Cowboy’s Unexpected Match: Collier Cowboy Camp, #2

By Leslie North

Taison Butler is stuck in town until he recovers from a rodeo injury. In exchange for the physical therapy he needs to get back in the saddle, Taison agrees to help out his buddy, Remington Collier, a former rodeo rival who now runs the Collier Cowboy Camp. Fully expecting to be working at the camp, Taison is thrown when he's tasked with helping out Remington's cousin, the wonderfully disorganized and distractingly sexy local vet, Emme Lion. 

 

Emme is under pressure to bring her Grandfather's vet practice back to life, and Taison's steady hand is what her business has been missing. But she's been burned before by an ex who kicked her out of the practice she'd built right after he'd dumped her for another woman. Lesson learned — business and pleasure just don't mix. This is her chance at a fresh start, and no blond, blue-eyed cowboy is going to stop that. 

 

If only her traitorous heart would listen…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Feb 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215634387

Book preview

1

Taison Butler drove through the small town of Red Ridge, Colorado, with the windows rolled down. The baking summer heat had him sweating bullets, but it was easier on his leg than the AC. The broken bones were mostly healed, but they ached like a bitch in the cold.

Taison winced as he hit the brakes a little too quickly, jarring his leg. Okay, maybe mostly healed was being generous. He still had a long path of recovery ahead of him. But he had more than enough grit and determination to travel to the end of it. He’d already spent too long sitting on the sidelines. He needed to get back in the ring now. Hell, that’s why he’d taken this chance, driving all the way out here on the hope that his old buddy Remington’s offer would pan out.

At least the town looked nice. Small, but quaint. It reminded him a little of the place where he’d grown up—and Taison stopped that thought right there. Before it could go any further, into something like doubt.

Remington’s place, the Collier Cowboy Camp, was just outside of town—a wide, sprawling place with a two-story ranch house, all red-brown siding, dormer windows, and a long wraparound porch. The place was bustling, with a group of kids heading out on horseback, and what looked like a class clustered around an arena with a mechanical bull and a big electronic scoreboard, both looking fresh and new. As he parked, Taison saw the man in charge glance over; when he saw the truck, he grinned and waved.

Taison! Remington Collier spoke to a young man next to him, then detached himself from the crowd and jogged over. He hadn’t changed much since Taison had last seen him. He was still larger than life, with the bright blue eyes and wide, white smile that featured in any number of articles about the former King of the Rodeo.

Taison was still a little surprised that someone like Remington Collier had taken him under his wing when he’d first started as a rodeo rider. After all, Remington was, well, Remington. He was everything that everyone had expected Taison to be, as the son of the legendary Ty Butler. Which wasn’t to say that Taison was a bad bull rider—he was pretty damn good, if he was honest—but he didn’t have the natural talent of a Joe Lopez or Lucas Meyer…or his father. He certainly hadn’t been at Remington’s level. The best thing Taison had going for him was his work ethic, and the fact that he was a stubborn son of a bitch. Too stubborn to lose, even if he didn’t have the inborn gift that made winning easy. And way too stubborn to quit, no matter what the doctors said about his injuries. He’d get back in the ring, back to winning, no matter what it took.

Remington patted him on the back, a few solid thumps. Wasn’t sure if you’d come.

Taison eased himself out of the truck, maneuvering carefully so he didn’t jostle his leg. Weren’t you? It was a joke. Mostly. They both knew that Remington had a knack for talking anyone into just about anything.

Remington shrugged and gave him an easy grin. Well, I figured your dad might not be happy about you coming out here to recuperate.

He wasn’t thrilled. Which was an understatement, but it was better than getting into the hurt, confused conversation he’d had with his father just before he’d packed up his things and headed out. Back when he’d first tumbled off that bull and busted his leg in three and a half places, his parents had convinced him to come home. But that had been a mistake. It was too hard being back there, as his parents tried to fuss over him. Especially his dad, who’d been trying to keep up a brave front, insisting that this injury was just a setback. Taison had still been in a cast, but the pressure to get back in the saddle—to not disappoint his father any more than he’d already had—had been unbearable.

Truth was, his injury wasn’t just bad. It was life changing. It was the kind of thing that could put you out of the rodeo for good. He wasn’t going to let that happen, of course, but it was a lot easier to believe he could put this injury behind him when he didn’t have to see the worry in his father’s eyes. Getting away had been the only option—and coming here might actually help him get back to where he needed to be. As Remington had explained when he first called, the camps at Collier Ranch weren’t just focusing on giving kids a cowboy experience. They’d turned into a serious rodeo training facility, and part of that was recently hiring a physical therapist with a stellar reputation. A reputation for performing miracles.

