Kilted Cowboys

By Jamie Salisbury

Recently widowed, Mary MacLeod finds herself alone in a place she's called home for fifteen years. Rather than crumbling in despair, Martha sells her Montana ranch, deciding to travel. Ending up in Scotland as her older sister Rae had, Martha finds the strength to move her life forward. Never one to do things small, Martha purchases an old, long abandoned Scottish manor house and begins to renovate the old structure.

Enter Edward MacDonald...opinionated, deliciously handsome, and cocky, with a dark past and secrets. He is also titled, something that was never to have been his. Edward is stunned when he finds out the neighboring land and house have been sold to a loud mouthed, know-it-all woman. What he finds when he peels away her harsh exterior is an intelligent, savvy, good hearted woman. One who unexpectedly steals his heart.
Martha finds Edward irritating, arrogant, and charming. Everything her late husband, Tom wasn't. She finds herself at odds with her own feelings...the softer, more feminine ones she develops for this cocky Scotsman.

Oil and water don't mix? Can these two make it happen? Has Edward finally found the one thing in life that's always eluded him? And can Martha learn to love in a way she never thought possible?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamie Salisbury
• Release date: Nov 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310107153

Jamie Salisbury

Writing romance stories with passion and sass, Jamie Salisbury has seen several of her books soar to #1 on Amazon. Her novella, Tudor Rubato was a finalist in the 2012 RONE (Reward of Novel Excellence) awards. The cover won for Best Contemporary Cover. Now in 2014, her novel, Life and Lies was nominated for a RONE in the Erotica category. Her books are both self published and now include several published through Secret Cravings Publishing. Music, traveling and history are among her passions when not writing. Her previous career in public relations in and around the entertainment field has afforded her with a treasure trove of endless story ideas.

Book preview

Kilted Cowboys

by

Jamie Salisbury

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Jamie Salisbury

All Rights Reserved

Dedication

First and foremost to my readers. Without you my work would still be in that box under the bed. Thank you!

There are so many people to thank, and I'm afraid I'll miss someone...To all the warriors (and you know who you are) involved in helping me finally get this book published, my heartfelt thanks. This was a difficult book to write (took over a year and countless revisions) but Martha and Edward finally prevailed, and their story is far from over...

This one's to all of you! Thank you!

Praises for Tartan Deadlines...

... loved this book! Rae is strong, confident and no matter what obstacles get in her way she finds a way to move forward. Rory is not only successful and gorgeous, but he is also down to earth and has a way of seeing Rae for the woman she truly is, not the woman she was. In turn, Rae and Rory forge a bond that is beautiful and steamy. Jamie Salisbury creates two very real characters, the kind of people you would like to sit down with for a glass of wine and a deep conversation.

Tartan Deadlines is not my usual fare, but Salisbury is a magician with words and I was drawn in from the first sentence. The story continues to develop to the very end and I just couldn’t get enough...

...Loved it from the point of view of the older woman, that a love could flourish and remain so strong. A great short read for me, with plenty of emotion and humour...

...Unexpected love found between an older woman and her younger boss leads to many twists and turns. Throw in some family secrets and it's a whirlwind of activity...

Chapter One

Damn Tom! How could he forget the bags of Omolene 500 again? How many times do I have to repeat myself? Damn man!

Tom! Tom! Where the hell's my Omolene 500? If I told you once I told you three times. Do not forget four bags of Omolene 500. Romeo is all but out! What do I have to do? Write it down on your forehead?

Sorry babe. I guess I forgot. Me and the boys got to talkin'… Tom Grant, my pain-in-the-ass husband. We've been together fifteen years or so. Married nine. The last three have been the hardest though.

I can't leave you in charge of anything as simple as going to the feed store.

In charge of gossiping, that's what he was in charge of! Damn men. Never mind. What's done is done. I'll just go back into town myself and get it. I need to pick up a few other things anyway.

I don't mind goin' back.

I just bet you don't. What? So you can gossip some more? No, I'll go. You just unload your truck. I'll be back in a few hours. I turned and made my way to my black F-250. I needed a break.

Yep, that's my life.

