Killer Cowboy. Carla Cassidy

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Killer Cowboy - Carla Cassidy Cowboys of Holiday Ranch

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then set it before Cassie. “Hydrate,” she commanded.

      Cassie smiled at the old woman. “Thanks, Halena.”

      “Thanks for what?”

      “For taking care of a stupid woman who drank way too much last night.”

      “I think everyone drank too much last night,” Adam replied.

      Halena stood and took off Sawyer’s cowboy hat. “I’d better get upstairs and change. Tony and Mary should be here anytime to pick me up. Will you see to it that Sawyer gets his hat back?”

      “No problem,” Cassie replied. “I was glad to see that the new hires seemed comfortable last night,” she said when the older woman had left the kitchen. Two weeks ago she’d hired three new ranch hands.

      “They’re working out great and all the other men like them,” Adam replied. “I was surprised to see some of Humes’s men here last night. I wasn’t aware you were going to invite them.”

      “I didn’t.” She paused to gulp down the glass of water and then continued, “They crashed. Thank goodness they didn’t hang around too long.” Raymond Humes owned the ranch next to hers, and his ranch hands were ill-mannered, mean-spirited men who enjoyed wreaking havoc anywhere they went, but especially on the Holiday ranch.

      There was plenty of bad blood between her ranch and theirs. However, Raymond had made a generous offer to buy the ranch from her if she decided to sell.

      She and Adam chatted for another half an hour and by then Halena had left, and the two of them got up from the table to head down to the barn.

      “Halena’s greasy eggs actually worked,” she said as they stepped out the back door. “I’m feeling much better than I did when I first pulled myself out of bed.” She drew in a deep breath of the clean country air and was happy to notice her headache had vanished.

      The late-October sun was warm, although a cool breeze rustled through the last of the autumn leaves on the trees. New York’s Central Park would be beautiful this time of year. She shoved the errant thought out of her head. She needed to stay focused on the here and now.

      Still, there was beauty here, too. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue, and the acres of land wore various shades of greens and browns like a patchwork quilt.

      “I hope you keep feeling good after you see the condition of the barn,” Adam replied ruefully.

      “Oh, I’m expecting a mess,” she assured him.

      “One thing is for certain. People will be talking about the party for days to come. They’ll gossip about who danced with whom and whose dress was too short or whose blouse was too tight.”

      “Uh-oh, that sounds like they’ll be talking about me,” Cassie said jokingly.

      Adam’s dark brown eyes were warm as he grinned. “You looked beautiful last night, as you always do.” He quickly averted his gaze from her.

      “Thanks, Adam,” she replied. “Now, let’s go see the damage.”

      As they took off walking, Cassie thought about the man next to her. She’d come to the ranch as a city girl, a struggling shop owner, who had dreams of being a famous artist. She hadn’t known anything about cattle or ranches.

      It had been Adam who had taken her by the hand and walked her through a learning process. He’d been so patient and kind and she never would have been able to manage running this place without him. She still learned something new from him every day.

      He was also very easy on the eyes, with his dark brown hair and strong features. His shoulders were broad, his hips lean, and at times when he looked at her he made her feel like a desirable woman. But having a personal relationship with her ranch foreman wasn’t a particularly good idea, and she just didn’t feel that way about him, not that he’d ever made an advance.

      They walked past the stables, and in the distance were the cowboy quarters, or the cowboy motel as they all called it. There were twelve small apartment units and in the back of the building was a large dining/recreation space.

      Her aunt Cass Holiday had built an empire here, along with the help of twelve fiercely loyal cowboys. But this had never been Cassie’s dream. She’d been here for almost six months and it still didn’t feel like home.

      As they approached the barn entrance she stifled a moan. The remains of the night’s fun were already evident. Plastic cups were strewn around the area, along with paper plates and beer and other alcohol bottles.

      “Doesn’t anyone know how to use a trash bin anymore?” she said more to herself than to Adam.

      “Hopefully knocking down the bandstand and picking up trash are the only real jobs needed,” Adam replied.

      They walked through the large double doors and Cassie’s nose was instantly assaulted by the lingering odors of body sweat, booze and barbecue.

      Many of the bales of hay had been transformed into loose hay piles, and the orange and black streamers and Halloween decorations were either on the floor or tilted drunkenly on the walls.

      A large tin tub held a few sad apples that bobbed listlessly on the small amount of water that remained, and a red-and-white woman’s blouse hung on the arm of the blow-up skeleton.

      “Uh-oh, who went home topless?” Cassie asked.

      Adam grinned. “Amanda Wright, although she wasn’t completely topless. She had on a red, white and blue sparkly bra last time I saw her.”

      “That must have been after I went to bed.” Cassie leaned down and picked up a couple of beer cans and tossed them into a nearby trash barrel.

      “Don’t worry. By tonight we’ll have this place back the way it belongs,” Adam assured her.

      She smiled at him. “I’m not worried. Aunt Cass was darned smart when she hired all of you.”

      A flash of pain darkened Adam’s eyes. “She gave us all a chance at a new and good life. Most of us would have been dead or in jail by now if it wasn’t for your aunt.”

      Cassie knew the story. When her uncle Hank had died of cancer, all the men who had worked on the ranch had walked off, convinced that a fifty-three-year-old widow would never be able to run the big place.

      Cass, along with the help of a social worker, had hired on a dozen runaway boys. That had been fifteen years ago and those boys had turned into fine, honorable and hardworking men who had been devoted to Cass.

      “She loved all of you very much,” Cassie said softly.

      “She was the mother we never had. But now our loyalty is behind you.”

      Cassie knew that, and it only made the decision she had to make more difficult. She had no idea about the troubled backgrounds that had brought all the men here, but she knew they had embraced her as their own. The men who had been big Cass’s cowboys had become hers.

      She kicked at a pile of hay and frowned as her boot connected with something. “There’s something under all this hay,” she said.

      She

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