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  THE CATTLEMAN

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, January 2004

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  1056 Home Avenue

  Akron, OH 44310-3502

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-766-2

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  THE CATTLEMAN © 2004 MLYN HURN

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Kari Berton

  Cover art by Nathalie Moore.

  The Cattleman

  Mlyn Hurn

  Prologue

  Julie Bradley was twenty-one years old today. The world should have been rosy and perfect, but her father had passed away just under a month ago. Her whole family, and in fact a fair number of people throughout the county, were in mourning for Jason Bradley. He was a rancher and a well-respected one as well. His presence was sorely missed by many, not just by his immediate family and friends.

  She had always been close to her father, often riding in front of him as a young child, and then joining right in with the work on the ranch as she got older. Yet it was because of her father that she was not here when he died. Instead of being at his bedside with the rest of the family, she was attending a highly rated finishing school for young ladies. Her mother had suggested it when she skipped a dance, for which she even had a new dress, to spend the time in the barn with a foaling mare. According to her mother, she needed to learn what the truly important things in her life really were.

  Julie had turned to her brothers for help, but they refused to get involved. Desperately she had looked to her beloved father. Looking back, she realized that broaching the subject while dressed in hand-me-downs from her younger brother and covered in mud, dust and some unsavory other things had not been the wisest thing she’d ever done.

  Now she was home, with her family, and she had the rest of her life ahead of her. She was still resentful over not getting the last three years with her father, but she also knew that it was in the past and nothing would ever change it. From now on she would look toward the future. Technically she had turned twenty-one at two this morning, but the party was being held this evening. Actually, it was a late afternoon picnic, followed by dancing, and it had already started. She was late!

  In respect to her father’s memory, the party was being held at the ranch of a friend. It was the reason she had not left with everyone else, pulling an excuse out at the last minute. She didn’t want the party at Jim Morgan’s, but no one had heard her early protests except Jim. He had quickly pointed out how this would make it so much easier on her mother and the rest of her family. Swallowing her feelings, she had agreed.

  Standing in front of the mirror in her room, she recalled that Jim’s mother had protested also. But even though he was only twenty-five, few people objected to his suggestions. Jim had reached over and covered his mother’s hand with his to discourage her, merely shaking his head. Her brother, Nick, who was also Jim’s lifelong best friend, had spoken up in favor of moving the party to Jim’s ranch. So, she caved.

  Her form of protest was nonverbal. She was showing up in pants, shirt and boots. If this was her party, then she was damned sure she was going to have fun. Wearing a dress, in her opinion, was not the path to a good time. She rode her prize mare over to Jim’s, enjoying the solitude of the ride, which was something she had sorely missed while out East.

  * * * * *

  Immediately upon her arrival, it was apparent that she was dressed to party with the children, rather than enjoy dancing and mingling with the adults. Angry with herself for too many reasons to stand around and think about them, she tied her horse at one of the scattered hitching posts. Feeling self-conscious, she began moving between the guests, ignoring the glances at her clothing choices and accepting the “welcome homes” she received.

  It soon became obvious that the young women her age had moved on with their lives even though hers had been put on hold to be “finished.” The two women who had gone to the local school at the same time she had were both married. Laura had two children already and Katherine was expecting her first. In less than five minutes, Julie realized that she no longer had anything in common with her friends. While the other women’s lives were full of husbands and their homes and families, Julie’s life was still basically self-centered.

  If she were inclined to be completely honest with herself, she’d know that this topic had been bothering her for quite some time. When she was on the ranch, her days had been filled morning to night with things to do around the barns, the animals or even riding the range with her father and brothers. When she went to Boston her world had changed. For the first time, it became important what she wore and how her hair was done. And while there may have been talk about her back home, once she was at school and busily caught up in the life she led in Boston, she discovered the true meaning of gossip about who did what and with whom and what they wore while they did it. Quickly she felt the effects first-hand, and curbed her behavior and styles.

  Always present in the back of her mind was the fact that once school ended, she could return here and resume her previous life. Beyond that, she’d never considered what she would do back home with her family. For her, the future was supposed to be like the past. Once she returned to the ranch, she’d resume riding the range or caring for the cattle and farm animals. Of course, her favorite were the horses. Many times she’d longed to be home, learning as much as possible from her father and brothers. With her father’s death, Julie had been too grief-stricken to think of anything except returning home. There had been no way that she could remain in Boston and she had rushed home.

  Suddenly Julie didn’t feel at all like the party-girl everyone expected to see. It was possible they were just trying to make her happier, since it was her birthday. But her feelings were too jumbled to smile and pretend. Quietly she sneaked around the barn, waiting until the crowd near the impromptu bar diminished. It was almost too easy to grab a bottle of something and run away again. With the bottle partially hidden inside her shirt, she made her way to the dense trees that edged the small creek approximately half a mile behind Jim’s large home. Once there, if she looked hard enough, she could find a gate, which led into a garden. The trees and bushes had all been cultivated after the house was built to maximize the idea of a private, relaxing place.

