Gypsy Bride

By Lawna Mackie

Free spirited, athletic and absolutely stunning. He stared at the beautiful horse who had captured the audience's attention—then he saw her. Astride the magnificent animal, Avalon Boswell commanded the horse's attention without so much as a bridle or saddle.

 

In the small town of Black Hills, Montana, Park Ranger, Maverick McGregor had not expected Avalon the Romani Gypsy horse rider to capture and control his heart the way she did with her horses.

 

After listening to her tarot card-reading grandmother, Avalon ends up being rescued off the mountain by Maverick—maybe her grandmother had been correct. Avalon is dedicated to the equestrian show An Evening Under the Stars. Night after night she performs effortlessly but time is running out for her. Prearranged marriages were a thing of the past, but her father refused to break her upcoming nuptials.

 

With the risk of losing everything including Maverick, Avalon makes a deal. She has five days to convince her fiancé she is not the woman for him, and then somehow try to convince Maverick he's the only one for her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawna Mackie
• Release date: Dec 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9798201056759

Book preview

1

The ring of Maverick’s cell phone pulled him from his deep slumber. His eyes focused on the neon blue light illuminating the alarm clock.

It’s two o’clock in the frickin’ morning, he groaned.

His bed partner snuggled up against him.

I got it. Maverick yawned and reached for the phone. Another grumble left his lips when he saw the number.

He answered, Hey, Charlie.

Sorry to wake you, Maverick, but we need help. Charlie sounded as groggy as he did. What’s up? Maverick fumbled for the light switch.

You know the Romanian horseback riders who came to town the other day?

Hell, yeah. They brought a caravan with them.

"Well, I just received a call from a frantic father, the organizer behind this…horse show. Seems his star attraction never returned from her ride. It’s his daughter."

Maverick rubbed his eyes then ran his hand through his tousled hair. Charlie was one of the officers with the police force in Black Hills, Montana. He was also in charge of organizing the search and rescue team; a team that in this case would most likely only include himself.

Because she’s on horseback, I thought you’d be the best tracker for the job, Charlie stated.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. I’m on my way. Is the father at the station? Frustration boiled to the surface with his next statement. Why do people wander off when they shouldn’t? He heard Charlie sigh on the other end of the phone, which told him the other guy agreed.

I know. Sorry, man. I’ll have what you need ready.

Maverick looked over at his bed partner, the seven-year-old Australian Shepherd.

He was just about to disconnect the call when he heard Charlie ask, Maverick, are you sure that mountain lion has had her cubs?

Maverick was the Black Hill’s park ranger, a job he loved. He’d spotted the mountain lion up on Crow’s Nest Peak a couple days ago.

Yes, she has.

That’s great, Charlie muttered. Let’s hope the girl didn’t head that way.

Maverick ended the call and stood bending over to grab his worn blue jeans from the floor before pulling them up around his waist and doing up the belt. In one movement he opened the drawer and yanked out a clean white T-shirt, tugging it over his head.

Come on, Badger, we’ve got a missing person to find.

Badger leapt from the bed, wagging his black and white tail. Let’s hope we find her before Sasha does.

2

Black Hills was a small town and most of the residents would be asleep with the exception of a few late-night partiers down at Rough House Saloon. Maverick recognized most of the vehicles parked outside the establishment. It was his two weeks to be on call for the search-and-rescue team, a part-time job he took very seriously. Thankfully the team wasn’t needed often. While he doubted he would have been at the saloon until this time of the morning, he didn’t doubt that he’d probably have been out with friends taking in a cold beer or two after a long hot Saturday of rodeoing.

This year the town counsel had agreed to bring the Gypsy Horse Riders show in at the same time as the rodeo. They hoped more varied entertainment might bring more spectators into Black Hills.

The decision made sense, and the town did seem to be busier than past years, but the size of the festival grounds worried him—how would it accommodate the size of the show? The tents were enormous, and that was putting it mildly. It didn’t leave much room for the trucks and trailers that were arriving daily for the rodeo. Nobody knew what had been going on in the tent for the past week. The equestrian troupe was very secretive. He admitted that it piqued his interest.

He pulled his truck into the parking lot outside the police station. It was still dark, but wouldn’t be for long. Soon the hot August sun would be rising. By the time he saddled Scout and headed out on the trail, there would be enough light. Regardless, Badger would be his eyes.

Charlie came out the front door of the station. A smaller, balding man followed in his footsteps. Maverick stepped from the truck with Badger close on his heels. When the Shepherd saw Charlie he bolted ahead to greet the man with his tail wagging rapidly from side-to-side.

Hey, Badger. Charlie scratched the dog behind the ears. Thanks for coming, Maverick.

No thanks needed, you know it’s what we do.