We live in Montana, a good piece outside of Billings. I live on a ranch me and Tom purchased about eight years ago. I thought we were going to pay it off, but Tom's drinkin' and gamblin' seemed to take care of that happening anytime soon. Damn man! I love him something fierce, but he can't keep away from the games or the drink. So running the ranch has been my job. I've just started to get it to the point where it's making some money. With the way the economy is…hell paying this off much less anything else is a pipe dream anymore.

It's a long dusty ride into town, about ten miles. I love Montana. It has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. I'm just not a city gal, always felt hemmed in living so close to folks. Out here at least it's still peaceful, tranquil.

Pulling up in front of the feed store, I remind myself that I need a couple of mineral blocks for the cattle. That was my fault. I never thought to ask Tom to get some while he was here earlier.

I walked through the front door. Hmmm…awful quiet for a Thursday afternoon. I wonder where everyone is today. Mike should come popping out of nowhere any second. There he is.

Hi Mike. Tom forgot a couple of items. I need four bags of Omolene 500 and five mineral licks.

Sure thing Martha. He began to write up the ticket, but paused and looked across at me, his aged blue eyes almost a pale sky blue. Um, Martha I hate to bring this up, but I'm gonna need some payment…

Mike, work with me please. Things are tight. I've got a load of cattle going to slaughter next week. I'll take care of you then. I promise.

He shook his head, the edges of his weather worn face curled up in a smile. I know you're good for it Martha. If you could just take care of half of your bill, I'll overlook the rest for another month.

Thanks Mike. I appreciate it.

He passed me the ticket to sign. I scrawled my signature on the bottom and thrust the ticket back at him. Mike gave back one of the copies. I waved it in the air.

Thanks again Mike! I'll see you next week, I promise.

I stepped up into the filthy, dirt encrusted truck cab and started the engine. I headed towards the loading dock. I shook my head. John, Mike's young grandson had everything waiting on the dock. Load 'em up, head 'em out.

Geez I need to stop and get something to eat before I head back home. I don't have time. Perhaps the 7-11 has something quick. Something.

I pulled into the parking lot. This was the place to go. Last stop before the trip home. I grabbed my wallet and headed inside. A large bottle of water and a bag of chips would hold me. I remembered the pot roast cooking in the crock pot at home. Sighing, I put the chips back, and grabbed an apple instead.

Climbing back into the truck I headed towards home. Something was going to have to happen this year. Something big or else we'd lose the farm and everything we'd worked so hard for. I didn't know what else I could do. Train horses. I was good at it. I did have a degree in British history, but in this economy who'd want to hire an untrained, long out of school, nearing middle-age lady. No the hay, hops and barley along with the cattle were going to have to pull their weight this year. I certainly wasn't going to ask any of my sisters for a loan. It wasn't as though they couldn't afford it. Nope if I didn't make it this year, I'd start looking for something else.

I backed the truck into the aisle of the barn. Tom appeared out of nowhere and began to lift the mineral licks out of the truck bed while I toted my third fifty pound bag of feed off the truck. Depositing it in the feed room on top of the others I'd just brought in, I heard Romeo nicker in the background. He knew what it was and what time it was; getting close to his dinner time.

Romeo was a Thoroughbred Arabian cross I'd had since he was a weanling. I spent the past two years training him as an endurance horse. I had great plans for the two of us, but plans took money and right now we had very little of that. More dreams than cash. Regardless, I would continue with our training. Romeo was good, damn good, and together I knew we'd go far.

Chapter Two

Two weeks later

Pulling up in front of the house I couldn't help but notice the fact that no lights were on. Seeing Tom's truck meant one of two things. He was either passed out drunk in the house or his workshop.

I backed up and drove past the building he tinkered in. No lights. Moving on to the barn, I noticed no lights. Unusual because we normally kept a light on in the aisle until we did a final check. A sliver of a moon peeping through the clouds. The black inky darkness around me...well it made even someone as tough as me shiver. If it were any other time of year I'd say it was ghostly. Spooky.

I got out and walked into the barn. Immediately I knew they hadn't been fed. Rather than hearing the peaceful sound of them munching on their hay, I was greeted by snorts and hooves digging into the ground. What the hell was going on? Turning on the lights I walked into where the hay was stored and set a bale on a cart.

