Chapter One

Lucky Albright had been driving all day and she still wasn’t out of Texas. Worse, she had no idea where she was. With her gas gauge on empty, her stomach gnawing a hole clean through to her backside, and her wallet bone dry of remedying either of her first two issues, she pulled into the parking lot of the only building she’d seen since the last small town of Hole in the Wall. Maybe, just maybe, someone inside could point her to the nearest homeless shelter.

Because that was what she was.

Homeless.

She reached up to swipe at the ready tears, cursing herself for shedding even one when the people of Comfort, Texas, had been anything but a comfort to her. Hell, they’d run her out of town like an unwanted stray dog. All she’d been looking for was a quiet place to call her home. And they’d kicked her out after a series of unfortunate events that hadn’t been her fault at all.

She could still picture the mayor of Comfort along with over half the town loading her meager belongings into her truck.

“Get out of town and stay out of town,” the mayor had said. “In fact, get the hell out of Texas. Your kind is not wanted anywhere near the great Lone Star State.”

Her kind?

With townsfolk lined up along the street, blocking her return to city limits, she had felt like she was part of a cartoon or a reality show about being punked. Surely this wasn’t happening to her. She had every right to be in that town. Never in her life had she committed a crime, she followed rules, she was an upstanding citizen.

So she’d had a run of bad luck. It wasn’t her fault Mitsy Grumbal’s dog tangled with a skunk, Joe Sarli wrecked into the side of one of their precious historic buildings, Raymond Rausch’s cow had gotten loose and trampled the flowers around the town square, or the public library had burned down. But somehow, she’d been the one closest to the incidents and she’d taken the blame. Taken wasn’t exactly the term she’d use. Assigned was closer to reality.

As she drove through the parking lot packed with a Saturday night crowd, the tears blurred her eyes, but she refused to shed even one more. Before she could find a place to pull in, her engine sputtered and died. Her beat-up pickup drifted to a stop behind four large, shiny new trucks.

Empty.

Lucky leaned her head on the steering wheel, fighting back more tears. “Fuck this!” she yelled, slamming her palm against the dash. “I’m an Albright. Albrights don’t give up and they sure as shootin’ don’t cry.” She unbuckled her seat belt, climbed down from the truck, tucked her hair up into her cowboy hat and strode for the front door of the building, glancing up at the crooked sign hanging overhead.

Ugly Stick Saloon.

Figured. She could use a beer about now, but she didn’t have the money to buy one, much less a gallon of gas to get her into the next town. All she could hope for was to find work washing dishes, scrubbing toilets or, if her luck changed, landing a job with a rancher who needed a ranch hand. One who would give her a lift to the ranch until she could afford to put gas in her truck and bring it with her.

Music pulsed through the corrugated tin walls of the building. As Lucky stepped through the front entrance, she could hear the excited screams of the women inside.

A large gender-ambiguous person stood guard just inside the door, blocking her entrance. “Sorry, mister, it’s Ladies Night. No men allowed.”

Lucky didn’t mind when people mistook her for a man. She was taller than most women and slender, more athletic than curvy. And she liked to wear men’s jeans, chambray shirts and cowboy boots. The horses and cows she preferred to work with didn’t care what she wore or how she wore it.

But right at that moment, she needed to get inside and find help. Either that or stay the night in her truck, blocking the four larger trucks in their parking spaces.

“Suits me just fine.” She swept off the cowboy hat and let her long sandy-blond hair fall down about her shoulders. That too would have been cut short, but she hadn’t had time or the spare cash to get it cut in the past couple months and it grew like hay in a warm summer rain.

The bouncer’s eyes narrowed and gave her a swift appraising once-over before nodding. “There’s a five-dollar cover charge to get in tonight.” A meaty hand came out, palm up.

Crap. If she’d had five bucks, she wouldn’t be out of gas at this point. She’d have bought a gallon in Hole in the Wall instead of risking another fifteen miles to Temptation. “Look, my truck…stalled out in the parking lot. I need to speak with the owner.”

