A taste of my writing...

                                                                CHAPTER ONE

    What else could go wrong?

    Cade Tyler stared out the kitchen window at the billowy black clouds rolling in on what was supposed to be a clear, sunny day in Deep Creek, Colorado. 

    The wind kicked up outside and thunder rumbled overhead, rattling the dusty windowpanes.  The unexpected storm reminded Cade that life was just as unpredictable as the bulls he used to ride.

     “I should be out working on that fence,” he grumbled as he returned to the table and finished spreading mayo over the slices of bread Burk had tossed onto his plate.

     “Sure and get yourself struck by lightning in the process,” Burk Lowry, his best friend and ranch foreman, replied as he stabbed at another slice of tomato and dropped it onto the towering stack of lunch meat on the plate in front of him.

     It wasn’t even raining yet.  But Burk was right.  By the time he’d ride out to the northern pasture where the fence was down, chances are the storm would have already let loose. 

     Cade shook his head in amazement as the stack of lunchmeat on Burk’s plate grew.  Talk about a bottomless pit for a stomach.  “Hey, Lowry, how about a little bread to go with that?”

     “Got it covered,” his friend replied with a grin.  “There’s a slice underneath and now all it needs is a topper.”  He dug into the near empty bread bag and grabbed one of the two remaining heels.  Placing it atop the mountain of meats and cheeses, he brought the towering mass to his mouth.

     It was a wonder Burk’s jaw didn’t come unhinged when he bit into the thing.  Amazingly enough it hadn’t and his friend was already going in for another bite.  Cade supposed there was a time when he used to eat like that, too, digging into his meals like a starving man after a hard day’s work.  But that was then.

     He glanced toward the kitchen window, remembering how much his wife used to love looking out over the green pastures and rolling hills that made up the Flying T.  And how excited she’d been the day she replaced his plain old bachelor style curtains with the frilly lemon yellow ones that hung there now.  While it was hard to look at them everyday without thinking about what he’d lost, Cade didn’t have the heart to take them down.

     “Maybe the storm will blow over and I can still get that fence repaired,” he muttered with a deepening frown.

     “Will you stop worrying about that damn fence,” Burk grumbled.  “It’ll get done.”  He took another bite of his sandwich.  “You need to eat.”

     He wasn’t hungry, so why waste the food?  “What are you?” Cade snapped in irritation.  “My mother?”

     Burk returned his sandwich to his plate and threw up his hands in frustration.  “Fine.  Don’t eat.  You wanna end up looking like you just left a refugee camp, that’s your problem.”

     Cade arched a brow.  “Refugee camp?”  

     “You know damn well you can’t put in the hours you do around this ranch and not eat.”

     “I eat.”

     “Not enough.  Look, I know you’ve been through hell and back again, but life’s not going anywhere.  Like it or not, we’re stuck with it.”

     Lord, he hated anything that stirred up his emotions the way Burk was doing right now.  It had been one hell of a long couple of years.  But one thing was for certain, he wouldn’t trade his best friend for the world. 

     The two of them met during a rodeo in Cheyenne seven years before when Cade was twenty-five and making a name for himself on the rodeo circuit.  That day he drew the meanest bull in the lot and ended up getting his hand hung up on the rope.  It wasn’t pretty.  Luckily for him, Burk, a professional rodeo clown by trade, was working that day.  Burk not only helped free his hand from the taut, biting rope, he’d also kept the angry, 1800 pound bull distracted while Cade was helped out of the arena.  Unfortunately, that distraction included Burk’s getting tossed to the ground and stomped on.  Later that night, they met up at the local bar for a beer, both of them sporting slings on their injured arms.  They’d been friends ever since.   

     Burk tapped the toe of his boot on the linoleum floor while he stuffed his face with the three-inch thick turkey, ham and cheese sandwich.  The impatient tapping grew louder.

     Cade muttered a curse.  His friend was like a dog with a bone.  Snatching up his sandwich, Cade bit into it.  “There,” he muttered between chews, “I’m eating.  You happy now?”

     “Nope.”

     Best friend or not, Burk Lowry could sure irritate the hell out of him sometimes.  “You got something that needs saying?”

     “Now that you mention it, I do.”  Burk crossed his arms and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the edge of the table.  “When are you gonna start living again?”

     Cade reached for his coffee.  “Don’t start.”  He wasn’t in the mood.   

     “Hell, Cade, it’s been almost two years since the accident.  She’s not coming back.”

     Cade slammed his cup down on the table, sending coffee sloshing out over its side.  His jaw tightened.  “Don’t you think I know that?”

     “Sometimes I wonder.” 

     A knocked sounded at the door, bringing their conversation to a halt.  Black Jack, Burk’s huge, scruffy, black and white mutt, barked and jumped up from his place under the kitchen table.

     “Company,” Cade muttered as the dog skittered across the faded linoleum and down the hall toward the front door. 