What distracted him? This wasn't like him. In spite of his drinking, he always made sure the livestock were taken care of first. He and I were certainly going to have words about this. His drinking had been becoming a liability the past year in particular. He'd brought us down this far, and I'd be damned if he was going to ruin what I'd worked my butt off to regain.

I rolled the cart out into the hall and began throwing large flakes of alfalfa mix hay to each hungry and eagerly waiting horse. Reaching Romeo's door, I cocked my head. Odd, he was one of the greediest when it came to his food. Not like him to not have his head hanging over demanding like he did.

Opening the door to his stall, I was dumbfounded to find it empty. What the hell was going on here? I ran out to call him, in case, for whatever odd reason, Tom had decided to put him out for the night. He didn't come, and if he hadn't gotten his feed ration, he would have been at the pasture fence waiting.

Pulling up in front of the house, I instinctively pulled out the thirty-eight I kept under the front seat. Better safe than sorry. I quietly approached the front door, slowly opening it.

Tom?

No answer. I felt my way to the light switch and flipped it. I stepped into the living room and gasped. Tom sat, drenched in blood, his eyes open, but vacant. Two entry points from what I could see from where I stood. One in the chest, another to the head. Right in the forehead. His hands rested at his sides.

I turned and fled out of the house, gagging. After the retching subsided, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. Come on, come on. Don't fail me now. Getting no signal, on shaky legs I bolted toward the barn. The landline we’d kept on.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm myself I addressed the person answering on the other end. I want to report a murder.

I gave them the address, along with my name. I hung up. I walked over and turned on the hose in the wash rack, running cool water over my face. In a daze I walked back to my truck to wait. Letting down the tailgate I sat, waiting. My eyes burned with tears thinking about the horrific sight I'd just witnessed.

It didn't take too long before two cars, lights flashing came screaming down the drive from the main road. They pulled up in front of the house, two officers getting out of each vehicle. The one closest to me carried the sheriff, Thad Jenkins.

Evening, Ms. Grant, he spoke softly. "I got a call there's been a murder? He walked nearer, as though he thought he could intimidate me.

I nodded my head, and motioned with my head towards the front door. Yes. My husband Tom. You'll find him inside on the sofa.

He nodded, and turned toward the porch, motioning to one of the deputies. Bill, why don't you stay here with Mrs. Grant? Get her side to what went on here tonight?

Yes, sir.

Thad Jenkins and his remaining deputies disappeared into the house, leaving me with one Bill Fry.

Mrs. Grant, care to tell me what happened.

What happened was I came home from town, found no lights on anywhere.

Which is important?

Deputy, when it's dark, don't you usually turn on lights in your house or wherever you may be? The house was dark, the barn was dark. We always leave a light on in the aisle of the barn until we do a final check.

But it wasn't on?

He was trying to trip me up. Why? No, isn't that what I just said? There wasn't the first light on in the barn or the house.

Anything else?

Yes. The horses hadn't been fed and one of my horses is missing.

One of your horses is missing, he repeated, as he scribbled down notes.

Yes, Romeo.

Just about that time the sheriff and one of his men came through the door, and towards us.

I just called for detectives, and the coroner, he said eyeing me darkly. What do you have, Bill?

The deputy played back our conversation almost word by word. All the time, the sheriff was watching me. I didn't have to look, I could feel those eyes on me.

Mrs. Grant...

Martha, please Sheriff. We've known each other for what ten years? I think we're past the formalities.

Martha, do you have any weapons. Did Tom have rifles, handguns?

I picked up my thirty-eight which had been sitting at my side this whole time. Of course we have guns, Thad. We live in Montana for god's sake. This is mine. I have a concealed weapons permit for it. Inside you'll find four rifles, two shotguns, and an antique luger of Tom's. Oh, and he has a forty-four. He usually kept it in his truck under the seat.

He motioned to the other deputy, who picked up my revolver, emptied it and took a whiff off the barrel. Were they serious? Was I a suspect?

Hasn't been fired recently, Sheriff.

