Riding Against the Wind

By KC Kendricks

A Saturday night out goes sideways when Zane Walker discovers a naked man hiding in the weeds along the side of the road on his way home. Zane doesn't know how the guy got there, but it's obvious help is needed. Zane takes him to the Bar RC Ranch, confident his foreman will know what to do.

 

Weston Allen doesn't remember much, especially how he ended up along an empty stretch of highway in the middle of the night. When a pickup stops and the driver offers help, he's not at all sure it's a good idea, but he gets in the truck with the stranger not knowing if he'll be left worse off than before.

 

Weston's journey through a dark tunnel isn't easy, but Zane is a light to lead him back to a new life he never knew he wanted with a cowboy at his side.

____ ____ ____

Riding Against the Wind is the sequel to Ride Your Luck. 

This modern-day cowboy romance may contain triggers for some individuals. It is intended for mature readers.

____ ____ ____ 

"Okay, then." He swung me up into his arms as if I was no more than a rag doll and carried me to his truck. I knew then he was too strong for me to fight against and win.

 

He guided my hand to the bedrail on the pickup as he carefully set me back on my bare feet. "You just hold on tight to that for a second while I get the blanket from behind the seat. We wouldn't want Mrs. Caver to be out early and spy your bare ass, or more, now would we?"

 

I didn't care who saw me in this condition at this point, but I murmured the correct reply. "No."

 

He spread the blanket over the passenger seat and got a firm grip on my elbow. "See if you can get a foot on the running board and push up to get on the blanket. Now, if I give your butt a shove, don't take offense. I'm just trying to give you a boost."

 

I started to shake. I'd be confined in the pickup with him, a total stranger. Was his kindness merely a ruse? My knees threatened to buckle but he caught me before I could hit the ground.

 

"Come on, brother. You can do this. At the end of this trail are a bathtub full of hot water, a soft bed, food, and coffee. Yep. Coffee. Nectar of the gods. And once Cookie gets a look at you, I bet a big plate of flapjacks will land on the table in front of you. All you need to do is get in the rig so I can drive us home. You good?"

I so badly wanted to believe him. What if he was telling the truth? Was it possible he would take me to safety?

 

Taking a deep breath, I mustered every ounce of strength I had left to pull myself up into the cab of the truck and collapse against the seat.

 

"There we are. Good job." He reached over me and pulled the blanket around my lap, then folded the other edge over the top. "That should keep your boy bits safe from prying eyes until we get you to the ranch, and start to get you warm. We'll have to see where Mr. Carver says you'll go."

 

Panic beat at me, my voice was so weak and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. "Go? Go where?"

 

He patted my thigh. "The ranch house or the bunkhouse. Now you sit still."

 

With that, he closed the truck door and trotted around to the driver's seat. Within seconds, the pickup's engine ground out a steady purr as he accelerated back onto the highway.

 

"You're lucky I spotted you, cowboy. How'd you end up out here in the middle of nowhere buck naked? Did you have the date from hell, or what?"

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Deer Enterprises/White Deer Books
• Release date: Sep 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215508541

KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks calls herself an accidental writer. After completing her first novel writing as Rayne Forrest, she was urged to submit it to a publisher, and everything snowballed from there. Today, the author has had over seventy books published. In July of 2021, she tried to retire but her employer offered her a deal to work at home. She accepted. Now she balances work, writing, and hearth and home in a controlled chaos. A native of scenic western Maryland, the author enjoys most activities that don’t include snow. In warm weather she might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies in her garden for the deer to munch on at night, playing in the creek, or lazing on the patio with her Kindle reader or laptop. She recently began to research her family history and can't drive past a cemetery without stopping to search for family sites. Her mission is to photograph old tombstones before the elements erode the stones and the names are lost to time. For more about KC Kendricks and Rayne Forrest’s writing life, please visit the Between the Keys blog at http:kckendricks.blogspot.com . If you’d like to know more about the author’s country lifestyle and her daily activities full of simple country pleasures (and a lot of work), please visit the Holly Tree Manor blog at http://hollytreemanor.blogspot.com . KC can be reached through her blog, Between the Keys. All comments are strictly moderated by the author and personal messages are treated as such. Follow the author on Twitter for up-to-date announcements at Twitter.com/KCKendricks.

Book preview

Riding Against the Wind

by

KC Kendricks

––––––––

This book is a work of fiction. While references to actual places or events may occur, the names, characters, incidents, and locations are from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is coincidental.

KC Kendricks

Copyright © 2022 KC Kendricks

Cover art © 2022 KC Kendricks

Thank you for purchasing a legal copy of this work.

All rights reserved.