“Sorry, Audrey Anderson is busy.”

Feeling more desperate by the second, Lucky put on her best poker face and insisted, “I need to speak with Ms. Anderson.”

The bouncer crossed beefy arms over a broad chest. “Unless you pay the cover charge, you ain’t gettin’ in.”

Defeated, Lucky trudged back to her truck. She couldn’t leave it in the middle of the parking lot, blocking other vehicles from getting out. She put it in neutral and, rounded to the back and leaned with all her might against the tailgate. The heavy vehicle barely moved an inch.

Throwing all the anger and frustration she’d lived with over the past two years into her next push, she got the truck rolling. Grunting and pushing, she plowed her feet into the gravel and the vehicle moved faster.

Until that moment, Lucky hadn’t noticed the slight slope leading to the far end of the parking lot, the line of trucks and the drainage ditch beyond.

Once the truck was in motion, she glanced up and froze momentarily.

The truck was now rolling at a good clip and headed straight for a bright red pickup, with a shiny paint job and a license plate that read USS1.

Lucky dug her heels into the gravel and leaned back, holding on to the bumper, but it did little slow the momentum, her worn boot heels kicking up lines of dust behind her. 

“No,” she said out loud, visions of the charred remains of the Comfort Public Library flooding her head. “Not again.” She willed the strength of a bulldozer into her back and tried again to slow the vehicle.

It rolled faster, until it slammed into the back of the pretty red truck, forcing its front wheels over the edge of the embankment, where it teetered for a moment. Gravity and the weight of Lucky’s truck gave it an added oomph, and it slid down into the drainage ditch below.

Her own truck followed the red truck into the ditch, metal crunching metal.

Catching herself before she too pitched over the edge, Lucky teetered on the embankment, staring down at the wreckage, her heart sinking into her boots.

“Holy shit.”

Why was it when she thought things were really bad they got worse? The phrase it only goes up from here never entered her realm of possibilities.

She stood for a long time, staring at the trucks in the ditch, wondering how she’d talk her way out of this one.

“Fuck, Audrey’s gonna be pissed,” a voice said beside her. A pretty blonde stood with glazed eyes and a tight skirt just behind Lucky, swaying slightly.

“Yup. Audrey loves that truck. Almost as much as she loves her red boots,” an equally pretty brunette said.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.”

“Mister, you got some ‘splainin’ to do.” The blonde hiccupped, pressed a hand to her lips and stared at the brunette, her eyes rounded and dancing with amusement.

The brunette with the big brown eyes giggled. “Shh. Mona, you’re swayin’.”

Mona hiccupped and pointed at the brunette. “Don’t think you’re so cool, Bunny. You’re swayin’ too.”

They hugged each other, falling to the ground giggling.

Lucky’s gut twisted. “Please tell me that truck didn’t belong to Audrey Anderson, the owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon.”

The women giggled more, rolling on the ground, Mona aware enough to say, “Okay, we won’t tell you. Shh, Bunny, it’s a secret.”

“Fuck secrets.” Bunny laughed again, her eyes filling with tears of senseless, uncontrollable mirth. “Jackson just bought her that truck to match her favorite boots.”

“Do you suppose you could go back into the Ugly Stick Saloon and ask her to come outside?” Lucky asked, biting back her frustration at the two women’s staggering inebriation.

“Sure,” Mona said. “Wanna see her face when she realizes that’s her truck in the ditch.”

“Me too. Wait, where’s my truck?” Bunny asked.

“You rode with me, silly. Besides, you don’t own a truck.”

“That’s right.” Bunny giggled.

“Do you two mind getting Audrey?” Lucky reminded them.

“Going,” Mona responded. “Come on. Maybe we can see Cory dance again.”

Lucky followed the two ladies to the door.

“Greta Sue, we’re back,” Mona sang and showed the bouncer the ink stamp on her wrist.

