Page 1 of Huckleberry Hill (Saddles & Spurs #1)

Chapter One

The Ranch

“ Oh, shit! ”

I fumbled with my keys as the grizzly bear ambled from the tree line twenty yards from the cabin’s porch.

The waxing moon bathed the four-hundred-pound predator in a bright glow, yet there wasn’t enough light to help me get the key into the lock.

“ Come on ,” I muttered when the key refused to go in.

The grizzly stood on its hind legs for a moment and sniffed the air, and then charged.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Just as the key slid into the lock, lights flicked on inside the cabin.

The door opened, and before I could react, someone grabbed me by the shirt collar and yanked me inside.

The door slammed behind me but the force of being pulled inside propelled me into a warm, bare chest, and we both tumbled to the ground in a blaze of tangled limbs and curses.

A grunt of pain, followed by a breath of air in my face told me I’d knocked the wind from his lungs as I lay atop him.

The scrape of claws on the wooden porch made terror churn in my stomach. There was a huff and a loud sniff.

I looked over my shoulder to make sure the door was really closed.

Bear paws thudded across the porch steps and all sound disappeared. No doubt the grizzly went back to the woods, in search of an easier midnight snack.

“I usually buy a woman a drink before winding up in this position,” wheezed the man.

“Sorry,” I cried, scrambling to get off him. But in my haste, I accidentally kneed him in the ribs. At least it wasn’t his?—

He grunted again.

“Woman, are you trying to kill me?” he rasped.

I leaned my back against the door and raised my knees to my chest.

“No,” I replied. “Wait, is that a rhetorical question?”

He arched a dark brow at me.

Awareness flooded my stomach when I finally realized the man I’d fallen on wasn’t wearing a shirt.

And his gray sweatpants were riding ridiculously low.

Low enough that I could see the V of his stomach .

. . and the smattering of dark hair the same color that was on his head trailing down even farther out of sight.

He sat up and ran a hand across scruff covering his angular jaw.

“Who are you?” I demanded. “And what are you doing in my family’s guest cabin?”

“Your family?” He cocked his head to the side and peered at me with blue eyes the color of a North Idaho sky before a storm. “Ah, you must be one of Connor’s daughters.”

“Hadley Powell,” I confirmed. “And you are?”

“Declan Brewer.” He flashed a pleasant grin. “The new wrangler.”

“New? How new?”

I had talked to my father and grandmother recently. They hadn’t mentioned a new wrangler.

“Got to Elk Ridge about a month ago.” He bent his legs and stood. Declan held out a hand to me.

I took it, hating the betrayal of warmth that curled through my belly at his touch.

“Connor didn’t say anything about his daughter coming home for a visit,” he said.

“My trip was unexpected. I texted Dad and Muddy, but they must’ve already been asleep.”

“Muddy?”

“Grandmother,” I clarified absently. “When I was a baby and I tried to say grandmother, it came out Muddy.”

“Cute.”

I looked at the door. “My suitcase is outside. And my keys are still in the lock.”

“Both will be there tomorrow morning,” Declan remarked. “I might like a bit of danger in my life, but I’m not opening that door so a grizzly can make a spring snack out of both of us.”

“Fair point,” I drawled. I twisted my long, chestnut-colored hair into a messy top bun and secured it.

“Why didn’t you head to the main house?”

“I didn’t want to wake them up.”

If I’d woken them up, then I would’ve had to explain why I’d come home in the middle of the night without warning. And I wasn’t ready to explain it.

“Ah. And since you didn’t know about me, you figured you’d crash in the cabin and head to the main house in the morning.”

I nodded, my gaze dropping to his naked, sculpted chest. He had a tattoo wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff and another on his left pectoral.

“Do you have a shirt?” I asked pointedly.

“Several.” He grinned. “I can lend you one to sleep in.”

“Oh, that’s not what I?—”

“You can have the bed.”

“I’m not taking the bed.”

“The sheets are clean,” he promised.

I sighed in exasperation. “I meant, I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I intruded on your space. I’ll take the couch.”

“And then I’ll have to tell Connor that I let his daughter sleep on the couch? No way. Take the bed. I don’t mind. Really.”

I nibbled my lip and inclined my head. “That’s very . . . chivalrous of you.”

“Aww shucks, ma’am,” he drawled with a teasing grin.

Before I knew it, I was grinning back.

