A Cowboy's Pride Read online

  Old wounds run deep

  Only the truth can heal them...

  Rancher Cole Loveland has no interest in dredging up the past, but his ex-fiancée, Katlynn Brennon, has other plans. To save her struggling TV show, she’s come back to Colorado to investigate the infamous Cade-Loveland feud. Trusting Katlynn again isn’t easy—she’s already chosen her career over Cole once. But he’s beginning to realize that true love, like legends, never dies.

  “I see the way you’ve been looking at Katie-Lynn.”

  “What way’s that?”

  “Like you’ve still got feelings for her.”

  “Dead wrong.” Cole raised his bottle for a drink to shield his expression. Travis was as sharp-eyed as a hawk, reading people and situations in an instant. A good trait for a sheriff. Not so good in a brother when you were hiding something...

  “I hope so,” Travis said. “Just remember what happened after she left you.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “Except you disappearing for three months.”

  “I was driving cattle.”

  “Sleeping out on the range, never coming home...”

  Cole drained the last of his dark malt and handed it to a passing waitress. “Are we done here, Sheriff?”

  Travis pinned him with a steady, hard look before nodding. “You’re free to go...with a warning.”

  “Which is?”

  “Don’t repeat a mistake you already learned from. Anyone messes up once. Doing it twice is just plain stupid.”

  Dear Reader,

  Have you ever wished you were part of a fictional family? Growing up, my sisters and I would call, “Good night, Jim Bob. Night, Mary Ellen,” like the Waltons, and we’d braid each other’s hair like the Ingalls sisters. The Cades and the Lovelands in my Rocky Mountain Cowboys series embody what I love most about family: love, togetherness and support...a shoulder to cry on, a forever friend, the person who always has your back, who knows you better than anyone else and loves you no matter what.

  In this fourth book, these feuding families are about to be united on the eve of their parents’ wedding. Their temporary truce, however, is threatened when TV show host Katlynn Brennon returns to her hometown and enlists the aid of her ex, Cole Loveland, to solve the scandalous mystery surrounding the kidnapping, murder and priceless jewel theft that began the feud over a hundred years ago. She needs to face her difficult past to score high ratings to save her show. Cole needs to keep the woman who once broke his heart from destroying his father’s happiness. If they dig deep enough, they might just resolve their own history along the way...

  I hope this story captivates you and keeps you turning pages. Stay tuned for Jewel Cade and Heath Loveland’s love story, coming soon in 2019!

  Until then, with love and thanks,

  Karen Rock

  A Cowboy’s Pride

  Karen Rock

  Award-winning author Karen Rock is both sweet and spicy—at least when it comes to her writing! The author of both YA and adult contemporary books writes sexy suspense novels and small-town romances for Harlequin and Kensington Publishing. A strong believer in Happily-Ever-After, Karen loves creating unforgettable stories that leave her readers with a smile. When she’s not writing, Karen is an avid reader who also loves cooking her grandmother’s Italian recipes, baking and having the Adirondack Park wilderness as her backyard, where she lives with her husband, daughter, dog and cat, who keep her life interesting and complete. Learn more about her at karenrock.com or follow her on Twitter, @karenrock5.

  Books by Karen Rock

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  Falling for a Rancher

  Christmas at Cade Ranch

  A Cowboy to Keep

  Under an Adirondack Sky

  His Kind of Cowgirl

  A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

  “Thankful for You”

  Winter Wedding Bells

  “The Kiss”

  Raising the Stakes

  A League of Her Own

  Someone Like You

  His Hometown Girl

  Wish Me Tomorrow

  Bad Boy Rancher

  Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  To “Beanie”—the best French braider, foreign-film discoverer, homeopathic health experimenter and big sister I could have ever wished for. You’re the yellow heart to my pink.

  Contents

  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

  EXCERPT FROM THE RANCHER'S RESCUE BY CARI LYNN WEBB

  CHAPTER ONE

  “ACTION!”

  At her director’s prompting, Katlynn Brennon aimed her sincerest smile into the television camera, stuck out her forehead and tipped down her chin for her best angle. Her weary eyes chased the racing teleprompter all while striving to ignore her “slimming” undergarment’s malicious dig.

  What number was this take?

  Infinity?

  “Babe Paley, the socialite wife of CBS founder, William S. Paley, once said, ‘A woman can never be too rich or too thin,’” Katlynn intoned, voice steady despite the boom mic’s close dip to her head. “However, many of her fellow glamour queens might have added that riches don’t guarantee contentment. Heiresses may even share a unique kind of adversity.”

  Beneath blaring lights, Katlynn willed back the damp forming on her forehead.

  Glow not glisten.

  Glow.

  “On tonight’s episode of Scandalous History, we’ll dig into the secret lives of seven ‘golden girls’ who inherited their share of troubles along with their fortunes.”

  She paused, maintaining her pose for Editing, who appreciated extra room on the ends of takes. Dozens of eyes peered at her from the shadows.

  Nope. This wasn’t awkward at all...