     “I’ll get it.”  Burk crammed the last of his sandwich into his mouth as he pushed away from the table and got to his feet.

     “Probably another bill collector,” Cade grumbled as he started to rise.

     “Don’t move,” his friend said.  “I’ll see who it is.”  He pointed to the sandwich Cade had just taken a bite from.  “I’ll take care of it.  You just keep working on that sandwich.” 

     Cade watched Burk walk away, disappearing down the hall.  Sitting back in his chair, he shoved his plate away and waited to see who wanted his money now.

                                                                                              *    *    *

     Despite the eight-hour drive from Denver to tiny town of Deep Creek, Lacy Dalton was ready to get started on her interview with ex-rodeo star Cade Tyler.  Admittedly, she’d been a little surprised when she’d pulled up to his ranch house and saw the condition of it and several of the outer buildings.  They were all in dire need of a fresh coat of paint.  Several of the windowpanes in the barn were cracked and needed to be replaced.  Even the flower garden along the front porch of the main house needed work.  The weeds had long since overtaken it. 

     If she hadn’t seen the Flying T sign hanging over the entrance to the ranch, she would have sworn she’d driven up to the wrong house.  Cade Tyler had made good money riding the circuit.  So why then was his ranch in such disrepair?

     Lightning flashed in the distance.  A few seconds later thunder rumbled across the sky.  At least, she’d gotten there before the rain hit.  She hurried to knock as the wind picked up around her.

A huge, hairy, snarling dog appeared suddenly, bouncing off the screen door.  Heart racing, Lacy jumped back, thankful the old door had held firm.  The dog looked at her through the screen like she was a huge platter of London broil. 

     She glanced back at her car, contemplating just how long it would take her in high heels to get from the front porch of Cade Tyler’s house to the dust-laden convertible if ‘Killer’ the watchdog managed to get out.

     Just then, the screen door creaked open behind her.  Lacy jumped with a shriek of terror and spun around, prepared to be taken down by what had looked to be about sixty pounds of angry mutt.

     But the attack never came. 

     In fact, the snarling dog now sat quietly beside a tall, lanky man with a lopsided grin.  The man eyed her up and down and then gave a low whistle.  “Well, well, it ain't every day we get a pretty visitor out here.”

     It took Lacy a moment to collect herself after coming that close to becoming a five-foot-three-inch dog biscuit.  “Um, yes...hello.  I’m looking for Mr. Tyler.”

     At the sound of her voice, the dog jumped up and started barking again.  But for the first time since it had charged the door, she noticed its tail was wagging.  A good thing she supposed.  Dogs didn’t normally kill if their tails were wagging.  At least, she didn’t think so.  But then she had never owned a dog before. 

     “No more,” the man on the other side of the screen door said firmly and the dog ceased its barking, settling down once again next to the man’s booted feet.  He glanced back over his shoulder and then opened the door.  "You’re that reporter lady, right?” he said, his voice low.

     She pushed her windblown hair from her face and nodded.  It had only taken one look to know this man wasn’t the subject of her story.  She’d done some research on Cade Tyler before starting the long drive across Colorado.  The ex-rodeo star had coal black hair and blue eyes.  The man standing in front of her had dusty blonde hair and brown eyes.  He was also tall and lanky where the pictures of Cade Tyler had shown him to be more powerfully built.

     “Yes, I am.”  She held out her hand.  “Lacy Dalton, Bustin’ Loose Magazine.” 

     “Sorry, ma’am, but this ain't a good time.  Cade’s not in a real good mood today.”

     “This isn’t a good time?”  What was he talking about?  This was the time Cade Tyler had agreed to over the phone when she’d finally convinced him to let her do the interview.  And she needed this story.  If she landed it, Mac Cooper, head editor of Bustin’ Loose Magazine promised her a job writing the monthly column – Rodeo Romance.  While she didn’t know much about the rodeo, she’d had experience writing Kiss & Tell articles for other magazines.  The only difference was that Rodeo Romance would only focus on rodeo cowboys and the women they share their bed with.  Not exactly her dream job, but it would mean a steady paycheck.  Something she needed to help pay for her grandmother’s medical care. 

     “No,” he replied matter-of-factly.  “It ain’t.”

     “What do you mean this isn’t a good time?" she asked in irritation as she lifted her foot to shake a piece of gravel from her favorite sling back sandal.

     “Well,” he drawled, “part of the fence is down and I had to practically drag Cade back here to get lunch.  On top of that, his busted hip is giving him hell because it’s getting ready to rain.  He had to let go two of his hired hands a few weeks back and the other didn’t do jack squat today.  It’d be best if you just go away and come back some other time."  He stepped back and started to close the screen door.

     Lacy planted her foot in front of it.  "I need to go away?  Do you realize I drove eight hours nonstop from Denver to get here on time to do this interview?” 

