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A Cowboy’s Claim Excerpt

Book 3: The Skyes of Heart Falls

Chapter 1

 

The knock came sharp and fast, loud enough to rattle the glass on the clinic’s front door.

Sydney rolled her eyes. The sign on the outside of the Heart Falls Health Clinic door clearly read Closed. Typical Monday chaos. Probably someone wanting stitches or a refill without an appointment—

When the second knock came—harder, more impatient—she huffed and marched to the door, yanking it open with all the grace of a sleep-deprived ER nurse.

“What—?” She froze.

“Lovely to see you, too.” Her grandfather strode inside as if he owned the place.

Which, in a manner of speaking, he kind of did.

“Grandpa. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Last-minute decision,” he said, already sweeping his gaze around the lobby. “Had a layover in Calgary and figured I’d stop in to check on things.”

Sydney stepped back and folded her arms, watching him with wary affection.

He was taller than her—though that wasn’t hard, considering she barely reached five foot four. His auburn hair had faded to silver at the temples, but his eyes, like hers, were a striking silvery blue, sharp as ever. The way he held himself—straight spine, chin lifted slightly—was a familiar echo of her own posture.

Nathaniel Jones had always been the family force of nature. The brains. The legacy. The financier of her clinic and the author of the invisible rulebook Sydney had lived under for the past thirteen years—whether she’d wanted to or not.

Grandpa Nate’s brows winged skyward. “Did you forget what I look like?”

“I video chat with Grandma nearly every week,” she said, dry as toast. “But you’re never in the frame, so forgive me for checking to see if you’re still as handsome as ever.”

He frowned. “Please. You’re usually the only one of my five grandchildren who I can count on not being a bootlicker.”

“I wasn’t complimenting you, sir. I was calculating what percentage of your genes I inherited. Because damn, I’m going to be gorgeous when I’m old.”

That earned her a rare guffaw, and when he stepped forward to pull her into a hug, his grip was tight and real.

“You truly are the best of the bunch.”

“The most like you, you mean.”

“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” he agreed.

They stood in the quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat and scanned the space again.

“I remember this place is small. Won’t take long for you to show me around.”

“You reviewed the blueprints and financed the reno three years ago, and you’ve visited twice a year since. I’d think you remember more than the square footage.”

Still, she led him through the clinic. Two exam rooms. A staff area. Lab, receiving, waiting room. The only recent updates were a couple of new chairs and a narrow sterilization enclave Petra had helped her design last winter.

In the second exam room, Grandpa Nate lingered long enough for her to wonder if he was trying to make her squirm. Not that she had a thing to worry about—she kept her nose clean when it came to anything involving the clinic.

Sydney kept her expression bland and her spine straight. It was just his annoying way.

Finally, he looped back to the front and settled into the comfiest chair in the waiting area as if he planned to stay.

“Your clinic’s only open three and a half days a week,” he said, gaze level. “Even so, your salary is meager.”

“This is a financial check, then?” Sydney asked. She kept her tone level, knowing full well she owed her ability to run the clinic at all to his backing.

“Call it curiosity,” he said. “My assistant, Jeremy—you remember him—tells me that with less than full-time hours, your expenditures remain high. Explain.”

“I run the clinic days with support staff. The other days, I do relief shifts at the hospital in Diamond Valley or I make house calls. It’s what this community needs.”

 “I’ve always agreed that your talents are best used outside of a lab.” He tapped the arm of his chair. “But I also expect you to keep growing. A practice in the city, eventually. Something scalable. Prestigious.”

Here we go again.

“I like working with people,” Sydney said with deliberate coolness, “in a place that needs me. Being in Heart Falls is not a stepping stone. It’s my job.”

He watched her for a long moment. “And no distractions, I trust?”

There it was. The line drawn in invisible ink.

Her grandfather was rich enough to be odd, she supposed, and until now, his generosity had always worked in her favour. The money he threw her way allowed her to run the clinic how she wanted and the only rule was she had to keep her career first and foremost.

No entanglements. No serious relationships.

Nothing that might pull her off course. Which had been a fine thing when she was twenty-three.

Now at twenty-nine?

“I haven’t forgotten,” she said quietly.

“Good.” He stood and adjusted his coat. “You’re too valuable to get sidetracked. I didn’t invest in you so some man could mess up your path.”

It might already be too late. She offered a polite smile. “You’d be the first to know if I lost my focus.”

Satisfied—or at least pretending to be—he stood and adjusted his jacket. “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” Sydney tucked her hands in the pockets of her scrubs top. If he went by rote, he’d give her a few final bits of advice, then be out the door in under two minutes. Which Sydney was immensely grateful for this visit.