No. Bad girl. No.

“Follow me. I’ll get you something to sleep in,” he offered.

The cabin wasn’t large. It had a single small bedroom, a separate bath, and a kitchen and living room area with a wood stove.

My sister and I had spent many nights in this cabin with friends, having sleepovers and movie nights.

“You took down the twinkle lights,” I stated as I stood in the doorway of the bedroom.

Declan went to the dresser and opened a drawer. “Hmm?”

“The twinkle lights. From the porch.”

“Oh. Yeah, well I plugged them in and a few of the bulbs went out and the whole strand went dark.” He pulled out a faded gray T-shirt and a pair of flannel boxers. “This okay?”

“I usually know a man’s middle name before I wear his boxers,” I joked.

“Ah, sorry. You couldn’t waterboard my middle name out of me.”

“It must be really embarrassing.”

“It puts embarrassing to shame,” he replied.

I took the clothes from him, our fingers brushing against one another. A tingle of awareness flashed through my belly. “Thanks for this.”

“Sure. Bathroom’s there.” He pointed and then looked sheepish. “Of course you already know where the bathroom is, don’t you?”

“Yep. You didn’t ask why I showed up in the middle of the night.”

“Figured you have your reasons.” He shrugged. “Not my business.”

Nodding again, I took his clothes to the small bathroom. There was a clawfoot tub and shower, and you could barely turn around. I hit my elbows as I shucked my jeans off. My cell phone clattered to the floor.

It was only 2 a.m., but my body thought it was nearly dawn due to the time change from New York. I was exhausted.

Before I left the bathroom, I sent a quick text to the group chat I shared with my twin sister and two best friends, who were also our roommates back in the city.

Me

Made it home safe. Almost got eaten by a bear. Will explain later.

I opened the bathroom door and saw Declan’s sleeping arrangements on the couch.

“You hungry? Thirsty?” he asked.

“Thirsty,” I said.

“I’ve got water and beer. And half and half.”

“Water’s good,” I said, smiling faintly. He made a move to get me a glass, but I held up my hand. “I’ve got it. You’ve already done enough.”

“Done enough? By lending you my clothes?” His gaze dipped down my body and shivers prickled up my back.

Prickles I shouldn’t have felt. But Declan had three things in his favor: chest hair, a sense of humor, and the fact that he was a cowboy. He was checking off the list of my ultimate weaknesses.

“By saving me from a bear . . . and for giving me your bed. To name a few.”

He pretended to doff a nonexistent hat.

Bet he looks good in a cowboy hat and chaps.

Assless chaps.

Shit.

“I am curious about one thing, though,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“How did you get here? It’s an hour and a half drive from the Spokane airport.”

“ Cab.”

He raised his brows. “You got a cab to drive you all the way out here in the middle of the night?”

“I have the power of persuasion,” I joked.

More like power of the pathetic.

I’d spilled the truth to a complete stranger. Luckily there still were understanding and empathetic people in this world because not only did the cabbie say he would drive me, but he’d also turned the meter off and given me a flat rate like a car service would’ve done.

“Huh,” he stated. “Okay then.”

I went into the kitchen and got myself a glass of water. I drank half of it and then put the glass into the sink.

“You good?” Declan asked.

“I’m good.”

“Get into bed,” he said. “I’ll hit the lights.”

“Thanks.”

I climbed into the bed of a near total stranger, wondering why I felt more comfortable around him than the man I’d been dating for the last two years.

Not wanting to examine that feeling too closely, I shut my eyes and willed myself to relax.

The cabin went dark, and I exhaled a long, deep breath.

After a few minutes of silence, Declan called out, “Whenever I can’t sleep, I count sheep.”

“You do not,” I said with a laugh.

“I do,” he insisted. “I count blacknose sheep.”

I closed my eyes and tried as he’d suggested. But every now and again, a picture of a shirtless Declan hauling a bale of hay or riding a horse entered my brain.

Soon, it was just a never-ending stream of Declan doing manly cowboy things and glistening in the sun.

I rolled over and pressed my face into his pillow. The sheets were clean, but Declan had been sleeping in them long enough that his scent was on them. Sandalwood and something else. Something that was uniquely him. Something I couldn’t place.

“I’m doomed,” I whispered.

There was a hot cowboy who was completely my type sleeping one room over.

It was going to be a long night.