  Perfectly natural to grin at nothing like a loony statue...

  “Cut!” bellowed her director, Gabe French, and she blew out a breath. A gray-haired, slouchy man, Gabe’s heavy-lidded eyes and rumpled clothes belied his legendary perfectionism. “Great job, Katlynn. Just amazing. Now, can we do another take with you repeating the intro salaciously?”

  Mary, the studio’s overzealous hair and makeup person, rushed Katlynn with a fistful of spritzes, brushes and powder. De-frizzing spray blasted in a coconut-scented cloud.

  “Salaciously?” Katlynn choked out as Mary smoothed down microscopic hair wisps only an expert stylist or a circling hawk could spot.

  “Like you’ve got a tasty, juicy bit of gossip to tell.” Gabe’s eyes gleamed. “Give me a knowing smile with your left eyebrow lift.”

  “How’s this?” Katlynn shot him her best Mona Lisa impersonation while Mary scurried around in a cyclone of powder.

  “Perfect!” he crowed before turning to the lighting director. “And can we warm up the lights? Katlynn’s skin looks like a corpse.”

  “Give us a sec,” the gaffer grumbled, huddled with his crew.

 
; Katlynn hid her wince, concealing her growing worries about aging in a youth-obsessed industry.

  “And Mary, do something about those dark circles under her eyes.” The director peered at the camera’s monitor.

  Mary whispered, “If he calls you a corpse one more time, I’ll put him in a grave.”

  “I’m thirty-two,” Katlynn reminded Mary as she dotted concealer under Katlynn’s eyes. “Ancient by LA standards.”

  “Pee-shaw,” Mary clucked. “You’re the most beautiful woman on TV. People magazine said so.”

  “Five years ago,” Katlynn reminded her. Yesterday’s news. What would happen when she wasn’t young enough, pretty enough, to headline a show? Would she disappear, fall into the same obscurity she’d grown up in? Become no one again?

  She shook the crazy thought aside. Six seasons and still going strong, Scandalous History was here to stay, her hosting position assured.

  So why hadn’t the network confirmed next season’s renewal?

  Mary lint-rolled Katlynn’s dress then hustled out of frame when the key grip lifted three fingers for the countdown. He curled down one finger, two, then pointed the third. The director yelled, “Action!”

  Katlynn leaned forward, lifted her left eyebrow and curled her mouth conspiratorially as she delivered the next take “salaciously.”

  One hour and eight takes later, Katlynn briskly strode from the taping room, every step agony as the heels Wardrobe paired with her tight sheath dress strangled her toes.

  “Hi, Ms. Brennon.”

  “Hey, Bob.” She flashed their set designer a broad smile without stopping. The minute she reached her dressing room she’d shut the door, kick off her shoes and wriggle free of the straitjacket masquerading as shapewear.

  A couple of interns flattened against the wall when she approached, wide-eyed and silent as she passed.

  Katlynn held her head high, soaking in the attention accompanying stardom on a major primetime show. Twelve years ago, she’d been a no one from Nowhere, Colorado. Growing up poor, the youngest of twelve children, she never had much, especially attention from her hardworking parents. She’d struggled to be seen and heard, to feel important, valued.

  One time she’d even run away for two days to draw their attention. When she’d returned home, she discovered a humiliating truth. She hadn’t even been missed.

  “Your new eyelashes arrived, Katlynn,” Mary huffed beside Katlynn, striving to match her long-legged stride. “If you have a sec...”

  Despite her hurry, Katlynn slowed. “Sure.” She shoved down her need for five minutes of blessed quiet and a non-cinched waist. She was a professional, not a prima donna.

  “Also, Jennifer would like to squeeze in a fitting,” Mary continued, referring to the show’s wardrobe supervisor. “You’re going to love this dress. It’s a sheath, which’ll show off your amazing figure. Plus, the rose color will be gorgeous with your blond hair and blue eyes. I’ve already picked out a custom lip color to match.”

  “Sounds great,” Katlynn enthused, disguising her dismay. Another “body-conscious” dress. She made a mental note to call her trainer about extending her grueling workout sessions. Yay.

  “I knew you’d like it!” Mary seized Katlynn’s arm and steered her toward Wardrobe.

  “Katlynn!” One of the show’s producers approached, tie askew and slightly out of breath. “Tom’s calling a meeting in five.”

  Alarm bells shrilled. Tom, their executive producer, usually followed a strict schedule, one that included an afternoon round of golf. What was important enough to make him miss his coveted tee time? News about their show’s renewal? Surely, he could have just emailed them, unless...

  “Sorry, Mary.” Katlynn’s heartbeat sped. “Tell Jen I’ll stop by after the meeting, okay?”

  “Thanks. You’re a doll.” Mary clomped away in square, comfortable-looking heels.

  How long since Katlynn had worn anything practical like those to work? Even when running errands, she dressed up, maintaining the classy “brand” her PR agency insisted on, aware of lurking paparazzi eager for the “Stars, They’re Just Like Us” money shot. Since landing in the tabloids when she dated a famous actor for a hot minute, they’d stalked her...a dream for her PR team, and, she’d admit it, a thrill for her. Still, what she’d give to shop in a pair of comfortable jeans and worn cowboy boots like back home.