Bunny did the same and the bouncer allowed them inside, while Lucky received an eat-shit-and-die-because-you’re-not-getting-inside-without-the-requisite-cover-charge look.

Greta Sue. Hell, who knew she was female?

Lucky held her breath as Greta Sue pointed at her, her gaze narrowing, warning her not to make any sudden moves.

Lucky waited, the acids in her empty stomach churning, eating a hole through the lining. What would she say to the owner of the Ugly Stick? Would she be like her bouncer, large, bulky and friggin’ scary? Would she slam her into the ground with one thick stump of a fist and leave her there to die?

She’d considered death as an alternative, but Lucky had one problem with that…she liked living.

The scent of beer and grilled burgers drifted toward her from inside the bar and she swayed with hunger, not having eaten since the night before. She truly was in hell.

Greta Sue closed the door to the stomach-churning smells, leaving Lucky out in the dark. A minute passed, then two. Had the two ladies forgotten? As plastered as they were, that could have been the case.

Seven minutes passed before Lucky came to the sad conclusion the ladies had either gotten lost in the crowd, or forgotten. From all the whooping and hollering going on inside, Lucky guessed it was the latter.

She wondered if there was a rear entrance. If she could at least sneak inside and find Audrey, she could break the bad news and hopefully avoid going to jail. She rounded the tin building that vibrated with the sound of the sexy music and screams from the crowd. A door at the back opened and a woman stepped out carrying a bag of trash. She propped the door to keep it from shutting, then set off for the large trash bin set away from the building.

Her heart hammering, Lucky saw her break and took it. She ran for the door, careful not to make too much noise and ducked inside. The back of the building had a hallway with a room off to the left and another to the right. Footsteps on the porch behind her made her turn left. Her back to the room, she peeked out into the hallway, waiting for the person to pass by.

“Hey, buddy, you dancin’ tonight?” a male voice said behind her. “Or are you lookin’ for the poker game?”

Lucky spun, her cheeks burning and her jaw dropped. A truly beautiful man with long blond hair stood in front of her, wearing nothing but a G-string and chaps. He stuck out his hand. “Cory McBride.”

“Lucky Albright,” she said automatically.

“Nice to meet you. So what is it? Poker or dance?” He waved toward the other men in various states of undress. All equally as handsome as the man in front of her. Holy hell, they were strippers!

Lucky swallowed hard to ease her dry throat. “Poker,” she eked out.

“Across the hall.” Cory opened the door and pointed at another door.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Don’t you let them eat you alive.”

Lucky glanced down the hallway. The coast was clear and she stepped out. When the door didn’t close behind her, she glanced back at the man.

He nodded. “That’s the one. Go on in.”

It was go in or admit she wasn’t there for either dancing or poker.

She chose the door to the right and walked in, turning to close it behind her.

A light glowed from around an inside corner.

“That you, Audrey?” a voice called out.

Lucky didn’t answer, praying they’d think the door opened and closed and no one had actually entered.

“Guess it wasn’t Audrey,” the voice said. “I’m going for a refill on our pitcher of beer. Anyone have an objection to Budweiser? Jackson, Nick, Isaac?”

“Bring me back one of those horny women,” one man called out. “And while you’re at it get one for yourself. You’ve been too uptight lately. You really need a wife.”

The others chuckled.

The voice moving nearer responded with, “I’m not ready to be shackled to someone who doesn’t know a horse shoe from a stiletto.”

“What you need is a good old-fashioned cowgirl. Boots, jeans, hat and all. No nonsense, no frills.”

“That’s exactly what I need, Jackson,” the voice said.

“One who can ride a horse, drive a tractor and stay up all night with a sick cow,” the one called Jackson added.

“You don’t need a wife, you need a ranch hand.”

“Nick, that’s all well and good, but what would he do for sex?” Jackson asked.

The voice moving closer responded, “I can get that in the next county. There’s a widow there who’s more than happy to accommodate. No commitment required.”

“Ah, that gets old.”

