A Real Cowboy Always Protects by Stephanie Rowe

Sneak Peek: A Rogue Cowboy's Second Chance

Fifteen years ago, he shattered her heart. Now she needs to trust him with her life.

★★★★★ "Absolutely swoon worthy, lovable and emotionally driven. Family is everything." ~Madison (Five-star Amazon Review on A Real Cowboy for Christmas)

Brody Hart ranhis hand over the gleaming chestnut hair on Stormy's neck, pleased by how well the horse was doing. She'd been in such rough shaped when he'd rescued her, and now her coat was gleaning. Her dark brown eyes now had that sparkle he always fought to rekindle when he brought a new horse to the Hart Ranch. "Glad you found your way home," he told her.

Stormy snorted and swished her tail, impatient to get released from the cross-ties.

"I know. I'm almost done." Whenever Brody was in town, he did the shoeing for the horses who needed extra care. He'd made a study of farrier methods and honed his skills to best help the animals they rescued and brought onto the Hart Ranch.

He trusted no one else with Stormy's feet, and his care had made a difference. She'd barely been able to walk when she arrived, afraid to put weight on her broken hooves.

Now she galloped through their extensive pastures, tail held high, the purest freedom of spirit. She was why he had this ranch. She and all the others like her.

He ran his hand down her back leg and leaned his shoulder into her hip, shifting her weight off her hoof so he could lift it and work on it. He was humming quietly to himself when he heard footsteps behind him.

He didn't have to look up to know who it was. He recognized the gait of all eight of his brothers and sisters. He'd trained himself to do that back when they were homeless kids, hiding under the bridge in the dark. It had been imperative that he knew who was coming, so that he would know how to keep those under his care safe.

The habit remained today even though they were all adults, and no one was after them, trying to drag them back into foster homes, or worse. "Hey, Keegan."

His brother spoke without preamble. "Did you sleep last night? At all? Your light was on all night."

"You stalking me?" Brody set the lightweight, high-tech shoe on Stormy's foot to test the shape. Most horseshoes were steel. A few racehorses used aluminum. He'd experimented on a lightweight, durable plastic compound. It was too expensive to ever become popular, but he didn't care about money.

He cared about his horses. And his innovations had saved Stormy's feet.

"No." Keegan leaned against the wall, his booted feet in Brody's line of vision. "Just keeping an eye on my bro." He let out his breath. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing new." Brody lined up a high-tech nail and tapped it through the shoe and the outer rim of Stormy's hoof. "It was a false trail." Only nine of the homeless kids who'd been living under a bridge together so long ago had stuck together, taking the last name of Hart and claiming legal status as a family. But a number of others had gone through their pack during the five years Brody had held them together, not sticking around long enough to become a Hart, but always leaving behind an imprint that the rest of them never forgot.

After one of those who'd moved on had been murdered a few years ago, Brody had made it a point to track down everyone he could find and make sure they were alright. He'd located most of them, touched base, and helped out where he could. But there were a few he couldn’t find, and he wasn't planning on resting until he found them all. He thought he'd located one of the women, but he'd run into a dead end last night.

Keegan sighed. "We're all adults now, Brody. It's not your job to continue to hold us all together."

"It's what I do."

"I know. But you don't need to be the guardian of everyone anymore."

Brody finished securing Stormy's shoe and set her hoof down. He stretched his back as he turned to face his brother. Keegan was wearing a dusty cowboy hat, faded jeans, and a loose flannel shirt. His short blond hair was neat, and his blue eyes blazed with the warmth that was a hallmark of every Hart.

Keegan looked like a dusty cowboy, not one of the Hart billionaires who had gotten lucky with security software when they were teenagers. The world saw his family as billionaire celebrity recluses. Brody saw his family as the only people who mattered to him, real people who were all still fighting to escape the childhoods that had sent them running for their lives to hide out under a bridge as kids.

The shadows still ran deep for all of them. But the family they had formed had given all of them the safe space they needed, no matter what demons crawled out of their pasts after them. The Harts had a rule, which Brody had made when they were all under the bridge, that no one could hold out. Emotions had to be shared. Secrets had to be revealed. No one carried their burdens alone.

It was why they'd survived, and why the Harts were thriving now.

Which was why he answered Keegan's question. "Every night I go to bed, I see Katie Crowley's face. I wonder what I could have done to save her. If I hadn't let her go to Boston—"

"Stop." Keegan held up his hand. "You have to stop that shit. You're not a god, Brody. You never had the right to tell any of us what to do or how to live. Those of us who stayed chose to stay. Those who chose to leave were following their paths. However it turns out isn't your fault."

"But she's dead—"

"Yeah, it was shitty. You don't need to tell me that. I think about her, too. But she died years after leaving us. I hate to tell you this, bro, but you aren't responsible for the entire lives of every person you've ever met."

Brody scowled at him. "She's dead."