Maverick, this is Cappi Boswell. It’s his daughter, Avalon, who hasn’t returned.

Maverick reached out to shake the man’s hand.

You can find my daughter? Boswell asked in a heavy Eastern European accent. From the look on his face he was skeptical.

If your daughter is anywhere in these hills, I’ll find her. He hoped she’d be uninjured and alive. He prayed good fortune would be on his side again.

How old are you? Boswell prodded, his eyebrows scrunched and his arms crossed over his chest.

A mixture of emotions caught Maverick off guard. He was twenty-eight, but it was none of the man’s business how old he was.

Charlie jumped in with an answer.

Mr. Boswell, Maverick McGregor and his family have lived here for generations. His mother was from the Native American Lakota band. Trust me when I say nobody knows these parts better than Maverick. And nobody can master these mountains on horseback better than him. He’s also a the Park Ranger for this area.

The man snorted. Avalon can ride better than anyone. She should be back. Something happened. Moonlight and her are precious. Worth more than anyone or anything in this town.

Cappi Boswell’s pompous last sentence made his blood boil. Why would he let his daughter go riding in an unfamiliar place to begin with? But this wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with a grief-stricken parent. He tamped down his rage.

Would you have something she may have worn recently? Maverick asked.

Charlie handed him what appeared to be a bikini top. Made of white leather, it was intricately beaded and did up with fine leather laces. Cotton or any other type of material would have been better than leather for tracking.

He had envisioned a small child lost in the hills, but the garment’s cup size didn’t fit that picture. He felt his heart beat pick up a pace imagining the woman who could wear such a thing.

Clearing his throat, he looked at the father. How old is she? When did she leave and what direction did she take? Did she have anything with her? What was she wearing? You said she’s a confident horsewoman, what kind of mount was she riding?

Boswell let out a deep sigh. Her name is Avalon. Stubborn girl. He shook his head. She should have listened to her father. I told her not to leave the tent, but apparently she did. Avalon prefers to ride alone when she can. She commented on the trails. She left around six o’clock. After our meal. He halted and pointed to the west. Moonlight is a beautiful Arabian. They are inseparable. Avalon is twenty-four. Small but strong. Mr. Boswell pointed to his muscled arms.

Being a quarter horse man, he couldn’t speak much to the Arabian breed. Except that the horses were known to be flighty, high-strung animals, but there wouldn’t be any animal that could stand up to a mountain lion.

We’ll find her, that you can be sure of. He turned on his heel heading back to the truck.

One more thing, the worried father shouted. She has Vixen.

Vixen? Maverick turned back to look at Boswell.

Her fox.

Could anything else possibly shock him tonight? Interesting choice for a companion, Maverick responded.

The fox is her protector. Always dependable—she’s part of the show.

Good to hear. Badger will have no problem picking up that scent.

The man nodded. Maverick opened the truck door and the dog jumped in. Charlie, I’ll be on my way in about twenty minutes.

I hope you don’t mind but I asked for Scout to be saddled. It will save time. Here’s the radio. Charlie handed it to him. Let us know when you find them.

Maverick tossed the garment and radio on the seat and turned the key.

His mind was awhirl. Badger looked at him and whined. I know, fella. It’s all kind of weird, isn’t it?

3

Why had she listened to her grandmother? " Go , she’d said. You must, your destiny waits. " Avalon sat on a small ledge rubbing her sore head looking up at her horse, Moonlight, who stood patiently waiting above her at the edge of the precipice.

This is your fault. She glared at Vixen. The fox whined at her feet. Her furry little companion had decided to take on a snake and when it slithered across the path it startled Moonlight. Avalon had jumped off her horse’s back and, grabbing a long stick, attempted to get rid of the reptile. When it struck out at her she’d stumbled backward and fell down the side of the canyon wall, landing on this small ledge. In the process she’d managed to hit her head. Of all the stupid things she could have done.

It could have been worse. If the ledge hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have survived the fall. She knew Moonlight would never leave her side and Vixen leapt off the edge after her when she fell. Thankfully the fox hadn’t hurt herself.

Reckless couldn’t begin to describe the events that had transpired. She knew better.

Actually this wasn’t your fault, Vixen, it was Grandmother’s fault. She pulled her long black hair over her shoulder and felt the tender lump on the back of her head. Ouch! She could feel the warmth of her blood on her fingers.

The horse neighed. Go for help, Moonlight. In protest, the horse violently swung her head and pawed the ground.

Great! You two are no help. I imagine Papa will have the whole town looking for me soon anyway.

The crisp night air made her shiver. Overhead a million stars twinkled, but off to the east the sun would be rising. She shivered, pulling her legs up to her chest. Vixen moved closer.