Right now, a miracle was what Taison needed. Besides, after Remington had taken him under his wing, Taison had learned to listen to his advice.

How are you doing? You look good. Remington gave him a once-over, grinning. Was the drive out okay?

Taison knew what he was really asking. How’s the leg? It seemed like it was the only thing anyone asked him anymore. He’d left his cane in the truck, mostly out of pride, and it was staying there. Even if his leg was beginning to shake. Not bad. This place looks great, by the way.

Remington beamed with pride. Thanks. Though I can’t take all the credit. Most of it is Melody. You should see how hard she works for this place. It’s kind of hard to slow her down, actually. Ever since the show aired, interest in this place has skyrocketed—but it’s like Melody just keeps finding another gear to get it all done.

Taison nodded. It had been big news when Remington had hung up his crown as rodeo king and come home to take over his late father’s cowboy camp. Public interest in him had been at an all-time high, so it wasn’t really a shock that a media company had brokered a deal, getting Remington to agree to the filming of a documentary of the process of renovating the camp. Some of the guys on the circuit liked to talk trash about how Remington couldn’t stand to be away from the cameras, but Taison figured that was just sour grapes. The truth was, Remington had only agreed because the money from the deal would pay for the renovations, as well as bring the camp some extra publicity. Remington always knew how to get the job done.

Of course, he probably hadn’t planned on the extra bit of drama that had come with the project. Even before the show aired, the buzz about it became intense when the news leaked that the woman who’d been running the camp in Remington’s absence—the woman whose child had inherited half of the ranch—was actually Remington’s former lover…and the kid was his son.

It had been a tough time for Remington, and Taison had done what he could to be there for his friend—but he’d been quite a distance away, first in competition and then in hospitals and rehabilitation after his injury. He was glad to hear that Remington and Melody had found their happy ending, though.

Now, if only there was another one in the cards for him, too…

He desperately wanted to toss back a couple of Advil and sit down. He hated the way his body tired so easily now. It didn’t feel like his own body sometimes, this creaky, aching thing that wouldn’t do what he wanted. Congrats, by the way.

Thanks. Remington grinned, brushing his hair away from his face. So, I know you probably want to get settled and all of that, now that you’re here. But I did want to talk to you. About that favor.

Taison nodded. Right. You mentioned that. Back when he’d first reached out to Taison and suggested he come to the camp. It had been perfect, actually. They were starting up their new physical therapy program, and Taison could be the first person to try it out. He could take his time, heal at his own pace. Stay at the ranch for free, only paying for his therapy. And in his down time, lend Remington a hand with whatever needed to be done, so he wouldn’t feel like a total mooch for the free room. What do you need? Help with the lessons? The horses? Taison glanced at the kids. He could give them a few pointers quickly and then go ice his leg.

Remington shook his head, looking sheepish. Okay, so… Here’s the thing. He gave Taison one of his best I’m-going-to-talk-you-into-this smiles. The thing I need help with—it’s not here at the ranch.

That set Taison back. Where is it?

You can’t be serious, Taison said.

Remington gave him a tight smile. I am.

To his surprise, Remington had taken him to a stately, old-fashioned Victorian house, about a twenty-minute drive from the ranch. It was in the downtown area of Red Ridge, next to a bustling coffee shop and across from a yarn store called Knitting Pretty. He’d noted the gleaming brass sign by the door that read Dr. Lion, Veterinarian. He’d been confused until he’d stepped inside, and then he’d just been horrified.

He was pretty sure it had been an office at one time, before the tornado hit it. Every square inch of table space was being used as a makeshift filing cabinet, and the long reception desk was buried under haphazard stacks of files. Behind the desk, one wall was covered in multicolored Post-Its, nearly floor to ceiling. There were several people waiting with their pets, but a few animals were apparently free range. In particular, the bright red parrot perched on the chair behind the desk that regarded Taison and Remington with one goggling eye. It squawked loud enough that Taison jumped. AWWK! WHO’S A GOOD BOY?

A thunderous bark echoed from one of the back rooms, and an enormous dog head peeked out as it barked happily. Its paws blurred, scrabbling to go greet the new arrivals. A middle-aged woman barely half the size of the dog, struggled to hold onto the dog’s collar. "No, please, stay."