"And the rest of us are alive." Keegan put his hand on Brody's shoulder. "We're all here, Brody. Eight of us, plus you. More, if you include the Stocktons, now that Hannah married into their family. Katie was Hannah's sister, but Hannah has fought to find a life again, happiness, and a family. Learn from her. Let yourself be happy, Brody. That's what you're always telling us."

"I know." Brody shoved his cowboy hat back from his head and wiped his wrist over the perspiration beading on his brow. "It's different for me. It's my job to hold everything together."

"Yeah, well, not if it wrecks you." Keegan lightly punched Brody in the shoulder. "Family meeting tonight, bro. You're the topic. I just thought I'd warn you."

Brody frowned. "Why me?"

"Because we all think you're turning into an old shit, and you need to get a life." Keegan grinned and ducked when Brody tossed a rag at him. "Seriously. You better come in your party pants or you're going to get your ass kicked. We're tired of your crap, old man."

Brody laughed, his spirit already lighter. "Who's house?"

"Bella's hosting tonight."

Bella was the older of the two Hart sisters. She was the chef for the part of the Hart Ranch that provided high-end, rustic vacation packages for big spenders who wanted to experience the cowboy life on a dude ranch. "Is she cooking?"

"She is."

"Well, damn. I wouldn’t miss it if she's cooking."

"You wouldn't miss it anyway." Keegan tossed an envelope at him. "By the way, this arrived this morning by personal courier. Looks important so I opened it."

Brody took the envelope, which was, indeed, torn open. He didn't care. He had no secrets from his family. "What is it?" As he asked, he noticed the grin on Keegan's face. He stopped. "What?"

"Open it."

Brody shot Keegan a suspicious look, then slid his fingers into the envelope and pulled out a small white envelope with his name on it. That envelope was also open. He lifted the flap and saw it was a concert ticket.

Covering the name of the performer was a yellow sticky note. Someone had jotted in purple pen, "Personal invite from Tatum Crosby. She hopes you'll come."

He froze. "Tatum?"

"Tatum," Keegan confirmed.

Brody ripped the sticky note away and saw Tatum Crosby listed as the headliner for the concert. His seat was row one. Behind the ticket was a backstage pass. "The concert's tonight in Portland," he said, scanning the details.

"I saw that. You can't go, obviously. Family meeting and all."

Brody couldn't take his gaze off the ticket. Tatum Crosby. She'd swept through his little group when she was seventeen, a brilliant flash of fire, passion, and energy. She'd stayed for a summer.

A summer he'd never forgotten.

And then he fucked up, she'd left, and she'd never spoken to him again. He'd kept track of her, though. Watching her ascent to the realization of her dreams. "This can't be from her. She'd never invite me."

"Is it her writing?"

"No." She'd left Brody a note when she'd taken off. A note he'd kept for a long time as a reminder of how badly he could screw up if he wasn't careful. A reminder that had helped keep him focused on being the protector that all those in his care had needed.

He shoved the ticket back into the envelope and held it out to Keegan. "Toss it. I'll be at the family meeting tonight."

Keegan didn't take it. "I can't. I texted the Hart chat. We think you should go to the concert. See her. Family consensus."

"No." Brody tossed the envelope into a nearby trash can. "It's not from her."

"What if it is?"

He paused and looked at his brother. "She's married."

"Divorced. You know that."

Brody let out his breath. "Our fling was a long time ago."

"It wasn't a fling, and it might have been a long time ago, but she still haunts you. She's the reason why you've never met anyone else. We all know it." Keegan plucked the envelope out of the trash. "You're always telling us we deserve love. You're the one trying to marry all of us off because we all deserve the family we didn't have. But you're the one who won't even try. Because of her."

Brody walked to the end of the aisle and stared across their expansive ranch at the sun quickly rising in the sky. Tatum Crosby. Keegan was right. She had become his world fifteen years ago, and that hadn't ended when she'd left.

"You have to go, Brody. You always say that the universe hands you what you need, not necessarily what you want. Well, guess what?" He shoved the ticket back into Brody's hand. "You got handed a ticket, so you gotta go."

Brody scowled at his brother. "Why do you remember the things I tell you only when it's convenient?"

"Because I’m smart. I booked the penthouse at the Ritz in Portland for you already. They're delighted Brody Hart will be gracing them with his presence this evening." He grinned. "We're still going to eat Bella's dinner, but we're doing it without you, so you better have a good time, or you'll miss her dinner for nothing."

Brody grabbed a brush and began working on Stormy's neck. "I'm not going. It's not from Tatum."

Keegan laughed. "Of course you're going. There's no way in hell that you could possibly walk away from this invite without knowing that for sure."

Brody ground his jaw. "I fucked up. She was right to leave."

"Yeah, an eighteen-year-old, homeless, runaway trying to keep a bunch of kids alive and together made a mistake. He definitely deserves to pay for that for the rest of his life, right?"

Brody looked over at his brother. And said nothing.

"How many of her songs do you know every word to?" Keegan asked.

Brody replied without hesitation. "All of them."

"Then you need to go see her, or you'll never be free."

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