Cowboy Lullaby
By Lisa Gray
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About this ebook
Not long ago, Jack was awarded custody of his son Alex after the sudden death of the boy’s mother. Out on the road for all of his son’s life, what does he know about being a dad? Sleepless nights spent worrying have worn Jack to a raw nerve.
Visiting the dude ranch with Alex, Jack delights in Cole's friendship. And the way Cole’s warm, wonderful voice is so soothing, it cradles Jack to sleep whenever they’re together. Jack aches to spend every night dreaming in the big cowboy's arms.
But can a lullaby last forever? Or will the dream fade when morning comes?
Lisa Gray
Lisa Gray is an Amazon #1, Washington Post, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She previously worked as the chief Scottish soccer writer at the Press Association and the books editor at the Daily Record Saturday Magazine. She is also the author of Thin Air, Bad Memory, Dark Highway, and Lonely Hearts. She now writes full-time. Learn more at www.lisagraywriter.com and connect with Lisa on social media @lisagraywriter.
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Book preview
Cowboy Lullaby - Lisa Gray
11
Chapter 1
Cole Woodruff pulled a leather vest on over his white button-up shirt. Adding a bolo tie—turquoise and silver slide on a braided cord—he let himself preen a bit in front of the mirror. His jeans still fit well—no bulges or sags despite being a hefty man. Not bad for somebody pushing forty.
Yeah, yeah, you’re gorgeous—for an old cowboy,
came a snide voice from the bedroom doorway.
Cole turned and addressed the lanky young man leaning against the door jam. Well, little brother, you’d better hope I am, because I provide the local color. This get-up, the accent, and the cowboy lingo are what keep the guests coming back for another week’s stay. And that’s what’s going to pay your college tuition come fall.
The young man grimaced. You sure you can handle the ranch without me? I could still put off enrolling until winter. Then I could at least cover the fall color-tour guests for you.
Lee, you’re starting college—in the fall. End of discussion. You should’ve started three years ago. Besides, I’m thinking of promoting Mickey to be guest coordinator.
Mickey? You’re kidding. He’s the best horse-wrangler there is, but handling complaints? He’d freeze solid. No, you need someone who can schmooze with the guests, make them feel like they’re doing the Lazy W Dude Ranch a favor by being here.
"Well, they are doing us a favor. A big one." Cole was truly grateful that converting their parents’ struggling cattle ranch into a polished, popular dude ranch had worked so well for him and Lee. He took pride in how the guests appreciated his particular attention to their comforts. Not that doing so was a hardship—he thrived on making people feel special and cosseted. Running a dude ranch gave him lots of opportunity to do just that.
That reminded him he needed to brief Lee before the guests arrived. Hey, I want you to give some extra attention to one of the kids coming in today. His name is Alex Velez. He’s with his dad, Jack Harmon. The kid’s mother died a few months ago. An aneurysm—she was dead on the kitchen floor when he got home from school. Seems coming to a dude ranch is the first thing the kid’s shown any interest in since her death. So make sure both of them have the best time we can offer.
Poor kid. I’ll take special care of him. But the father—I’ll leave him to you.
Lee waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Thanks, smart-ass.
Cole glanced out the window and saw a distant cloud of rising dust. We’d better get moving—the van just turned onto the driveway.
He grabbed the envelope of room assignments and keys and tossed it to Lee.
The two of them headed for the front door, grabbed their cowboy hats off the pegs, and went to greet the guests.
Standing on the wide front porch, Cole closed his eyes and took a minute to breathe the spring air and feel the afternoon sunlight warm his face. Something about the season always made him feel more alive, like anything was possible. He opened his eyes and watched as the van approached, the red dust rising against the backdrop of the blue-gray mountains. God, he loved his job.
Once the guests had piled out of the van that had brought them from the airport, he stepped off the porch and went into his opening routine. Howdy, folks. Welcome to the Lazy W. I’m your host, Cole Woodruff, and this here young stallion is my baby brother, Lee. We’re so glad you’re here.
He walked over to the guests and shook everyone’s hand, murmuring a personal comment or suggesting an activity to each of them. He took pride in memorizing the names and faces and researching the preferences of each guest before they ever set foot on the ranch.
While Cole was busy greeting everyone, Lee moved among them, handing out room keys and maps of the ranch house, and loading the luggage on a wheeled cart as the driver hauled it from the van.
There was the Kendall family—husband, wife, and their twin girls. Next the Adamsons, father and two teenage sons who, to Cole’s experienced eye, looked like trouble. Then Mark Denali, there by himself. And last, Jack Harmon and his son Alex, standing pressed close together, like the soft breeze might knock them down.
An overwhelming need to offer comfort to both of them hit Cole hard. Damn, the man looked like he was holding on by his fingertips. Jack’s sandy good looks were dimmed by the lines of exhaustion in his face and the dark shadows under his soft, gray eyes. The carefully controlled tension radiating off him had Cole aching to just pull him in and hug him silly. Not the best choice as an introduction. So he settled for shaking hands with the man. No one could complain if he used both hands to capture Jack’s, offering warmth and contact. And who would notice if the handshake lingered just a bit longer than necessary? With a smile of commiseration, he asked, Rough flight?
Looking confused, Jack answered, No, it was fine. I…I just haven’t been sleeping well.
He slowly slid his hand from Cole’s grasp as if reluctant to let go, reached over, and nudged his son forward. Let me introduce you to Alex.
Cole squatted in the dusty driveway so he wouldn’t intimidate the boy with his size. The kid seemed so vulnerable, so uncertain. Holding out