Then there was a voice, low and throaty, with a rasp that sent a zing straight down Taison’s spine. It’s okay, Cora, I’ve got him.

He saw the hair first, the sunset red that was barely restrained into two braids that were twisted and pinned upon the top of her head, Swiss Miss style. She was willow slim, but she snagged the exuberant dog’s collar, holding him in check with one slender, sculpted arm. Not so fast, Gimli. One does not just run out of Mordor. She glanced over, her expression instantly transforming into a wide, warm smile. Oh, hey, Remington.

Hi, Emme. Got a minute? Remington asked.

She glanced at Taison briefly, then nodded. Just give me a second. Gimli here doesn’t want to get his shots. She disappeared into the back room, towing the dog along with her.

Taison turned to his friend. Rem, what is this?

Just hear me out. Remington held up his hands. Emme’s my cousin. She moved back to the area a couple months ago to take over this office after the last vet retired. And we were really lucky to get her.

Good for you. Where do I come in? Taison asked shortly.

She was part of a practice back in Chicago, and now that she’s here, she’s been having some trouble adjusting to running her own office. Clearly. Remington waved a hand to the office. She asked me if I could recommend anyone to lend a hand. He gestured to Taison.

I’m not a vet, Taison protested.

Emme doesn’t need a vet. She needs someone to help her with all this. And—aside from my wife—you’re the most organized person I know. Please, Remington said.

Taison glanced around the office, torn. The sensible part of him was saying he should just bail. That this was not what he signed up for. But the rest of him wanted to roll up his sleeves and start organizing things before his eyes started bleeding from the metric ton of mess surrounding him.

There was a plaintive meow from down by his feet, and Taison felt a soft tug on the leg of his jeans. There was a small black kitten clawing its way up his pant leg. Taison immediately bent down and picked it up. It was so small and fit in the palm of his hand. The kitten regarded him with bright green eyes and meowed again, then started crawling up his arm.

It was fifteen minutes before Remington’s cousin swept out again, helping the other woman tow her massive dog to the front door. Then she turned to them with an exaggerated sigh. Sorry about that. Gimli hates shots. But he loves people. Emerson Lion, she said, holding out a hand to Taison.

Up close he could see that she had a redhead’s porcelain complexion, the kind that probably burned easily. There was a small dance of freckles just across her nose, like fairy dust. And her eyes were extraordinary, large and almond shaped, framed by dark lashes—and they were two different colors. Her left eye was a warm amber brown, while her right was a bright green, almost identical to the cat that had climbed up his sleeve and was now perched on his shoulder.

Remington nudged him, and Taison blinked. He’d been staring—and rather rudely ignoring the introduction. Sorry, he managed. Hi. I’m…um…

This is Taison Butler, Remington finished for him. He’s a friend of mine from the rodeo.

Emme smiled, a quick flash that short-circuited his brain. It’s nice to meet you—

I’ll do it, he blurted out.

Remington’s cousin tilted her head, cocking one dark red brow. Do what?

Help. With the office. Files and stuff. Taison shook his head, trying to form coherent thoughts. I’ll fix it. Taison glanced at Remington. I mean, you clearly need the help. And I’m good at this.

Emme crossed her arms, her oddly compelling eyes going distant. Taison had the sense that he’d screwed up somehow, but he wasn’t sure how. Good at what, exactly?

Getting everything in line. Organizing all that. All this. It’s a mess. Taison gestured around. But don’t worry. I got this.

Emme glanced from him to Remington. Well, we’re going to need to talk about this.

2

It was nearly an hour later when Emme ushered her last patients out of her office, then closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned back.

Remington was still standing there, that same old smile on his face that said he was up to something. What exactly, she wasn’t sure, but it probably had something to do with his hot friend. Taison Butler, he’d said. Remington had mentioned he was coming to visit—something about an injury and wanting to take advantage of Georgia’s new physical therapy practice. What any of that had to do with her, though, she really couldn’t say. She found herself wondering what Remington had told Taison about her, about why they had come to see her. Just what position did this man think he’d be taking here, in her office? She’d wanted to ask earlier, but the discussion she’d planned to have had been interrupted by her next patient, a sweet natured baby goat that was way too fond of eating its owner’s golf balls. There was a break in her schedule now, though, so hopefully they’d finally