“Hasn’t yet.”

“We should fix him up with someone local,” Nick said.

“Got any ideas?” Jackson asked.

“The man’s been picky all his life. Hasn’t dated the same woman more than twice.”

“All I ask is a woman who’s faithful, doesn’t nag, loves me and all my faults and doesn’t care if I track mud on the floor.” The voice sounded right next to Lucky.

One of the men chortled. “You just described my dog.”

Lucky agreed, the man needed a dog, not a woman.

The man headed her way snorted. “Am I askin’ too much?”

Yes. She bet he wasn’t all that perfect, yet he was expecting perfection in a woman. Jerk.

“Yeah, big brother. When you find one like that, let me know.”

“Hell, if you’re nice to me, I might even share her with you. After all, what are brothers for?”

“Share, hell! I might arm wrestle you for her.”

The man thought he could share a woman with his brother? What kind of asshole was he? It was as if the woman would have no say in the matter. No wonder he wasn’t married. With his attitude, what woman would have him?

“Since I’m not likely to find one out in the crowd tonight, don’t worry. You won’t get your ass kicked at the arm wrestling.”

“I hope your arm wrestling is better than your poker skills.”

The men laughed while Lucky glanced around, looking for a place to hide and finding none. She whipped off her hat, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders. Surely the man wouldn’t be threatened by a girl and throw a punch at her.

When the man rounded the corner, he stopped short, all his six-foot something, broad-shouldered, dark-haired gorgeousness. “What the hell?”

“You say something, Trent?” Jackson’s deep voice called out.

Lucky pleaded with her eyes, pressing a finger to her lips. Holy hell, the man in front of her should have been on the other side of the hallway preparing to strip. He certainly had the body for it. And with his ego the size of Texas, he could pull it off.

Trent’s eyes narrowed and he hesitated before replying, “No, just stubbed my toe.” His gaze traveled the length of her.

“There’s a light switch on the wall by the door,” Isaac said.

“I’m okay, just a little unlucky. However, I have high hopes of getting luckier.” His mouth curved upward in a smooth, sexy grin.

Lucky’s heart beat faster and her knees wobbled. If she thought he was good looking before the smile…wow. And she usually didn’t get all weak-kneed around men, seeing them as competition, not the prize.

“We hope your lousy luck holds true through the rest of the hands.”

A rumble of chuckles sounded from the men out of sight.

Trent motioned toward the door with the empty plastic pitcher in his hand.

Lucky opened it slowly, peeked out and sighed when she’d determined that the door across the hallway was closed and the hallway itself was empty. She stepped out and turned around to face Trent so fast she knocked the pitcher from his hand. It skidded across the floor to the other side.

They both bent to pick it up at the same time.

Lucky reached it first, grabbed and jerked upright, her skull colliding with his nose.

“Damn!” Trent exclaimed.

Lucky’s head smarted and she swayed at the pain. When she could focus her gaze on him, her heart sank to her wobbly knees.

Trent clutched his nose, his eyes watering, blood trickling down his chin.

“Oh hell. Did I do that?” Her belly clenched. If she could find a way to screw things up, she did. With a frantic glance around the empty hallway, she despaired of finding a towel to stem the flow of blood. With a desperate jerk, she pulled her shirt off her back, thankful she’d worn a tank top beneath the chambray. She held the garment up to his face. “Move your hands,” she commanded.

He did, the blood dripping onto her shirt. She pressed the fabric to his nose gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?” she asked, staring into the most beautiful dark chocolate eyes she’d ever seen. She could fall right into those and get lost forever. Good grief! She’d never been this mesmerized by a man before. Ever.

Her pulse hammering against her ears, she pulled the shirt away from his nose. “It’s already stopped bleeding.”

“Good.” He flung the shirt to the side, grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head. “Perhaps you could tell me why you were hiding in the poker room, and why you were back here where only employees are allowed. I don’t think I’ve seen you working here before.” He pinned her body to the wall with his, not giving her room to raise her knee fast and hard enough to hit him where it counted.