Reproduction of this digital e-book for file-sharing or selling, regardless of whether any type of currency is exchanged, other than what the author grants in writing, other than brief excerpts for professional review, is strictly prohibited by law. Piracy is a crime.

––––––––

Published in the United States of America.

About Riding Against the Wind

A Saturday night out goes sideways when Zane Walker discovers a naked man hiding in the weeds along the side of the road on his way home. Zane doesn’t know how the guy got there, but it’s obvious help is needed. Zane takes him to the Bar RC Ranch, confident his foreman will know what to do.

Weston Allen doesn’t remember much, especially how he ended up along an empty stretch of highway in the middle of the night. When a pickup stops and the driver offers help, he’s not at all sure it’s a good idea, but he gets in the truck with the stranger not knowing if he’ll be left worse off than before.

Weston’s journey through a dark tunnel isn’t easy, but Zane is a light to lead him back to a new life he never knew he wanted with a cowboy at his side.

––––––––

This modern-day cowboy romance may contain triggers for some individuals. It is intended for mature readers.

Table of Contents

Riding Against the Wind

About Riding Against the Wind

Prologue

Chapter 1 - Weston

Chapter 2 - Weston

Chapter 3 - Zane

Chapter 4 - Weston

Chapter 5 - Zane

Chapter 6 - Weston

Chapter 7 – Zane

Chapter 8 - Weston

Chapter 9 - Zane

Chapter 10 – Weston

Chapter 11 - Zane

Chapter 12 - Weston

Chapter 13 – Zane

Chapter 14 – Weston

Chapter 15 – Zane

Chapter 16 – Weston

Chapter 17/Epilogue – Weston

Books by KC Kendricks

About the Author

A bonus read from Ride Your Luck

Dear Readers,

Prologue

At the artesian spring on the Bar RC Ranch

Regan and Wythe from Ride Your Luck

Regan loved Sunday mornings best of all, not because he was a religious man but because Sunday mornings were full of fresh air, blue skies, breakfast cooked over a campfire, and waking up inside a sleeping bag with his arms around his lover. Wythe stirred, always slow to rise out of sleep when they slept out under the stars.

Regan hugged him tighter, wanting to prolong their quiet dawn cuddle in the seductive warmth of their cocoon. Shhh. Go back to sleep, babe. It’s barely daybreak.

Wythe groaned and stretched, his toes curling against the top of Regan’s feet. His lips tickled Regan’s ear as he spoke. You’re awake. Let me get a cup of coffee in me and we can go for round three.

Regan chuckled softly. I bet it’s only fifty degrees right now. If you think I’m letting my bare ass hang out long enough for any loving, you’re wrong for the first time today.

Pansy. Wythe stretched again. I thought outdoor sex was the reason we come out here on Saturday nights and you put the kibosh on it.

Regan kissed Wythe’s bristly cheek and unzipped his side of the sleeping bag. They always zipped two together to form a perfect nest of snuggly comfort on chilly nights. In the heat of summer, they had spread one out beneath them and taken cover in a tent to thwart flying insects.  This morning was a gentle reminder that autumn was coming.

He carefully got to his feet, mindful of the way his joints moved first thing in the morning. His years on the rodeo had not been kind to his body. Well, that and the years spent imbibing entirely too much alcohol. Thank God he’d left all that behind before coming to the Bar RC Ranch. If he hadn’t accepted John and Claire Carver’s plea to help them on the ranch, he’d never have met Wythe.

Falling in love with John’s son had not been part of the plan but here they were, and with John’s blessing, too. It had been the best six months of his life and he and Wythe were solid.

Regan ducked behind a tree to water the grass in the time-honored way of cowpokes and country boys everywhere. Wythe joined him about the time he finished. That morning necessity handled, Regan carefully walked to the fire ring, mindful of any hot embers that may have escaped to lurk in the sandy soil. Parading around naked on the range called for caution. He eased down on a large rock and rummaged in their pack to find the ground coffee. Wythe emptied the dregs from last night out and refilled the pot from the jug they’d filled at the spring yesterday while Regan stirred the coals and tossed some dry kindling on top of them. Within minutes the fire was hot and the old percolator-style coffee pot was doing its thing.

Wythe had gotten his jeans on and was in the process of shaking out his shirt when he paused and froze.

Regan. There’s a rider coming, fast.

He hot-footed it over to the sleeping bag and pulled on his underwear and jeans. He yanked them up just in time to recognize Hudson, one of the newer ranch hands.

What the hell was wrong that the kid had to run a horse flat-out like that? Hudson loved horses and was good with them. That’s why he’d been hired. Unease settled in his gut.

Wythe was at his shoulder, his lips set in a grim line. There’s no way that’s good news headed our way. You cover the fire and I’ll get Argo and Shorty saddled.

