âWhy are you here?â she repeated
âWhatever you felt for me is long past,â Reno continued. âAnd you know I never looked at you that way.â She bit the inside of her cheek after telling the half lie.
âYouâre right on one point,â Cade said. âI still care for you, Reno. But I donât ever want to hurt you again. Iâll be going back to Idaho after Dadââ
She gave a dry laugh. âCade, everyone Iâve ever cared about has left me in one way or another. Iâm afraid I donât trust anyone anymore. So you see, youâre here preaching to the choir.â She held out her hands, palms up. âIâve already told myself Iâll never let you hurt me again. I feel nothing for you, Cade. Not contempt, not loveâ¦nothing.â
Liar.
She could forgive him for leaving her, but she couldnât forget.
Dear Reader,
This book is very dear to my heart, as Reno is a woman much like me. Proud of her American Indian heritage, Reno Blackwell loves the land, especially the mountains of Colorado. She does her best to live in harmony with the wild mustangs that roam her ranch and the government property surrounding it. In honor of her grandfatherâs memory, Reno has created a sanctuary for those mustangs too old, lame or otherwise unwanted for adoption.
Like the horses she loves, Renoâs had a tough row to hoeâbetrayed by the man she thought of as her father, left alone when her grandfather passed away. And deserted by Cade Lantana, a good-looking cowboy seven years her senior.
Reno hung on to the courage sheâd learned from Grandpa Mel and stayed at her home in Eagleâs Nest, on Wild Horse Ranch, where she created the mustang sanctuary. But sheâs never forgotten the betrayal she felt when Cade left Eagleâs Nest. Now Cade is back, a BLM ranger, out to get the poachers who are stealing the mustangs Reno loves with all her heart.
Reno is also determined to see the poachers pay for their crimes, and equally determined to guard her heart against Cade.
Come with me, dear reader, and ride the trails of Coloradoâs western slope. Letâs see what it takes for a strong-headed woman and an equally strong hero to forget the past and focus on the future.
I love hearing from my readers. You can reach me at [email protected]. Please reference the book title on the subject line.
Brenda Mott
Cowboy for Keeps
Brenda Mott
TORONTO ⢠NEW YORK ⢠LONDON
AMSTERDAM ⢠PARIS ⢠SYDNEY ⢠HAMBURG STOCKHOLM ⢠ATHENS ⢠TOKYO ⢠MILAN ⢠MADRID PRAGUE ⢠WARSAW ⢠BUDAPEST ⢠AUCKLAND
When Brenda Mott isnât busy writing or rescuing animalsâshe has more than thirty dogs at any given timeâshe enjoys curling up with a good book (naturally!), riding her horses or walking her dogs along the riverbank. Brenda can trace her family roots back to the Cherokees who walked the Trail of Tears, and her ranchâtwenty-one acres deep in the Tennessee woodsâis located on part of what used to be the original claims of the Cherokee Nation. Brendaâs stories often reflect her love of horses by having a ranch-themed plot. She enjoys writing romance best of all, because thereâs always a guaranteed happy ending. She loves hearing from her readers. You may reach her at [email protected].
This book is dedicated to my father, his father and
to my son, Chance (a-da-na-ta di-ni-la-wi) and my cousin, MelvynâCherokee men who are every bit as tough and loving as Renoâs Grandpa Mel. And to my daughter, Lorettaâa smart, strong woman like Reno. Neh-go-he-luh ah-yuh-we-yah.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LIGHTNING CUT ACROSS the sky with a vengeance, turning darkness to light for the span of a heartbeat. Long enough to give Reno Blackwell a clear glimpse of the horses. They raced through the clearing below, scattering like spilled marbles. Flared nostrils and urgent whinnies made their fear palpableâmore so than the pounding of hooves on rock.
Without a second thought, Reno sent her own mount plunging over the edge of the hillside. The ground slid away beneath the blue roan, rock striking rock as Plenty Coups tucked his haunches and propelled himself forward in a hell-bent-for-leather descent.
Thunder rumbled like an angry spirit, and the long-awaited rain poured down relentlessly. As horse and rider reached the bottom of the slope, Reno searched the darkness for signs of human movement. She prayed for another flash of lightning, a glimpse of a headlightâ¦anything to help her locate the poachers.
There. At the edge of the clearing.
All-terrain vehicles moved easily across the rocky ground, driving the mustangs forward, herding them along. Reno spotted at least two ATVsâand men with riflesâbefore the sky blackened again, but she could still see the bobbing glow of headlights. Her pulse pounded in her temples.