She squirmed, fighting against his strong hold, the heat of his body against hers doing funny things to her insides. It had been a long time since a man had bested her and it infuriated her as well as sparked something in her that she’d thought long dead.

Lust.

And damned if he didn’t smell good. Like saddle leather and a subtle aftershave. She loved the smell of leather and aftershave. It made her feel all girlie. With a gasp, she fought harder. “Let go of me. I was looking for Audrey Anderson.”

“If you’re here to rob her, you’ll have to go through everyone else in the place to get to her.” His grip tightened.

“I’m not here to rob Audrey or anyone else.”

“Then what do you want with her?”

“None of your business.”

“You made it my business when you snuck into our poker game.”

Lucky chewed on her lip, hating that he held her so securely and hating even more that her body was reacting to his leaning against hers. “I have something to tell her.”

“Tell me and I’ll pass it on to her.”

She straightened, her lips pressing into a tight line. She didn’t like being manhandled—even if he smelled good enough to lick—and worse, she didn’t want to confess her crime to this man. “I’ll tell her what I came to say when I see her.”

“Tell you what…I’ll let the bouncer decide.”

Lucky’s eyes widened. As much as she disliked being detained by this man, the bouncer was a thousand times scarier. “I need to see Audrey. It’s very important. And the bouncer wouldn’t let me.”

“Greta Sue won’t let you? Why?”

“Because…” She searched for a good reason other than the truth. Shame made her cheeks burn. She didn’t want to admit she was broke and couldn’t afford the cover charge to get in. “Because. Damn it!”

“Not good enough.”

Anger, shame, desperation roiled up and exploded. “I couldn’t pay the cover charge to get in the front door. There! Are you satisfied?” Her bottom lip trembled and she bit into it to keep it steady. She’d never been down and out before in her life and it galled her no end. “Look, just let me talk to her and I’ll leave as soon as I can.” She’d have to walk, but she’d leave just to get away from the man and the way he made her heart pound like horses hooves on hard-packed dirt in an all-out gallop.

“Look, I’m feeling generous tonight. I’ll get you that meeting with Audrey.”

Hope surged, along with the dread of having to tell the owner of the bar she’d run her truck into a ditch. “You will?”

He nodded. “On one condition.”

Her brows narrowed. She knew it was too good to be true. People always wanted something. Nothing ever came for free, and normally she was just fine with that, except now. She was broke. “What condition?”

“One kiss.” His gaze shifted to her lips.

She struggled against his hold on her hands. “No.”

He let go of one hand and dragged her toward the rear exit with the other.

She dug in her boot heels but got no traction from the smooth wood floors. He out-weighed her, out-muscled her and she could do nothing to stop him. Stubborn resignation set in. What good did it do to fight? He refused to relent and she was going nowhere. Lucky quit fighting and followed.

He opened the door and waved a hand toward the back parking area. “I suggest you take it up with Greta Sue at the front entrance.”

Lucky assumed that because she hadn’t fought him the last few steps, he thought she’d go willingly. When he let go of her hand, she let her shoulders sag as if defeated, but she was far from it.

“You’re missing your chance to meet Audrey.” His brows rose invitingly. “It won’t cost you much. Just one little kiss.”

Her chin tipped up. “When I kiss a man, it’s because I want to, not because I need a favor. And frankly, I find nothing kissable about you.” Her gaze traveled his length from tip to toe and heat flared, belying her words. There were far too many kissable things about this man, except for his inflated ego and his unrealistic views on a perfect woman. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He stepped back to let her pass.

She stuck out her hand, offering to shake his. Hoping he’d take it so that she could use the one trick she knew to subdue a randy cowboy. When he set his hand in hers, she twisted and yanked his hand up behind his back and between his shoulder blades, then planted her boot on his cute ass and shoved him through the doorway, slamming it shut behind him.