Regan nodded.

Chapter 1 - Weston

It was dark but I didn’t know if that was due to it being night or if I was still lying in the backseat of a pickup under a blanket. I was cold, but that was nothing new. I’d learned to deal with cold a long time ago. I closed my eyes and braced myself against the pain of taking a deep breath. It hurt, but not taking that breath might have hurt worse in the long run.

The air smelled earthy and clean, different.

I was thirsty, but that was something else I’d learned to live with. Living was, after all, my main goal.

My back ached with a fierce burn that burrowed deep along my spine. I’d learned to be very careful when I stretched, moving small muscles first to test the limit of pain and constraints.

My hands were not bound.

Nor were my feet.

I was also very naked.

I struggled to prop up on my left elbow and focus on my surroundings. It was too dark to see much, but the sky was full of stars. Was I dreaming? Hallucinating? Panic sent my heart racing.

Was it real? Was I outside? Had I somehow escaped?

Hope could kill a man.

My head throbbed to the point of making me nauseous. I cautiously ran my fingers through my hair and discovered a very large and very tender knot. It was logical to believe I’d hit my head pretty hard somehow.

I carefully eased down to lie flat on my back and stare up at the spinning stars. I knew they weren’t moving like that. I closed my eyes and suddenly I was spinning. That was merely sensation. My thoughts became clearer with every breath. How much did I have to drink last night? Had someone slipped a roofie into my drink?

I folded my hands over my bare stomach and focused on breathing. Inhale until my ribs protested, exhale, and then go as limp as possible. Then draw the air in again, feeling my lungs expand. Breathe out. I couldn’t waste the energy it would take to be sick, or risk losing extra fluids.

My mouth tasted like bilgewater. I had to have been drugged again, but why this time?

The sickening spinning slowed and stopped as I focused inward, taking an internal inventory of injuries and then carefully flexing each protesting limb. I was alive and other than a few new aches and pains, I didn’t seem to be too damaged, at least at this moment.

I opened my eyes again and discovered it was almost dawn. Had I slept? I must have blinked out, which was preferable to throwing up. At least my stomach was no longer rebelling.

I stared at the sky, searching for the North Star, but the sky had lightened and most of the stars had faded from view. To my right, I saw a pale strip of golden-pink light along the horizon. Where the hell was I?

The sound of an approaching vehicle caught my attention. I started to shake, torn between the need to hide from strangers in general, and trying to find rescue.

I rolled over and struggled to kneel. A stone ground painfully into my right kneecap. I flinched and arms flailing, toppled over. The vehicle was close enough for me to see it was a full-size pickup, a silver rig, with black decals and a rack of spotlights above the cab. The tires squealed as the driver slammed on the brakes to execute a rapid yet controlled stop.

My heart pounded with fear as my vision blackened. I staggered to my feet and tried to run but I’d been captured. Strong arms held me against a too-solid frame.  

Don’t hurt me again! I tried to land a knee to his groin hoping he’d release me and I could flee. He was strong and blocked my move with ease. His voice was softer than I expected, considering I’d just attempted to de-ball him.

Whoa. Whoa, friend. I’m not going to hurt you.

His grip tightened as I ceased to fight and went limp. "Please. Please. I can’t take anymore. Just tell me what you want from me!"

His strength kept me from sliding bonelessly to the cold ground again. Easy. Be easy, brother. I won’t hurt you. I want to help. I need to get you to the ranch and let Cookie look you over in case you need a doctor. Will you come with me now?

Did I have a choice? My legs were about to give out on me. If I could barely stand, I couldn’t run. He’d captured me and I had to find a way to make sure he didn’t hurt me. I went limp against him.

I’ll go with you, I replied, meekly. After all, my choices were limited.

Okay, then. He swung me up into his arms as if I was no more than a rag doll and carried me to his truck. I knew then he was too strong for me to fight against and win.

He guided my hand to the bedrail on the pickup as he carefully set me back on my bare feet. You just hold on tight to that for a second while I get the blanket from behind the seat. We wouldn’t want Mrs. Caver to be out early and spy your bare ass, or more, now would we?

I didn’t care who saw me in this condition at this point, but I murmured the correct reply. No.

He spread the blanket over the passenger seat and got a firm grip on my elbow. See if you can get a foot on the running board and push up to get on the blanket. Now, if I give your butt a shove, don’t take offense. I’m just trying to give you a boost.

I started to shake. I’d be confined in the pickup with him, a total stranger. Was his kindness merely a ruse? My knees threatened to buckle but he caught me before I could hit the ground.

"Come on, brother. You can do this. At the end of this trail are a bathtub full of hot water, a soft bed, food, and coffee. Yep. Coffee. Nectar of the gods. And once Cookie