l’ word.” She never mentioned love. Wendy cared about them, worried about them, but never loved them. They declared their feelings frequently, but their words were never returned in full. He accepted that, but didn’t crave her full devotion any less. **** Had she really gone all this time without declaring her love for Wade and Jackson? Were words even necessary, were they enough to reflect the adoration she felt for each man? Love was just a word, but what she felt for them was way more. She owed her life to them.

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They’d given her the second chance she never expected to receive, protected her, coddled her, made her feel young and beautiful. “Maybe I’m better at showing how I feel…” She tried to make her voice sound seductive, but it just came out as needy. Two weeks without sex was just as difficult for her as it was for the men, maybe more so. She had to look at both of them wandering around the house half naked, secretly watch Jackson jerking off at night when he thought she was sleeping, and practically feel the sexual tension spark and sizzle in the house during the evenings. It was time to connect again, on every level. “That sounds good to me.” Jackson took the bait, his eyes already at half mast. Wendy loved having a young, muscled cowboy ready to fuck twenty-four-seven. She was in the prime of her sexual life and could match his libido most days. Wade was a tease, so controlled that he could hold off his own pleasure to torment her with a skilled finger, tongue, or cock. “You know I’d never say no to you, darlin’.” She knew Wade was aching for her to verbally commit to him. They lived together, worked side by side, and devoted all their energy to their new ménage relationship. But Wade wanted what she hadn’t been able to give…until now. She was ready, had been ready for some time. Jackson tugged off his shirt and then knelt down on the opposite side of the hammock. He parted her legs, his fingers grazing her sensitive inner thighs. She was only wearing a loose pair of short cotton shorts and a tank top. Even with the summer soon coming to a close, the heat during the day was scorching. Now that the sun was setting, a comfortable breeze blew across them, cooling off the land. Soon the long-awaited rain would quench the sun-baked earth. The symphony of insects droned from the fields around them, her personal lullaby, except now she wanted to do anything but sleep. A crackle of thunder was punctuated with a streak of lightning across the darkened sky. The weather created a dreamy, paranormal atmosphere perfect for making love.

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When Jackson’s fingertips slipped under the loose opening of her shorts, gently grazing her pussy lips, she whimpered. She was so ready to be fucked. For two weeks she held back, believing she should be mourning the loss of her home, not lusting over her cowboys like she had been. “She’s wanting, Wade. Listen to her.” Wade covered her earlobe with his thick, soft lips. He was merciless, knowing exactly what turned her on and drove her mad with desire. His hot breath in her ear combined with his skilled tongue and suckling were as erotic as sex. They worked together, touching, tasting, creating dual sensations so she couldn’t even pinpoint where the pleasure originated. “She’s been depriving herself when there’s no need. Not when she has two cowboys at her beck and call.” Wade peppered her face with kisses, a loving shower of affection. It was time. No more living in the past. She’d said good-bye to her husband, and her home had burned to ash. Her children were grown, starting lives of their own. It was her time to shine, to live…to love. “Tell me what you want, Wendy. Anything at all.” Jackson impaled her pussy with two fingers, making her gasp. She had gone too long without sex. “Want me to suck your pretty little cunt?” She shook her head. Wendy felt like giving today. “I want your cock. I want to taste it.” Jackson began unbuckling his belt before she finished speaking. She could see the hard outline of his cock straining behind the denim and it excited her. Wendy still couldn’t understand why a young buck like Jackson wanted to settle down with an older woman like her, but she’d take it. She’d also make sure he didn’t regret it. “You’re not planning on biting me now are you?” He held out his erection, and she sat up in the wobbly hammock, eager to feel him between her tongue and palate. His cock was impressive, as was the rest of his fine body. She couldn’t look away, even felt her mouth salivate as she waited.

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“I want to make you feel good. You’ve both been patient with me and should be rewarded.” She looked Jackson in the eyes, holding his stare. “You’ve been a very good boy.” A big, brawny boy with a thick cock. And all hers. She loved his naughty streak, the fire dancing in his eyes. “Then I’ve been a very good boy, darlin’. Don’t torture me any longer.” She kissed Wade, slipping her tongue into his mouth as he supported her in an upright position. As she turned to take Jackson’s cock, he first slipped off her shirt and unfastened her sports bra. She no longer cared if her men saw her naked. They’d built her up so high, and there was no denying their desire for her. Wendy accepted Jackson’s cock when he fed it to her. He exhaled in a near growl when she sucked on the bulbous head, twirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. Wade’s arms snaked around her, fondling her breasts, teasing the bundles of nerves. His hot breath at the back of her neck was erotic as hell when she had another man’s cock in her mouth. The sharing, the respect, the love—it was beyond satisfying. She never wanted it to end, and it never would. She’d made up her mind, committed mind, body, and soul to her new life with Wade and Jackson. Wendy was a loyal woman, and now that she’d opened her heart, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them…or to them. “I need to fuck you, Wendy. Will you let me?” How could she say no to her rough-riding cowboy? She slipped away from his cock and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He lifted her around to face Wade and then straddled the hammock, bringing it into a narrow strip between his legs. She let her own legs dangle on either side of her. “Your shorts, baby.” Wade lifted her legs up in the air and pulled off the material. When she came back down she let her legs settle over Wade’s thighs, his cock nudging her stomach. “I’ll sit out this time,” said Jackson.