She spun so fast she almost fell. Then she ran in the opposite direction, hoping to get lost in the crowd before tall, dark and arrogant could catch up with her. Then maybe she’d find Audrey and break the bad news to her.

The door behind her slammed open, but she didn’t turn to see who was there, knowing she only had seconds to make good her escape.

Coming from behind the bar, Lucky spied the bartender, a pretty woman with auburn hair, wearing black leather like she meant it.

“Excuse me,” Lucky shouted over the rabid crowd of screaming women.

A man danced on the stage. One with long blond hair and a killer body dressed in nothing but a G-string.

Lucky recognized him as the man she’d met in the back. Cory, he’d said was his name. His body was perfect, one she’d love to stay and watch, if only she wasn’t facing a huge bill to have the owner’s truck fixed with money she didn’t have. How did she manage to get in situations like this?

The bartender slapped five mugs of beer onto a tray before she turned to Lucky. “What can I get you?” she asked.

“Audrey Anderson?”

The bartender nodded toward the stage where a woman introduced the blond-haired man to the audience as Cory McBride. “She’s the emcee, right now.”

Lucky groaned. To get to her, she had to wade through tightly packed women who appeared to have staked their claims on their own pieces of the floor, unwilling to let anyone else get closer. They fought to place bills in the man’s G-string and get their opportunity to grope.

Lucky snorted. This was not the scene for her. She wanted a man who didn’t have to dance for a living. One who worked with animals. Feeling more comfortable around animals than people, Lucky was far out of her element in the packed barroom. But it couldn’t be helped. She had to get to Audrey and let her know what had happened.

Trying not to step on anyone, she pushed her way through the crowd, taking elbows to the gut, her boots stomped on by other cowboy boots and some stilettos. All the while she kept a watch out for the bouncer.

The tighter the bodies pushed up against her, the shallower her breathing became. She’d never been good in tight places. Claustrophobia, her daddy had called it. Her heart pattered against her ribs, and her palms sweat. A moment before Lucky would have passed out, the pretty strawberry blonde wearing a pair of short shorts and red cowboy boots stepped down from the stage.

“Are you all right?” she asked, touching Lucky’s arm.

Her vision graying around the edges, Lucky swayed and didn’t see the bouncer until she grabbed her from behind. “How’d you get in here?” she demanded.

“Greta Sue,” the bar owner said. “She’s not well. Let’s get her out of this crush.”

“I’ll get her out. All the way out of the building. Plenty of air to breathe outside. She didn’t pay the cover charge.”

The strawberry blonde smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll cover for her this time.”

“But, Ms. Anderson, she snuck in somehow. That’s trespassin’.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure she has a good reason.” Ms. Anderson led her to the edge of the jostling crowd and already Lucky could breathe better.

Lucky held her breath as Greta Sue pointed at her, her gaze narrowing, warning her not to make any sudden moves.

The strawberry blonde smiled and held out a hand to Lucky. “I’m Audrey Anderson, owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon. How may I help you?”

Her voice was warm, friendly and so likable it made Lucky want the floor to swallow her whole. Why couldn’t Audrey Anderson have been old, ugly and mean-spirited? Breaking the bad news to this sweet woman made her feel even more of a heel.

Lucky took her hand and shook it, cringing inwardly, at a loss as to how to explain how she’d managed to wreck both her own truck and that of the pretty woman standing in front of her with the friendly smile and the firm handshake.

She cleared her throat and blurted, “I have some bad news.”

Audrey’s brows knit and she stepped closer. “Jackson. Is he all right?”

Lucky frowned. “Who’s Jackson?”

“My boyfriend. I assumed the bad news was about him. Are you telling me it’s not?”

With a shake of her head, Lucky waved her hand toward the doorway. “It’s best I show you.”

Greta Sue gave Lucky the stink-eye. “You hurt one hair on Ms. Anderson’s head…” Audrey Anderson had her share of folks looking out for her. A stab of longing tugged at Lucky’s heart. It would be nice to be loved that much by so many people.