She’d already tried to find a way back up but there was absolutely nothing for her to grab. What an idiot she’d been.

She shook her head as she thought of the last conversation she’d had with her nana. Wrapped in deep violet scarves the old woman limped with her cane in hand and said, You must go, little one. Really, well, look where that piece of information had gotten her. Apparently, her dearest fortune-telling, tarot card-reading grandmother had received the wrong message. Avalon was to ride up the mountain and await her destiny. What a bunch of crap.

I just want to go home, she blurted in frustration.

Her head pounded as she leaned forward on her knees and continued to shiver. Perhaps it might have been a better idea to clothe herself differently. She should have worn leggings and a T-shirt. Instead of this halter-top that left her midsection bare but matched her cut-off shorts.

Moonlight’s giant whinny and the sound of stomping feet startled Avalon from her negative thoughts. Vixen stood at alert and gave a tiny growl.

Avalon tilted her head to look up…everything spun but she pushed the dizziness aside. What is it, girl? The horse neighed wildly again, loudly blowing air out her nose. Avalon listened and tried to hear what the animals heard. Off in the distance came a low deep growl.

Oh, goddess, that can’t be what I think it is. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She knew the sound of a wild cat having worked with many animals through the years, and that was definitely a wild cat. Swearing in Romani, her mother tongue, she started yelling, hoping to scare the animal away. Moonlight continued to whinny and paw at the ground.

Off to her left in the distance she saw a faint light. Somebody was on the trail.

Help, she yelled. Here, we’re over here!

She heard the growl again but also a dog’s sharp bark.

The light got bigger, and Vixen growled. She heard a voice, Ms. Boswell?

Yes, she shouted with much more desperation than intended. I’m here!

The sound of hooves got louder, but then so did the cat’s growl. Frantic, the horse cried. It was a cougar, she knew it for certain, and her damned horse refused to leave.

Moonlight, go! Run.

It was too late. She heard the wild cry of the cat.

She screamed in earnest, scratching at the dirt wall, wishing she could climb it.

Now the mystery dog barked furiously, followed by the shouts from the man.

Go on, Sasha, before you get yourself in further trouble. A gunshot rang out through the night sky and she heard the thundering of hooves.

I’m down here! Avalon shouted through her tears. Please, is my horse okay?

Are you hurt, Ms. Boswell?

No…I mean…not badly. She rushed the words. My horse, is she hurt?

I’m not sure, the man said.

A beam of light shone down at her. She lifted her arm to cover her eyes.

She’d never forgive herself—or her grandmother—if Moonlight was seriously injured, or worse. Her desperation had forced her to become unreasonable.

Maverick, angled the flashlight so it didn’t hit her directly in the eyes. He squatted, staring down at the woman and her small fox. The ledge had undoubtedly saved her life.

How badly injured are you?

I’m okay, please just look for my horse. I think that cougar fought with her, Avalon pleaded.

Your horse ran off down the trail, but my first priority is to get you back home safely.

Listen, mister, I hit my head and bruised my arm. I’m not the one who needs help, she said with authority.

While he couldn’t make out her facial features, he could see the shape of her body. Petite like her father had said with a tiny waist, and also strong, he could tell, as she stood with her hands on her hips he could see her toned arms.

Well, from my view way up here, you do need help. My name is Maverick McGregor.

Well, if you won’t find my horse, get me the hell off this ledge, so I can, she demanded.

I’ll do my best. Maverick took off his jacket. Here you must be cold, put this on before you end up with hypothermia. He let the jacket fall down to her.

Just hurry up.

Father like daughter, he muttered quietly so she wouldn’t hear. I’m going to rappel down to get you. I’m just getting my harness on. Is that animal going to bite me?

I guess that depends on how long it takes you to get us back up there.

Ms. Boswell, I assure you I’m going as fast as possible for everyone’s safety.

My name is Avalon, and no, Vixen won’t bite you unless she felt you were a threat to me.

She had long hair that wound its way down past her waist. There was something about the way words rolled off her tongue. She spoke English very well, but the Eastern European accent of her father was there.

With his harness in place and rope secured around a tree trunk he turned to Scout, his quarter horse, and removed the safety pack and put it over his shoulder. She probably had a minor concussion. Next, he placed the skull beam light on his head and reached for the radio.

Charlie, this is Maverick, do you copy?

Got you, Maverick.

Ms. Boswell is alive and well. We should be back at dawn.

Great to hear. I knew you’d find her. Where are you?

Up on the east ridge and too close to Sasha. Badger’s probably still chasing her. See you soon.

Copy that. Be careful.

Over the edge, he peered at the tiny woman. I’m on my way down.

Oh goody. Hurry up. Her petulance surprised the hell out of him.

Bossy didn’t begin to describe her, and