Of course it hasn't, I snarled.

Martha, would you mind showing me your other weapons, please?

Of course. I jumped down off the tailgate and proceeded into the house. He followed closely. Too close.

Inside, I tried not to look at Tom. Walking to one corner I opened a closet door, dialed the combination to the gun safe and opened the door. I spotted everything was there before I stepped aside.

This is everything?

Except for Tom's revolver, it is.

He picked up each of the guns, checking them out. Putting the final one back, he closed the door, without letting it lock.

Sheriff, the coroner is here, along with a couple of deputies and such, Bill said, looking from me to the safe.

Good.

Another deputy came in the room, followed by three men. He was also holding Tom's hand gun. What was this?

Here's the deceased's gun, sheriff. Hasn't been fired.

Good.

I was feeling weak, needed to sit down. Sheriff, do you mind if I go sit in the kitchen?

No, that's probably a good idea. Or even better, why don't you sit outside. The team may need to dust the kitchen as well.

I nodded and proceeded out the front door and to my tailgate to wait. In my wildest imagination I couldn't believe this was happening to me. This is the sort of stuff you saw on TV or read in detective stories.

As I sat there I felt the tears begin to stream down my face. What the hell else could go wrong?

Finally, the sheriff walked back outside, walking towards me.

My deputy tells me one of your horses is missing?

Yes.

Notice anything else missing?

Shaking my head, I looked at him. No, and quite frankly I didn't take the time to look.

Coroner says it looks like a 9mm was used to shoot Tom.

That's an unusual gun for these parts, isn't it?

No, he replied, shaking his head. It isn't I'm afraid. A lot of kooks out there. A lot of mean men. Did Tom have any enemies? Owe anybody?

Not that I'm aware of, sheriff. I know you know he had a gambling problem. No telling who he might owe.

I know, and I know he had a problem with drinking too. And call me Thad, Martha. He said softly. He dug around in his pocket, taking out a card. He passed it to me. If you think of anything, anything at all, call this man. I'll introduce you in a moment. Or if you're not comfortable with him I'll see to it your information gets passed on.

I accepted the card, looking at him, nodding my head. Thank you. Now what?

Well, I think you've been pretty forthright with me tonight. You'll need to come in and give a formal statement, but that can wait until tomorrow.

Okay.

What about Tom's family?

His parents are gone. He has a sister, but it's been a couple years since he spoke with her. I'm not even sure the number I have is the correct one.

Would you like me to call for you?

No, I'll take care of it. Thank you.

Is there anyone you can stay with tonight, Martha? I can't let you back in the house. It's a crime scene until the detectives deem otherwise.

Can I at least get a change of clothes and stuff? I'll sleep down at the barn. There's a cot down there. I keep it in case one of the horses is sick.

Let me talk with the lead detective and see.

Just about that instant, a man in his mid-forties walked up, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Yep, that was a detective. I could tell just by his swagger.

I'll accompany you into the house, let you pack a bag. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I think, however it would be better if you stayed at a hotel or with a friend, at least for tonight. I don't like the idea of a woman being alone out here tonight. Not after what's taken place here.

I picked up my thirty-eight. I think I'll be just fine.

Martha, detective Smith is right. You don't need to be here tonight.

Come, the detective said. I'll escort you to your bedroom. Just be careful as you enter. The house is a crime scene.

Nodding I followed the tall muscular man inside, to the bedroom Tom and I had shared. I set my gun down on the dresser, and went to the closet for a duffel bag. He watched as I packed a change of clothes and other items.

Can I ask you something?

Of course. You're going to do it whether I say yes or no.

What was your husband's and your financial situation? It's common knowledge your husband had a drinking and gambling problem.

We were struggling, okay? We came close to losing this place on more than one occasion.

And?

I took over our finances, the running of the ranch. If Tom needed money, he had to ask. That was our agreement. I kept little money in our joint account.

How did you live?

Everything was put into the ranch account. I took out enough each month to pay our personal bills, and stuff.

I understand one of your horses is missing?

Missing? Yeah, like someone stole him.

Is he worth a lot of money, where someone would want to steal him?

"Yes,