She wasn’t sure how good her poker face was.

He had a hand on the doorknob when he turned back. “One more thing. I know of a doctor who needs a change of scenery. Fully qualified. She’ll be a good fit here. Jeremy’s handling the paperwork. She starts Tuesday.”

Sydney blinked. “You’re adding another doctor?”

“And doubling your salary. It’s overdue.” He didn’t wait for her reaction. “You can put more into investments if you’d like. Jeremy can deal with that if you want, but I didn’t set you up here to suffer for your work. You have an outstanding mind, and you deserve the chance to shine in your career. If right now you feel house visits should be your priority instead of working the clinic, that’s your choice. But progress means not sitting back and letting life happen. Take control. Be in charge.”

Frustration flared. He did this every single time. Told her to be a take-charge and decisive person, and then he waltzed in and took over. Even though the financial freedom he’d given her was a gift beyond measure, the reins were getting tight. “Grandpa, I’m happy with—”

“No, this isn’t a conversation, it’s a reminder,” he returned. “You’re a brilliant, talented woman who I’ll support to the fullest so that your light never gets dimmed. You deserve the best,” Grandpa Nate said, resting a hand on her shoulder, speaking now like a wise, gentle guide. “That’s why I suggest you shouldn’t get distracted by emotional entanglements. They’ll dim your light faster than anything.”

Sydney nodded, because that was the expected response. Inside, though, something twisted.

Maybe involvement wasn’t a distraction. Maybe it was connection.

But she wasn’t ready to argue. Not yet. But the rules? They were already bending.

Grandpa Nate hugged her tightly, and within the two minutes she’d predicted, he was gone.

She shut the door behind him and leaned on it for a long moment, breathing deeply. As she had with increasing frequency over the years, Sydney wondered if her grandfather truly knew what brilliance looked like.

Her grandfather’s words echoed in her ears, but she shoved them aside with effort. It was Monday. There were surfaces to sterilize and lies to tell her best friends.

She was slowly shuffling around the clinic when Petra burst in, holding a box of supplies and wearing a wicked grin.

“Did you tie Declan to the bed?” her best-friend-number-one demanded.

Sydney blinked as the question triggered a flood of vivid mental pictures—all of which involved the delicious cowboy, Declan Skye. Broad shoulders. Firm pecs. Powder-grey eyes that reminded her of storms over the mountains. A mouth that should’ve come with a warning label.

The man she’d left in bed just over an hour ago, looking very well used and very well satisfied. Which, to be fair, had been the goal.

But the fact that she and Declan had been setting fire to his sheets for nearly a year was still a secret. Not even Petra and Tansy, her two closest friends, had pieced it together yet—though Sydney was starting to wonder how much longer that would last.

Guilt over having lied so blatantly to her grandfather was such a faint wisp, Sydney almost felt guilty for the lack of it.

“He’s so damn stubborn,” Petra continued breezily, pushing into the first exam room and dropping a box of medical supplies on the counter. “Trust me, we all agree that tying him down is probably the only way to get him to rest after that knock to the head.”

Oh. Right. The head injury.

Sydney’s face heated. Of course, Petra was talking about Declan’s head injury, not the, uh, other things Sydney might’ve been up to with him this morning.

They were having fun. Great, no-strings fun. Declan had been clear from the start that he wasn’t looking for anything long term because he was still grieving his first wife. And Sydney? She had the rules. She had a clinic to run—and a career that only existed thanks to that one very specific condition.

No entanglements?

Grandpa Nate did not need to know how flexible that line had become.

Sydney leaned back on the counter and cleared her throat. “Declan is stubborn, I’ll give you that. But he knows better than to push it when his doctor”—she tapped her chest—”and both his brothers are on his case.”

“Jinx is the worst,” Petra said with pride. “You’d think she was the boss of us all. Yesterday at her birthday dinner she rearranged the entire table to reduce Declan’s movement and Tansy’s stress on the leg cast.”

“Good for her,” Sydney said, returning to wiping down the countertops. “Better to find your voice with the people who love you before you have to use it on the ones who don’t.”

Petra stilled. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Sydney lied automatically.

Petra raised one brow. “You’ve got that Sphinx face again. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Sydney said then sighed. “Grandpa Nate showed up. Surprise inspection.”

“Oof. And?”

Sydney lifted her shoulders briefly. “It went about how you’d expect. Got a raise. Got a new doctor coming onboard here at the clinic. Got another reminder that all relationships are distractions, and I need to be careful. So, you know, I might have to fire you as a bestie.”