Lucky raised her hands in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Damn right you’re not.” Greta Sue followed them out the door. “I’m coming with you.”

Great. More witnesses to Lucky’s destruction and mortification.

“Tell me what happened.” Audrey walked beside Lucky, her feet moving briskly in the night air, her bright red cowboy boots crunching gravel.

“I stalled out in the parking lot and didn’t have any help moving my truck, so I pushed it. And well…” Lucky stopped where Audrey’s red truck used to be parked.

The strawberry blonde’s brows dipped together. Her gaze moved from the empty spot to glance around the parking lot. “Didn’t I park my truck here? For that matter, I don’t see it anywhere.”

Lucky bit down on her lower lip, touched the Ugly Stick owner’s arm and pointed to the ditch. “It’s in there.”

Audrey stepped up to the edge of the embankment and stared down at the shapes of the two trucks wedged into the ditch at angles. As recognition dawned, she gasped. “That’s my new truck!”

Trent couldn’t believe a girl had bested him. Isaac, Nick and Jackson would all have laughed had they witnessed his humiliation. Strange that the embarrassment and fact that he’d been tricked only made him that much more determined to get that kiss.

No sooner had he been shoved out the door, he turned, caught the door before it closed and stormed back inside, only to see the tall, slender, cool drink of cowgirl water slip into the darkness of the bar. Well, hell. It was Ladies Night and Audrey had given them strict instructions to limit their movements to the employee-only area of the bar or risk being pinched, kissed, squeezed and fondled by a couple hundred horny women.

Trent debated following her, but he’d heard of how Jackson had been stripped to his skivvies once on Ladies Night and he had no desire to be exposed in such a way.

So he didn’t get his kiss. What harm could one more woman add to a room full of raging estrogen?

He returned to the poker game and settled in, his mind on the cowgirl, not his hand. No sooner had Jackson dealt the cards, Nick got a call to tow two trucks.

“Audrey, is that you?” Nick asked.

Jackson frowned. “Trouble?”

“Two trucks in the ditch out front.” Nick tossed his cards on the table and rose. “I’ll be right there.”

“Two trucks?” Trent’s brother, Isaac, asked. “Things must be hoppin’ on Ladies Night.”

“What’s going on? The strippers try to make a run for it?” Trent joked, wondering if the woman he’d let go into the bar had anything to do with the trucks in the ditch. A jab of guilt twisted in his belly. He should have let Audrey know she’d had a trespasser.

“Sorry, guys,” Nick said. “You’re welcome to stay and play, but I’ve got work to do. Seems Audrey’s was one of the trucks that got knocked into the ditch.”

“Audrey’s?” Jackson jumped to his feet. “She wasn’t in it, was she?” Jackson checked his cell phone. “Fuck. I had my ringer off. Audrey’s been tryin’ to get a hold of me. She called three times.” He punched the screen on his phone and held it to his ear.

“No, someone else’s vehicle pushed it into the ditch. Come on. Let’s check it out. I could use a hand getting them out.”

“Maybe we should all go check it out.” Trent tossed his hand onto the table and pushed to his feet.

“I guess we’re all going, since it’s kind of hard to play one-handed poker.” Isaac stood and stretched. “Besides, with a bunch of horny women leaving the Ugly Stick, we might get lucky tonight.”

“I’ve been in the middle of that mob before. Scared the jitters out of me,” Jackson admitted. “Let’s go ‘round the back to the front and find Greta Sue. She can run interference.”

“She can’t guard us all. Frankly, I don’t want her to. I’ll take my chances with the ladies.” Isaac rubbed his hands together. “I could use a little distraction after having my butt kicked at poker.”

“Must be the Jameson luck,” Nick said.

Isaac chuckled. “Remind me not to play poker with Jackson and Nick. I’m completely out of my league here.”

“We both are.” Trent jerked his head toward the door. “Come on.”