  The only reason she was able to find it was because of a letter her younger sister, Angie, had written her. Jim’s younger brother, Tony, who’d always had his eye on Angela Bradley, had generously offered to show it to her one day. Julie’s sister confided in the letter that this was where Tony kissed her for the first time. Alone in the garden, Julie found a long white-painted bench and sat down. It took a few seconds for her to relax and let the gentle sounds of babbling water work its wiles on her senses.

  Tears came, followed by deep sobbing. At some point she opened the bottle and took a drink. Looking at the clear liquid, she wondered what all the hoopla was about and then she took two more deep swigs. After she rubbed her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, Julie decided she was hot. The shirt came off and fell to the grass at her feet. Picking up the bottle, she drank more.

  “So what?” she said softly to the water and trees. “I’m entitled to cry.”

  Listening closely to the sounds around her, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her jeans-clad legs. Talking to no one, she spoke again. “My dad dies and I’ve lost three years with him that I’ll never get b
ack.” Without thinking, she pounded her fists against the seat. “Damn it, God! It isn’t fair!” Sobbing softly, she ignored the pain in her hands because it couldn’t compare to the heartache inside. “Shit!” she finally shouted, just because she wanted to.

  Then she looked down and saw that the reason her one hand hurt more than the other was because it was bleeding. Turning her head, she saw blood on the seat and the split in the wood she had not noticed when she first sat down. Quickly she lifted her hand away from her body to keep the blood from getting on her undershirt, deciding the only way to stop this was to wash it first and then tear her shirt and wrap it around her palm.

  When she came to the edge of the water the slippery grass, combined with too much alcohol on an empty stomach, caused Julie to lose her balance and tumble headlong into the stream. The cold bath was a good way to clear a foggy brain, she quickly realized. A noise caught her attention and she turned to look at the bank on the other side of the creek.

  Jim Morgan was a tall man, broad-shouldered, and when he sat atop his seventeen-hands-tall stallion, the two made a truly impressive sight to behold. The felt hat he wore was pulled forward to keep the sun out of his dark eyes and shadowed his tanned face. Today, as a concession to the August heat, his cotton shirtsleeves were rolled back, revealing his tanned, muscular forearms. His mount acted a bit skittish, but the man easily and deftly controlled the stallion’s temper.

  “Happy birthday, Miss Bradley.”

  Julie’s temper rose at the sarcastic tone in his voice—but her body flooded with heat and desire.

  Five years had done nothing to decrease the attraction she had first recognized at the tender age of sixteen for her lifetime antagonist. Only now, after spending time living in a different city and way of life in general, she had a much better understanding of just what these feelings were. Seeing Jim once again, every single one of those feelings, and more, came rushing back. She was no longer cold, not the least little bit. All she could do, though, was to sit in the water as he spurred the big black horse to enter the stream and walk toward her.

  Jim made no effort to curb the smile curving his lips upward. Seeing Julie Bradley, half-undressed, wet and alone, was making this feel like his birthday rather than hers. She was his present! Immediately he realized that three years had not made the least difference in how he felt about her. But when she was eighteen and her father sent her east, he was just starting out with his own ranching concern separate from his father’s and had nothing to offer a woman. Or more precisely, he had little resources to comprise a respectable dowry should Jason Bradley have demanded one.

  And there was the fact that whenever he and Julie were together sparks usually flew in all directions. But ever since she was sixteen, there had been this sort of magical transformation in her, or perhaps it had only been within himself. After that, every time he saw Julie, he knew that it was desire that had prompted him to antagonize her. Basically he did anything, good or bad, just like a kid, to get her attention. Often it was bad, yet there were times when her eyes would meet his that he knew she felt something, and it had nothing to do with dislike.

  “You should have told me you wanted this to be a swimming party,” he murmured softly. He knew damn well her being in the water had little to do with a desire to swim in it. But to be honest, seeing her wearing the cut down version of long-john underwear, the way it clung to her curvaceous body like a second skin, was more than a little strain on his nervous system. Right now his own body was pressing him for some relief.

  Logically he could do two things: he could ride away or he could dismount and see what would happen. Almost before he realized it, his body was already in motion. Julie spoke immediately, but the words fell on his suddenly deaf ears.

  “Oh no, Jim, your boots will be ruined!”

  Jim shook his head and reached down to grasp her hand. She accepted it and as he pulled her up, the blood dripping from her other hand caught his attention. “Holy cow, Julie, what the hell happened to your hand?”

  “I caught it on a splinter of wood on that bench. Technically that makes it your fault, right?”

  Jim looked up from his inspection of her hand to meet her eyes. What he saw, though, didn’t seem to match what she’d just spoken. Dropping her hand, he took a step toward her.

  Julie froze. Her stomach was doing flip-flops and she was sure Jim was going to kiss her. Every fiber of her being was shouting “yes” and she took a step closer. She could feel her heart pounding harder in her chest than it ever had before. Desperately she wanted to feel his lips on hers. Many times she had dreamed of this happening. Now, less than a foot separated them.

