Cowboy Sanctuary

      Elle James

      

      This book is dedicated to my fellow authors in the

       BODYGUARDS UNLIMITED, DENVER, CO series who helped provide inspiration and the glue to stick this project together. And to the amazing editors, Sean Mackiewicz and Allison Lyons, who dreamed up the story line and who invited me to be a part of the project, thank you.

      Special thanks and acknowledgment

       are given to Elle James for her contribution to the BODYGUARDS UNLIMITED, DENVER, CO miniseries.

      Contents

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Prologue

      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

      Epilogue

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Cameron Morgan—The black sheep of the Morgan family and bodyguard for Prescott Personal Securities returns to his home to convince his family and their feuding neighbors they are in danger.

      Jennie Ward—Once in love with Cameron despite their two families’ differences, she refused to leave her father and the ranch when Cameron left ten years ago. How can she protect her heart from the danger of falling in love again?

      Evangeline Prescott—The owner of Prescott Personal Securities who assigns Cameron to help the ranch owners.

      Tom Morgan—Owner of the Bar M Ranch and Cameron’s stubborn father. Will he ever forgive his son for loving the enemy’s daughter?

      Logan Morgan—Cameron’s moody brother. Why is he still so angry at Cameron?

      Brad Carter—Hired hand on the Morgan ranch. Is he there to only help himself?

      Hank Ward—Owner of the Flying W and Jennie’s father. Will the attempts on his life leave Jennie to run the ranch on her own?

      Vance Franklin—Jennie’s husband who died eight years ago.

      Doug Sweeney—Hank Ward’s longtime ranch hand.

      Stan Keller—The Flying W ranch foreman and Hank Ward’s old friend.

      Rudy Toler—The youngest ranch hand on the Flying W.

      Prologue

      Jennie Ward fought to stay in the saddle as Lady bucked beneath her like a green filly on her first ride. What was wrong with her? The eight-year-old mare hadn’t behaved like this since she saw that six-foot diamond-back rattlesnake two years ago.

      No matter how accomplished a rider, Jennie knew she wouldn’t last long at the rate Lady was jerking her around. She had to get off or be thrown off.

      Clutching the saddle horn for balance, she decided that on the count of three, she’d jump. One…two…Jennie kicked her feet free of the stirrups…three! As Lady hit the ground in a bone-jarring, stiff-legged bounce, Jennie shoved against the saddle, launching herself into the air and as far away from the frantic horse as she could manage.

      She landed on her hands and knees, rocks gouging her kneecaps, tearing through her denim jeans. Her head banged against the ground, and her vision blurred for a split second. She couldn’t pass out. Not here. Not with a thousand-pound quarter horse thrashing around her. She tucked her arms and legs close to her body and rolled to the side to avoid the horse’s hooves. As soon as she was clear, she scrambled to her feet and scurried behind a tree.

      Lady tossed around for another minute before she halted in the middle of the field, flanks lathered and quivering.

      When Jennie approached, the horse’s eyes rolled and she backed away, whinnying a warning.

      Jennie cast a quick glance around at the ground. She couldn’t see a snake, varmint or anything resembling one. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” She eased forward, speaking in a soft crooning voice, holding her hand out for the mare to sniff. When she stood close enough, she snagged the reins and patted the mare’s neck. “It’s okay. Shhhhh. I won’t hurt you, baby.”

      The dusky black mare danced in a semicircle straining against the hold Jennie had on the reins. After the horse quieted, Jennie eased alongside her and ran her hand down the horse’s legs, searching for signs of injury.

      The horse’s legs appeared to be fine. When Jennie bent to lift the back left leg to examine Lady’s hoof, something warm and wet dripped across her temple. Reaching up, she brushed the moisture from her face with her hand. She glanced down at her fingers where bright red liquid stood out against the light gray of her work gloves.

      Blood? Had she cut her head when she fell? She yanked the gloves from her hands, reached up to where she’d hit her head and found a small lump the size of a quarter against her hairline. When she brought her hand down, there was no blood.

      Then she looked at the horse. Blood soaked the multicolored saddle blanket and dripped to the ground below. “Holy smokes, Lady. What the hell happened?”

      Jennie led the horse to the nearest tree, tied her up, giving her very little slack from her head to the tree. Skimming her fingers along the horse’s neck, she worked her hands over to the saddle, the source of the horse’s obvious pain.

      What was causing the bleeding? Lady had been fine when she’d saddled up less than fifteen minutes earlier.

      She laid the stirrup gently over the top of the saddle, talking to the horse the entire time. With one hand she loosened the cinch strap and pulled it free. Using as much care as she could muster, Jennie eased the saddle from the horse’s back, lifting it straight up and off. Lady leaned hard against the reins, swinging her backside away from Jennie and the saddle.

      The sheepskin lining on the underside of the saddle was soaked in blood as was the blanket still on the horse’s back.

      When Jennie lifted the blanket, Lady whimpered, her ears laid back and her withers twitched. Jutting out of the middle of a bloody patch was the metal corner of a razor blade.

      “Oh my God.” No wonder Lady tried to throw her. The entire time she’d been riding, the razor dug deeper into the horse’s flesh. Lady’s back was clean when she’d tossed the blanket over her in the barn.

      Jennie raised the blanket and found a cut in the middle where the razor had sliced through. An inspection of the saddle revealed another cut buried in the sheepskin underside.

      They didn’t use razor blades in the barn and none of the ranch hands shaved anywhere near the horses.

      Then how the hell did the blade end up in her saddle?

      Leaving the saddle and blanket on the ground, Jennie untied Lady and led her back toward the barn. She’d return later for the saddle and blanket. First, she needed to tend to her horse’s