Jackson feathered through the handful of bills he collected from the table and stuffed them in his pocket. “You two are more than welcome to come throw money at us anytime.”

Nick headed for his tow truck he’d parked at the rear of the building. Tonight was a full moon. People always got crazy at the full moon. Otherwise, the mechanic would have ridden his motorcycle.

Jackson climbed into the passenger seat of the tow truck’s cab.

Trent and Isaac slowly walked around the building.

“Did you put that ad in the paper for a ranch hand?” Isaac asked.

Trent shook his head. “I put a flyer up at the feed store and here at the Ugly Stick.”

“I took a whack at an ad for the newspaper, we’ll see what we can get. We have more work than we can shake a stick at and no relief until Dusty gets back.”

Dusty, their ranch foreman, was out recuperating from knee replacement after having been thrown one too many times by Thunder, the meanest horse they had.

“Yeah, cattle to round up, horses to train and pastures to cut. Should have hired someone a month ago.”

“Whose idea was it anyway for us to do our own ranchin’? We have the money to pay someone else,” Trent reminded Isaac.

“I can hear Dad’s voice in my head. You’re gettin’ too big for your britches, boy.” Isaac dug his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his boot heels with a deep scowl, just like their father wore when he was delivering a lecture on the sins of laziness. Isaac’s frown turned around and he grinned.

Trent didn’t. Their taciturn father had backhanded him more than once, and he’d sworn never to return to the Triple J Ranch outside of Temptation, Texas. He hadn’t come back until he’d gotten news from his brother that Old John Jameson had died of a heart attack, leaving his two-thousand-acre spread to his boys.

If he’d had his way, Trent would have sold the ranch and given the proceeds to the Wounded Warriors organization or some other worthy cause. But Isaac hadn’t wanted to give it up. He’d felt some sort of connection to the place.

Hell, he’d been their father’s favorite and could do no wrong. The ranch probably held good memories for him.

Now they both lived there and worked the ranch with their own hands. Although Trent had never wanted to keep the ranch, he’d never been closer to his brother, and he was starting to work out his anger toward his father. But it was a struggle to keep the ranch going when he had full-time commitments as an oilrig architect. And the time spent ranching had given him a little more understanding and grudging respect for his late father.

Isaac had insisted they do the work themselves, telling him it would keep them humble when their bank accounts were overflowing and they could have anything they wanted.

Trent wasn’t afraid of hard work, but they needed help to keep the ranch up. The fences alone took all their time, mending and restringing wire to keep the cattle from straying. And the horses needed exercise and training, and the hay needed cutting.

Sure, they had a foreman who ran the place when they were away on business, but even he needed help while they were gone. Now that Dusty was out for several months, they realized just how much he’d had on his plate.

Yeah, they could use an extra pair of hands and the sooner the better.

In the meantime, his younger brother still had great expectations of finding a woman to love.

Not Trent. As a twenty-year-old, he’d thought he was in love with an older woman in her late twenties, only to find out she’d been lying to him, cheating on him with a man who could afford to buy her jewelry and fancy dates.

Since then, he hadn’t trusted a woman and never went past two dates with one, determined to keep them at a distance.

“You gonna help get the trucks out of the ditch?”

“I suppose.” Trent glanced at Isaac. “Go on, see if you can rescue a damsel in distress from the perils of a rowdy Ladies Night at the Ugly Stick. I’m sure one would happily take you home to tuck her into bed.” His thoughts returned to the sandy-blond-haired cowgirl who’d almost busted his nose. Some of his parts, besides his nose, still throbbed at her image seared in his mind.

She hadn’t been the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, but she was definitely intriguing. He wondered if she’d ever found Audrey.

He also wondered if he’d see her again. Used to being chased by women, Trent found the trespasser more than intriguing, considering she was the first woman who hadn’t been too interested in kissing him.

The competitive spirit in him had flagged her as a challenge, one he’d surely overcome and grow bored with once he had caught, kissed and bedded her.