  Black Devil, the stallion Jim had ridden into the water, nickered and began walking toward the grass-covered bank. It was just enough to break the spell and they both pulled back. Julie felt her cheeks flame hotly with embarrassment. She had realized that if Jim had wanted to kiss her, the horse couldn’t have distracted him. Obviously, in her mind, she was alone in her feelings. Quickly she stumbled back to the bank and then onto the bench. Looking around, it took her a few moments to locate her discarded shirt.

  Jim grabbed the shirt before she had the chance and then he sat down beside her. “What were you planning on doing?” he asked with a smile.

  Julie looked over at him and saw that he had also picked up the discarded bottle. It surprised her to realize that she had drunk enough of it so that it showed barely half-full. Deciding to ignore the subject of the bottle, she answered him as she reached for the shirt he was still holding. “I am tearing a piece of my shirt to wrap around my hand. Then everything will be fine.”

  Jim, though, apparently didn’t agree as he continued to hold the shirt, shifting it just beyond her reach. “Speaking for myself, I wouldn’t object. You’ve always been a woman to dress for yourself, Julie, but in that wet shirt…”

  Julie saw that Jim was looking at her chest. Slowly she bent her neck and looked down. It took a moment for her to realize that she looked just like she did when she was sitting naked in the tub. The thin material disguised nothing from any onlooker. And Jim was most definitely looking.

  “Julie?”

  Looking up, she saw the intent look on Jim’s face and the fire in his eyes. Normally she’d say he was angry with her, but suddenly she knew it wasn’t his usual fury or disapproval. No. What she was seeing was the same as she’d seen on the faces of the young men she’d met in Boston. They had all had a hard time understanding that she wasn’t interested in them. But she liked the look in his eyes. All they needed—

  “Hey! So this is where the birthday girl has been hiding!”

  Startled, she and Jim both turned and saw his brother, Tony, walking toward them. A second later she felt her shirt being draped across the front of her.

  “Julie accidentally cut her hand,” Jim spoke as he tossed the bottle into the bushes next to the bench. Turning to Julie, he said, “I’ll have you put on my shirt, and then we can tear a strip off yours.”

  “You need any help?” Tony asked and started to walk toward the bench.

  Jim stood up and walked to meet his brother. “No, but if you wouldn’t mind taking Devil with you, I’d appreciate it.”

  Julie watched the two men, craning her neck to see. She saw Tony nodding several times before he turned, grabbed Black Devil’s dangling reins and walked back out of the secluded area. Quickly, as Jim started back toward her, she pulled her shirt on. When he reached the bench, she had managed just two buttons, but at least she was covered. The thought of remaining exposed in front of him had been too taxing to contemplate. There was also the mental picture dancing around in her head of Jim minus his shirt, and it had her heart racing and her breathing becoming more labored.

  “You can go too, Jim, if you’d like. I’ll just stay here for a bit and put some pressure on this. It will be fine in a few minutes, I’m sure.”

  Julie wasn’t all that surprised when she heard fabric tearing. Looking up, she saw tha
t he had torn the lower edge, about three inches wide, from his shirt. Disappointment flooded through her as she realized that he’d done it while still wearing his shirt, only pulling it free from his jeans. Without saying another word, he picked her hand up and deftly bound the shirt around it. Her emotions were becoming more jumbled and confusing with each passing second. She was sad he was ending this interlude so succinctly, yet confused because she should have been glad…right?

  “Thank you,” she murmured when he released the small, neat knot he had tied.

  “No problem, but you should come to the house so I can put a clean dressing on it.”

  Julie hated the awkward feelings overwhelming her at the moment. “Maybe a little bit later, so no one sees us going in together.”

  Jim turned away abruptly, buttoning what was left of his shirt as he did so. “Yeah, it’s important to keep that never ending feud going between us. Enjoy your party.”

  Chapter 1

  Julie didn’t feel like she was going to be thirty years old in less than a month, but looking at Jim she could see that time had only been kind to him. If anything, he was even more attractive than he had been when she’d last seen him. That had been last year, which was the first time since her twenty-first birthday. It was hard to think about it now, but later that day, her whole life had changed once again.

  Their families had been close, both with a large number of children, several of whom were the same or close in age. Her family, the Bradleys, and his, the Morgans, had lived on the adjacent ranches for all of her life. Their ranches had many shared borders, fences and water rights.

  Her family consisted of her parents, Victoria and Jason, and her four brothers and one sister, three of the brothers older than she. Her second oldest brother, Nick, had been best friends with Jim Morgan for practically all of their lives. Shortly after her twenty-first birthday, at the birthday party in fact, the attorney handling her recently deceased father’s estate had revealed a codicil to her father’s will. Since Jason’s oldest son, Jared, was a lawyer, and yet had known nothing of this, had only added to the consternation of everyone.