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There was no resentment in his voice. He even leaned down to kiss her. “Why?” she asked. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, sweet thing. You’ve had a lot of firsts lately.” “Don’t worry, I can wait.” “But I need you, Jackson. I love feeling so full I could burst.” His eyes took on a glint of something forbidden, a side to him rarely allowed out to play. He wouldn’t refuse her now. Wade lifted her up under her arms, his biceps bulging as he supported her weight. “Go on…Sit on my cock.” She impaled herself over his thick erection as he slowly lowered her back down. It stretched her, filled her with warmth. Wendy sighed contentedly. “That feels good. You’re both so big.” She wrapped her arms around Wade’s neck, and he eagerly crashed his mouth to hers, helping her rise and fall over his cock. Today she’d come hard and fast. Already heat travelled up her legs from her toes, and he’d only been inside her for a couple minutes. “If you’re gonna join, I wouldn’t wait,” said Wade. She knew he loved the extra snugness a second cock could add to his experience. Wendy couldn’t disagree. There were a multitude of erotic nerves in her ass she never knew existed. She loved when they’d caress her ass or finger her during sex, but being double-fucked took the prize. Jackson used the lube they kept in the hayloft, the soft spurting sound making her pussy moisten. The barn was her favorite place to get kinky. The hammock jostled as he mounted her from behind. His weight settled in against her, skin to skin. This was what she needed, both halves to the whole. Their arms encircled her, touching, holding. Jackson’s rough stubble grazed her skin as he leaned his face on her shoulder to position his cock against her ass. The lube was cool against her puckered hole, but she knew his hard length would heat her up in a hurry.

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She sank onto the second dick. So full. Her eyes lolled back in her head. This position was exhilarating, allowing the men full penetration. The open loft doors gave her a full view of the ranch. If one of Wade’s employees happened to walk by below, they’d get an explicit show. It excited her, made her clit pulse stronger. They pounded into her, spurred by her enthusiasm. She felt like she was riding a stallion the way they all straddled the hammock, her legs hanging on either side. But instead of a horse and saddle, she had two cowboys with hard cocks to ride. Wade groaned, nipping her jaw, pressing into her as if he couldn’t get close enough. Jackson reached around and tugged at her clit, which was exactly what she needed to take her over the edge. She cried out when her body claimed the men, milking their erections until they joined her in release. They sagged against her when they were through, cutting off her air. “You’re not little boys. Give me some space before you steal all my air.” She squirmed between all those slick, golden muscles, their semiflaccid cocks still embedded in her body. It was heaven, her own personal heaven on earth. All the lonely years, and backbreaking labor were not in vain. Everything brought her to this day, helped her appreciate all her blessings, so she couldn’t complain. Maybe prayers did come true, just not on the timeline she anticipated. “We’ve already started your new orchard, but you best get your cute little ass out there to help us. No more moping around when there’s work to be done,” said Wade. He’d made her dreams come true. Rather than her life going downhill after forty-four, it had never been better, more vibrant. Wade had set aside acres for her to start her own apple orchard on his property, their property. At home she’d never felt settled, always running from ghosts and pushing away everything that made her a woman. “Yes, sir,” she said, leaning her head back on Jackson's shoulder, craving a kiss. Wade shifted forward to kiss her cheek. The moment

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was quiet, perfect, making her heart swell with emotion. The breeze blowing across the prairies wafted into the loft, soothing her heated flesh. “Have I ever told you both that I love you?” She knew she hadn’t outright said the words, but they were always there waiting to be spoken. Jackson whispered in her ear, “Those are beautiful words, darlin’.” Wade interlocked his fingers with hers and gave a little squeeze. Wendy took a cleansing breath, gathering what little strength she had left. It was time to start the newest chapter of her life. “Let’s go plant us some apple trees.”

THE END WWW.STACEYESPINO.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Stacey Espino resides in beautiful Ontario, Canada where she is busy raising her five school-aged children. She loves being a Canadian, but could do without the brutal winters. She enjoys writing erotic romance that will have you squirming in your seat. From hardcore cowboys to alpha shifters, she has you covered! Stacey also writes alternative m/m romance as Winona Wilder.

Also by Stacey Espino Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 1: Hardcore Cowboys Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 2: Corralling the City Girl Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 3: Hogtying the Cowgirl Ménage Amour: Ride ‘em Hard 4: Her Cowboy Triple Team

For all other titles, please visit www.bookstrand.com/stacey-espino For titles by Stacey Espino writing as Winona Wilder, please visit www.bookstrand.com/winona-wilder

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