Pffft.” Petra blew a raspberry.

Petra knew all about Grandpa Nate’s obsession with Sydney being the best—but not about the strings tied to the clinic’s funding.

When Sydney didn’t tease back, her friend paused, examining her face closer. “And how do you really feel about that?”

Sydney offered a faint smile, and this time she answered honestly. “Distracted.”

**

Declan stepped into the ranch house and was nearly trampled by Jinx, her golden retriever guard dog, Dixie, in hot pursuit.

“Hi, Declan. Bye, Declan,” Jinx called over her shoulder, already halfway down the porch.

“Did you get the license plate of the truck that hit you?” Aiden teased from the kitchen, where he was filling a large pot with water.

Declan blinked then closed the door behind him. “Where’s she racing off to in such a hurry?”

“Check the calendar, bro. You signed off for her to attend horse camp the next two weeks with Sasha Stone. They’re picking her up in a bit. Logan’s going along as a wrangler.”

Declan paused mid-step toward the fridge. “He’s barely back to riding.”

“Short periods of time,” Aiden agreed. “But he’s strong enough to help saddle and skilled enough to help instruct the campers who need guidance around the arena. Kevin suggested it would be good for him to have something specific to help out with in the community, and I agreed.”

“Huh. Okay.” Two weeks without the girl around was going to feel odd.

Declan settled at the dining room table. The massive wooden surface was large enough to seat sixteen without crowding, and it had become the heart of the High Water home. Not just for him and his brothers, but for everyone who found shelter, even temporarily, at the ranch.

And that list was growing. Constantly changing as people who needed a little time away from their past mistakes and some help to get back on their feet arrived and then left. Most of the men stayed for under a week although a few had needed close to a month to put their affairs in order.

Logan had arrived nearly five months ago, beat up and super cagey about his past. While he hadn’t shared much yet, he’d slowly and steadily proved his worth, and he now seemed nearly as firm a member as the young woman who’d raced out the door moments earlier.

Logan dodged sharing the same way Declan had dodged feeling anything real for months after his wife had died. Watching the kid, Declan wondered how long someone could carry secrets before they buckled.

Jinx had arrived nearly a year ago, and was now known in the community as Declan’s ward. Getting to watch the seventeen-year-old lose her fearfulness so her real personality shone through made every bit of work it had taken to get to this point worth it.

The only full-time staff at Heart Falls was their live-in psychologist, Kevin Robb. He seemed to have his own ghosts to deal with, but mostly, he kept all of them at the ranch subtly focused on finding a smoother path forward.

The most recent permanent arrival was Jeffrey, Jake and Tansy’s five-year-old son, and having a kid around was still a huge adjustment—

The sound of Aiden clearing his throat brought Declan’s attention back from his musings.

“You’ve been pretty distracted lately, so I wanted to make sure you remembered we have a new ranch hand arriving any minute.” Aiden kept his gaze fixed on Declan.

“I knew that.” Declan fought for the details. “A Rick. Or a Ryan?”

“Russ.” Silence fell for a moment before Aiden cleared his throat again. “If you want me to take lead on this one, I’m willing. You don’t have to always be the one—”

“I’m fine. But you’re right; I’ve been distracted. It’s not fair to any of you,” Declan announced firmly.

Daydreaming was one thing, and his mind was tangled with all of the things he’d been pondering lately, especially since he’d gotten injured.

Fucking around enough that he couldn’t do his job was inexcusable, though. If he couldn’t hold the ranch together, what business did he have trying to build something with a woman like Sydney? “I’ll get him settled, and we’ll prep the stalls for the seniors coming in tomorrow.”

“Seniors?”

“A woman in the foothills is moving into town. She’s placing the rest of her livestock, but the two oldest horses are being retired.”

Aiden grinned. “We’re becoming a retreat for horses in their golden years.”

“I have a soft spot.”

“No argument here,” Aiden said then nodded toward the table. “I did get a lead on a new dining table. Community hall over-ordered. Malachi asked if we wanted one.”

Declan frowned. He’d been tracing the tabletop under his fingers unconsciously as he spoke. The surface was marred with teeny nicks and scratches from wayward cutlery and overly enthusiastic moments during family game nights. “What would we need a new table for? This one seats sixteen. There’s no room for anything bigger.”

Aiden shrugged. “It’s big enough, but it’s a little beat up.”

Somehow, the offer felt wrong. “This one is still sturdy, and now it’s got some character. Being a little bumped and bruised is sometimes what gives a thing its value,” Declan pointed out.

