Cowboy Bikers MC #4
By Esther E. Schmidt
Copyright © 2020 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Cowboy Bikers MC is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.
This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.
Cover design by:
Esther E. Schmidt
Editor #1:
Christi Durbin
Editor #2:
Virginia Tesi Carey
Cover Model:
Peter Towers
Photographer:
Jules Godfrey Photography
Dedication
Good friends are always around,
no matter how hard times get.
To all my (author) friends…
this one’s for you.
Table of contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
– MAYVEN –
I am so thirsty. If there was a river I would drop to my knees and put my head in the water to suck it all up. It’s not only the Texas heat in the middle of this screwed-up day, but I was drinking last night and tequila always makes me thirsty the day after. I don’t have a hangover, but I am freaking thirsty.
Add in the fact that I’ve been walking for hours, haven’t seen anyone I can ask for a ride, and I need to walk at least another few miles before I arrive at my destination…yeah, it basically puts me in dry-throat-hell. Dammit. I didn’t plan any of this.
Last night I was at a funeral in Shreveport, Louisiana, sipping tequila. I know, not your basic choice of drink when you’re at a funeral, but this wasn’t a normal funeral because my friend, Kay, is connected to an extended type of family. They held a special gathering where the liquor was flowing freely as a tribute to their fallen friend; Kay’s father.
Kay doesn’t visit her extended family very often, which is the reason she asked me to go with her for support; so she could be there for her mother and pay her respects to her father. All went well until I saw something I shouldn’t have.
The whole “in the wrong place at the wrong time” cliché. Except in my case there’s an added life or death angle to it. Exactly why I hightailed out of there and got on the first bus to head for the only person I know who could keep me safe and know what to do; my brother.
And no, I didn’t leave my friend behind in the balance of danger. She was surrounded with her acquaintances and consoling her mother, absolutely oblivious as to what happened and what I saw.
She must be worried with me leaving without letting her know and not returning to our shared apartment either. But I couldn’t since she had my phone when I went to the bathroom. Ugh. I was lucky enough I took my purse with me when I needed to pee, so I at least had money for the bus.
Dammit, my mouth is as dry as the sand underneath my feet. I close my eyes and rub the sweat from my forehead. I blink a few times and take a deep breath before I start walking again. In the distance I notice a horse trotting toward me. Weird. No rider and yet there’s a saddle on his back.
My brother and I grew up on a ranch, the both of us are skilled riders. Though my brother is still working with live cattle and riding horses. Me? It’s been awhile since I was on the back of a horse. But with my feet hurting like crazy, I might as well try to catch this horse and look for the owner since it came from the direction I’m heading in anyway.
I hold my arms away from my body. “Whoa there, gorgeous. It’s all good. That’s a good boy. Girl. Whatever.”
I manage to catch the reins and gently stroke the horse’s nose.
“Look at you,” I croon. “Irregular blaze, while everything else is a nice brown color. Kinda like how I drink my coffee. Sorry, sweetie. I’m thirsty and I’ve been traveling all night and morning. Needless to say, I haven’t had any coffee.”
I gently move to the side and even if he’s a bit skittish, I’d rather sit on his back than stand or walk beside him. My brother used to train horses and break them in for a living. I’ve helped him many times, mostly when horses are scared and skittish. Like this one here because the horse starts to walk as soon as I grab the saddle.
Good thing you never forget how to ride, and I can move quick if I have to. My ass is in the saddle–and in full control of Coffee–with my next breath. Yes. I named him Coffee. I checked and he’s indeed a boy and I seriously need coffee and his color reminds me of the way I take it.
Oh, this is way better. Being on a horse I’m higher up and can now enjoy a slight breeze along with resting my tired ass and feet. And I have to admit, it’s been way too long since I’ve been on the back of a horse. I missed it. And I missed my brother too.
It’s been three years since I’ve seen him. We do talk on the phone but I’ve been busy with college and it’s not like we live right next door to each other. Getting closer to the ranch my brother lives at–which is located at the end of this road–my nerves start to get the better of me.
I hope my brother
