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    Cowboy in Trouble: Love n Trouble
    Cowboy in Trouble: Love n Trouble
    Cowboy in Trouble: Love n Trouble
    Ebook89 pages47 minutes

    Cowboy in Trouble: Love n Trouble

    By Autumn Piper

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    About this ebook

    A cowboy on the run and a girl on the rebound make for a messy fling.

    Colby may be having the worst day ever. He wakes up at gunpoint, "hired" by a stranger to do a new job he doesn't want. Worried the load he's hauling is contraband, he walks off the job once he's out of sight of his new employer. Running may not be his best plan, but he needs time to find a way out of this mess.

    Delta's day starts off rough when her pickup stalls on the side of the road. Lucky for her, a handsome cowboy comes along and works mechanical magic on the poor old truck. They strike a deal: he'll help her out around the farm in exchange for a place to lay low for a few days. He turns out to be handy in all the right ways. A real keeper…not that she's interested in keeping a man right now. She can afford a rebound fling, but nothing more.

    Besides, once Colby gets rid of the crime boss breathing down his neck, he'll hit the trail. A rodeo circuit cowboy from Oklahoma wouldn't want to stick around on a little farm in Colorado. Or would he?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAutumn Piper
    Release dateSep 17, 2018
    ISBN9781386218616
    Cowboy in Trouble: Love n Trouble
    Author

    Autumn Piper

    Born and raised in itty-bitty Rifle, Colorado, Autumn Piper studiously avoided trouble…but is now inclined toward it, particularly in her novels. She thinks the best things in life are funny, and the runners-up, romantic. An admitted carb addict, Autumn writes, edits, and cares for her two grown kids, a cat, a box turtle with a huge personality, one husband and many supersize houseplants, and does the cooking and cleaning when forced to.

    Read more from Autumn Piper

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      Book preview

      Cowboy in Trouble - Autumn Piper

      Chapter One

      Colby Green didn’t just wake up on the wrong side of the bed—he woke up in the wrong bed. Make that a couch.

      How the devil had he ended up here last night? This way-too-expensive motor home gave him the creeps. So did the guy standing in the corner dressed in black. Only other color that guy wore was silver: tips on his boots, on the flap-end of his belt, and even fancy silver buttons down his shirt. The hell of it was, the guy didn’t appear to be rich; only employed by somebody rich.

      The dark-skinned and silver-tipped guy hadn’t spoken since Colby sat up, but he’d motioned for him to stay put. The handgun at his hip served as incentive for Colby to be still.

      He could hear a shower running toward the end of the coach. Maybe they were waiting on whoever was in there.

      Jesus God, had he drank that much last night? He remembered playing poker and having a pretty fine buzz, but not enough to forget where he went and who he went with. Party after the barrel racing, with the concert blaring in the background. Who had been there? Most of the guys on Don’s crew he’d been working with for all of Frontier Days. A few strangers, but hell. The campground where they all kept their trailers was open for whoever to come and go.

      He rubbed the back of his head. Powerful headache, and he still felt a little woozy.

      The shower finally shut off and somebody clunked around for a few more minutes while Colby sat hunched over with his head between his knees.

      He must’ve pissed some guy off pretty bad, to hold him in his trailer at gun point. Had he been flirting with somebody’s lady? Didn’t remember any particular woman at the party.

      Good morning. Mexican accent.

      Colby lifted his head and met the gaze of a stringy man in a white silk western shirt, skinny jeans, and electric-blue boots. Hell’s bells.

      Hi. In case he’d done something worthy of pissing the guy off, he stood and met him to shake his hand.

      I am Javier. And you are having a lucky day. I need someone to do a job, a job that pays very well. You are going to do it.

      How the guy could speak with such certainty, Colby didn’t know. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I already have a job. Don Raleigh wasn’t the highest-paying boss on the rodeo circuit, but he was fair and always gave out paychecks the day the gig ended. No point in screwing up a good connection like that.

      No, you misunderstand, my friend. Javier leveled his gaze at him. You are going to do it. Rogelio. He nodded at the guard, who reached behind him for something, then brought it to Colby.

      His wallet. Damnation. He hurriedly opened it. Everything better be there, or these guys would have a fight on their hands, gun or no. He thumbed through, found all his money plus five crisp hundred-dollar bills. His credit card was there, and his license...well. It was there. But in backward and upside down. They’d seen his ID. He looked up at Rogelio, who gave him a knowing nod. Shit. His full name, address...what else had they snooped and found out?

      Look. I don’t know how I ended up here, but you can take this... He dropped the five hundreds on the plush carpet. ...and shove it. I’m outta here.

      Wait. Javier’s voice lowered, instead of raising. And he sounded more sinister that way. That is your gas money.

      Gas money. He didn’t need to go anywhere. I’m fine, thanks.

      The pistol clicked. Rogelio held it in his hand. Not aimed at him, just resting there like he was checking it out.

      Er. He cleared his throat. I really do need to go. I have a job here. Whoops. He’d almost told them who he worked for. Which wouldn’t be good. If they didn’t already know. Jesus. What had he gotten himself into?

      You will go, yes. Rogelio will follow you to your trailer. You will pack a bag. Then you’ll be delivering a load of hhhhhhay for me. You know St. Louis?

      Know it? Well, he’d been there. But... He nodded.

      Javier continued, Then you will come back with my truck and trailer, and I will pay you five thousand US dollars for your trahble.

      Fishy. Five grand for driving to St. Louis and back? No thanks.

      Another click from the gun. How had he forgotten the damn gun?

      "Three days, and we both go back to our normal lives. Myself here, and you, in Oklahoma. Comprende?"

      He gulped. I need to stop by my boss’s trailer and...tell him something.

      "Your abuela. How you say... Javier snapped his fingers. Grandmother. She is sick."

      Whoa. An excuse ready to go. Not Javier’s first rodeo.

      Rogelio. Javier gave him rapid instructions in Spanish.

      The guard motioned toward the door with his gun, holstered it, scooped the cash from the floor and followed close on Colby’s heels out the door.

      SO THIS WAS WHAT FELT like to sweat bullets.

      Colby put the truck in Park and got out. He backed a few steps away from the shiny black F450 with its fancy ebony gooseneck horse trailer.

      Just outside Greeley, Colorado—not yet an hour from Cheyenne, and his head felt like it’d explode. Or his heart.

      Something was wrong, really wrong, with this deal.

      It started with having the Hangover of a Lifetime, which was maybe the reason this all felt like a really bad dream. Until this morning, he’d swear he’d never seen Rogelio or Javier. No, he’d definitely remember those bright blue boots if he’d seen them before.

      He should be back in Cheyenne, helping Don’s guys move bulls.

      Instead, here he stood on the back side of this pricey rig, out of sight at a truck stop, scratching his chin and afraid to find out what he was really hauling. He hated the way Javier had

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