     The dog beside him growled.  “No,” he commanded and then turned his attention back to her.  “I’m real sorry things didn’t work out.  It’s just bad timing.”

     “For your information, I have no intention of going anywhere until I’ve spoken to Mr. Tyler directly.”  Crossing her arms, Lacy stood firm.

     A dark form suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the thoroughly irritating man.  “It’s all right, Burk.  I’ll handle this.” 

     The man in the doorway turned.  “But-”

     “There’s work to be done before it rains,” the man in the shadows replied.  “Go on.  I’ll be right behind you.” 

     “Sure.  I’ll just grab my hat.  Ma’am.”  With a nod, he headed back inside with the dog trailing him and the other man stepped forward. 

     Lacy found herself staring up at the broad shoulders and muscular arms of rodeo legend Cade Tyler.  Her gaze moved slowly upward, taking in the granite-like expression on his handsome face.

     “What can I do for you?” he asked as his dark blue eyes assessed her.

     “I..uh...” 

     He gave an exasperated sigh.  “Look, lady, if you’re a bill collector, you can just get in line for your money.  I don’t have it right now."

     Lacy was too caught up in the man’s knee-weakening looks to really grab onto his words.  The pictures she’d seen of him on the net hadn’t done him justice at all.  Cade Tyler stood just over six foot tall with long, jean clad legs and a narrow waist that emphasized his muscular shoulders and arms.  Muscles that tested the seams of the light gray t-shirt covering them.  His eyes were a much deeper blue than she expected.  And where he’d been clean-shaven in the pictures she’d seen of him, a five o’clock shadow now covered that strong jaw, giving him a ruggedly handsome appearance. 

     If you looked Cade Tyler up in the dictionary, you’d find him listed as the walking, talking definition of HUNK.

     “Pardon me?” 

     Lacy panicked.  Please don’t let me have said that out loud.  It would not only be incredibly embarrassing, but utterly unprofessional of her to ogle her assignment.  And she had definitely been ogling.

     “Lacy Dalton,” she managed with effort as she extended her hand.  “I’m from Bustin’ Loose Magazine.”

     “That rag?”

     She ignored his remark.  Even though there were some who felt the magazine didn’t have very high standards, it was going to provide her with the means to give her grandmother the best care available for Alzheimer’s patients in the Denver area. 

     “I’m here as per our agreement,” she explained.

     “Our agreement?”

     “The one we discussed over the phone,” she prompted only to receive a blank look from her assignment.  “You agreed to let me do a story on your life, about how Cade Tyler, one of rodeo’s best, is living after leaving the circuit."

      His expression darkened.  “I did what?”

     “You-”

     He cut her off.  “I heard what you said, but that’s a lie.  I never agreed to anything.”   

     He had the nerve to call her a liar?  She’d just spoken to him two days before to confirm everything.  “Look, Mr. Tyler, I’m not sure why you’ve changed your mind about letting me do your story, but I don’t appreciate your playing games with me.”

     “Lady, you’ve got the wrong man.  I’ve never spoken to you, nor would I ever agree dish out my personal life for the whole world to see.  So you can just go find yourself another has-been.”

      “Are you always this personable?”

      “Are you always this annoying?”

      It took every ounce of restraint she had not to give the irritating cowboy a piece of her mind.  But getting into a verbal sparring match with him wouldn’t accomplish anything.  She couldn’t force him into letting her do the interview.  While having her very own column would have been a dream come true, it was losing the money she’d have made doing it that frustrated her the most.  Her grandmother was the only family she had left and Lacy wanted to make her remaining days as comfortable as possible.

      She fought back tears of frustration.  Think, Lacey, think.  You need this assignment. 

      “You’re obviously not a man of your word,” she said, intending to hit him where it hurt.  A man’s pride was everything.

      “How do you figure that?” he asked with a frown.

      “Because you agreed to do the interview and then didn’t even have the decency to call and cancel before I drove all the way down here.”

      His dark brows knitted together.  “Lady, did they just let you out of the funny farm or something?”

     “Excuse me?”

     “For the last time, I never agreed to do anything.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do."  He grabbed his hat from just inside the door, slapped it on his head, and started past her, the screen door banging shut behind him.

     Lacy spun around.  “If you ask me, I’d say you landed on your head one too many times during your rodeo days.”

     Cade Tyler stopped dead in his tracks and then turned to face her.  Fury lit his eyes as he strode back onto the porch.

     “It’s not her fault,” a voice called out behind her.  The screen door swung open again and the man who had first greeted her stepped out onto the porch behind her.  “I did it.”

     Cade looked past her, confusion on his face.  “You did what?”

     “I talked to Ms. Dalton on the phone.”

     “That was you?  You told me you were him,” she said, pointing to Cade.

     He shrugged.  “A little white lie.”

     “Little hell,” Cade growled.