His brother paused then nodded slowly. “Good way to think of it. I’ll let Malachi know thanks anyway, but we don’t need the new one.”

A knock sounded, and Declan headed to the door.

The man on the porch wore a dirty backpack and an even dirtier baseball cap. He peered past Declan into the house before meeting his eyes. “This High Water?”

“It is.”

The man glanced over the porch toward the barns and building that held the guest housing. “Heard you might need help for a few days.”

“We do. I’m Declan. Come with me.”

“Food first,” the man snapped, then winced. “Sorry. Haven’t eaten in a bit.”

Which sometimes happened, so Declan ignored the momentary rudeness. “Supper’s in a couple of hours, but there’s a basket of food in your room. Most people tend to need something to tide them over when they arrive. We’re used to it.” He put his hat on and stepped off the porch, trusting that Russ would follow.

Over the next hour, Declan didn’t get much more out of the man than he hoped to be gone in under a week. Russ nodded at the rules, but his eyes never stopped scanning exits. He looked exhausted but on edge, the way someone looks after weeks of dodging trouble.

Declan gave the man a pass. Escaping a situation where you had to constantly watch your back—it wasn’t a thing to turn off in an instant. Hell, living on fumes and fear made a person jumpy as well. Declan knew that from personal experience.

“Clean clothes are in your room. Supper’s at six. Family style. You’ll be number ten at the table tonight.”

Alarm lit Russ’s expression. “Seriously?”

“Unless there’s a good reason for you to avoid showing your face, it’s how we do things. If it’s too much, I’ll make other arrangements.”

Russell mulled it over. “No, I’ll manage. Just didn’t expect so many people.”

“Only two ranch hands besides you,” Declan said. “The rest is family and staff. My brothers, their partners, two kids, and our counselor.”

Russell stiffened. “Don’t need therapy. Don’t want a shrink up in my business.”

“Good to know. Then you can just have a nice quiet meal and listen to everyone else talk.”

The man nodded then shuffled off, head swaying from side to side as he kept watch on his surroundings.

Declan stood his ground and pondered until Russ vanished into his room. What effect did having that kind of burden on a man’s back cause? To be so fearful for his life that he couldn’t walk across the yard with his head held high?

Declan slipped into his apartment and grabbed a quick shower himself before heading up to the house.

He was one step from the porch when Sydney’s truck rolled down the lane.

And just like that, his thoughts scattered like startled birds.

He’d been turning their situation over in his mind for weeks. The sex had started as spontaneous and secret. Now it was…more.

Or at least he wanted it to be.

He’d been about to suggest they should take their relationship out into the open when he’d gotten clobbered on the head. It hadn’t seemed the time to change things up. Not with all the other big adjustments in the High Water household plus adding a five-year-old.

But the twisting in his gut at the simple sight of her made it clear something needed to happen.

You set the rules. You can change them.

It sounded like Sadie’s voice, no matter how many years had passed. Clear as ever. Calling him out on his own bullshit.

It still hurt, thinking about her being gone. But his subconscious, or his id, or whatever the hell they called the part of the brain that wouldn’t let a person blow smoke up their own ass, was calling the shots right now.

It was time.

He’d been grieving for Sadie, and nothing had interrupted that pain but the plans for High Water. Then he’d still been grieving but ready for sex, and Sydney had jumped in with both feet.

He didn’t think he’d ever fully be done grieving for Sadie, but superficial sex, even spectacular superficial sex, wasn’t enough anymore.

Which meant he had some figuring out to do. Sydney was everything Declan had ever wanted in a woman. He liked them smart, he liked them sexy, and he liked them stubborn.

But the affair with Sydney had a strict fun-and-fucking-only mandate. Now that he was ready for more, he’d have to convince her she wanted him too.

The petite redhead dropped from her massive truck, bouncing up like usual. She slammed the door shut and marched forward, all fiery flash and determined motion. “Hey, you. Petra invited me to crash your dinner party yet again, and I couldn’t resist.”

“Tansy isn’t cooking; Aiden is,” he warned her.

Sydney laughed. “I know, but even your brother’s cooking skills are better than mine. I’ll take my chances. I do need to eat.”

He had to be feverish, or simply too mentally tangled up to be thinking straight. Because what he should have done was open the front door and follow her in. Take his time and develop a game plan of some sort.

But if he didn’t say something now, when? Life didn’t come with guarantees—and the look in Sydney’s eyes this morning said she’d noticed the shift too.

So he met her on the bottom step and caught her fingers in his to keep her from blowing past. “We could go out. Just us. Not secret. Not by accident. A real date.”

Return to A Cowboy’s Claim

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