  “Everything okay, Braydon?” she asked as they practically galloped down the corridor.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ted, one of the show’s writers, joining them.

  “He didn’t say.” Braydon stopped abruptly and lowered his voice. “But according to his secretary, Mr. Warner called him an hour ago and they spoke at length.”

  “The new CEO?” Katlynn breathed, her internal alarm bells now shrieking. Recently acquired by another parent company, their network braced for changes, changes she feared included her being replaced. Out with the old; in with the new. “That’s...interesting.”

  Ted crossed himself and mumbled something inaudible.

  “I just saw the email about the meeting.” Their head writer, Stella, emerged from the writer’s room. “Are we canceled?”

  “Not officially,” Braydon groaned as they resumed their hurried trek to the conference room.

  “Stay calm, everyone,” Katlynn said through a smile when they reached the glass doors leading to the conference room. She pushed one open and glided in, projecting confidence and star power.

  Never let them see you sweat.

  “Katlynn, you look beautiful as usual.” Tom stood, exchanged two air kisses with her, then drummed his fingertips on the long, mahogany conference table.

  Somber-faced staff filed in and slid into their seats. Katlynn’s cheeks hurt with the effort to keep her lips stretched upward. Eyes swerved between her and Tom. Someone coughed. Someone else tapped a pencil, a snare-drum sound.

  Katlynn slid into her seat once everyone took their places. As the show’s star, she was looked to for direction by the staff, and she wouldn’t project fear. Beneath the table, though, her fingernails dug into her palms.

  “Our acquisition by Ultima will allow us to reach a larger market share and produce a wider range of shows.” Tom paused and gulped whatever his LA Lakers’ mug contained. By the smell, Katlynn guessed whiskey.

  She glimpsed Braydon pantomime slashing his throat and nudged the tip of his dress shoes beneath the table. When he mouthed, “What?” she lifted her eyebrows, a silent, “You know what.” Followed by, “Stop.” He was scaring the staff, given their wide eyes.

  “We’re thrilled to be under Ultima’s umbrella,” Tom continued, looking slightly sick, his skin tinged green. “However—”

  “Here we go!” Braydon exclaimed.

  Chairs creaked and fabric swished as several staff members fidgeted in their seats. Someone knocked over a coffee cup. Others fiddled with their phones beneath the table, frantically contacting their agents, Katlynn suspected...something she’d need to do, too. Possibly. If the show was getting the ax.

  She gulped back the sour taste of fear and lifted her chin, her expression serene.

  Fake it till you make it...

  “It’s not as dire as you think,” Tom assured them, dabbing at his perspiring brow. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of his leather chair, revealing wet stains beneath his arms.

  Katlynn blinked. In all her years working with Tom, she’d never seen him without his suit coat. It was disconcerting, and the simple act felt like it heralded the apocalypse.

  Was her dream of living in the spotlight, a person who counted, mattered and was noticed, over?

  She’d arrived in LA twelve years ago with a broken heart and a job offer at a local news station. Since then she’d worked tirelessly to climb the ladder, meeting influential people, making the right connections, tak
ing night classes to finish her broadcasting degree, even revamping her appearance and style from country mouse to LA chic. She would not go back, not when she’d come so far, sacrificed so much, including the man she’d once thought she’d love forever.

  “What is it, then?” blurted their head writer, Stella. “Are we canceled?”

  “No,” Tom said, and a collective sigh of relief rose from the table. Katlynn released a long, shaky breath. “However, they’re taking a closer look at the viability of some of the current programming, and Scandalous History is on the list.”

  “So, what’s our status?” Braydon grabbed a mint from the bowl in the center of the table and struggled to unwrap it with shaking fingers.

  “TBD,” Tom stated flatly, his lips leached of color.

  To be determined—purgatory for a television show—a temporary stop before cancellation.

  No.

  “We have to wow them, folks, and show an uptick in ratings to avoid the chopping block.” Tom dropped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Let’s brainstorm.”

  “That’s our department.” Stella’s protest was joined by her nodding writers.

  “We’re in this together,” Tom insisted. “We need a grand slam.”

  “What about Area 51? The sixties are far enough away to be history,” suggested Braydon.

  Tom shook his head. “Too sci-fi. We need something that screams Americana. An unsolved mystery maybe. Something to capture the viewers’ imaginations and create watercooler buzz.”

  “I like that!” Stella scribbled on a pad then peered up through the square glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

  “How about a missing ship, like the USS Wasp?” suggested their gaffer. “It headed to Bermuda after the War of 1812 then disappeared.”

  “Lots of great shots in the Caribbean,” their director, Gabe, mused, his eyes now three-quarters open. “Plus, we’d get to film our gorgeous star on the beach.” He squared his hands and framed Katlynn in them across the table. “The wind blowing through her platinum hair...a sarong around her bikini...”