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A Blind Date With Her Cowboy Billionaire Boss
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A Blind Date With Her Cowboy Billionaire Boss
(Brookside Ranch Brothers)
Hanna Hart
Book #2
Copyright ©2019 by Hanna Hart - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
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About the Author
Chapter One
Colt
Colt never imagined he would be one of those people who dreaded going home.
His life was all about his ranch. His mother even named him Colt after her love of the young horses they kept on their family farm back in Houston, Texas.
Ranching was in his blood. It was a right of passage.
When his father opened up a collection of luxury ranch resorts under their billion-dollar banner “Brookside Ranch” and gave him one to run all on his own in Carrin, Texas—a town he had never even heard of before—he readily accepted the challenge.
But back then, he had help to run his ranch—and his homestead.
Brookside Ranch was set on twenty-thousand acres of land. Unlike some of the other ranch properties his father Roger had purchased, Brookside Carrin also came with a cattle farm. They supplied most of the south end of Texas with grade-A, grass-fed, organic beef.
Colt hired someone else to handle that part of the business. As far as he was concerned, the only time he wanted to see or think about the fact that they ran a cattle farm was when it came up on the plates of his customers at their luxury ranch restaurant.
Now hospitality—that’s where Colt’s heart was at. That, and the horses.
Tonight, Colt had taken it upon himself to put away the horses. He led his favorite horse, a black stallion named Midnight, into his stable, and the horse pulled back with irritation.
“I feel you, buddy,” Colt said, running his hands along the animal’s mane. “I don’t wanna head back, either. But we have to buck up and take it like men. You know what I mean?”
Midnight whinnied at the thought.
“Alright,” Colt laughed. “One more ride, then it’s bedtime; you got it?”
Sensing that, at least for now, the horse had gotten its way, Midnight immediately changed his tune.
Colt brought him out into the expansive horse range and mounted him. Midnight trotted proudly and made his way through the grass.
Seeing the ranch lit up at night like that, Colt couldn’t help but be proud. The entire building was lit up with string lights and practically glowed in the summer night.
The accommodations included forty individual units and fifteen elegant two- and three-bedroom log cabin residences complete with authentic, western exteriors. Of course, they also included modern amenities and lavish accents that made people feel like they were in the old west while maintaining a sense of being pampered.
Brookside also housed fifteen in their Silver Creek Lodge—a large family unit that was often rented out by boys on a dude ranch weekend or wedding parties.
They could have had another private lodge and raked in heaps more in revenue, but Colt took the other lodge residence for himself.
This was both a good and a bad thing for him. It was good because he was never far away from the ranch that he loved so dearly, but it was bad because that also meant he was always ‘technically’ at work.
Plus, the lodge had fifteen bedrooms and was much too big for him and his two children.
Not to mention, his mother.
“How was it?” she asked when he walked into his home.
These were the words his mother had said every day for the past five months.
Even though the simple phrase was meant to be a polite way of starting a conversation, he had begun to cringe whenever he heard the words.
She couldn't just ask, “How was your day?” or “Anything exciting happen at work today?”
No. It was always, “How was it?”
“Fine,” he said. “We did two tours at the fly-fishing course, and then we did a big campfire. I left as they were wrapping things up.”
“You worked late tonight,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I should have called,” he admitted.
On top of the usual things like horseback riding, the ranch also offered mountain biking, fly fishing, luxury corporate retreats, family activities at their Lil Wrangle and Run camp, ATV riding, archery, and special feast nights hosted by their executive chef.
These were all things he had to either tend to, be present at, or check up on during any given day.
He felt bad for his mother, Shannon. She was not living with him due to old age. She was only fifty-two and in perfect health, as far as he knew.
She was living with him because he needed help with the kids. Never in his whole life did he imagine that raising two kids under five would be more difficult than running a billion-dollar company.
There weren’t enough hours in the day to spend with them.
“It's alright,” Shannon said with a shrug. She pulled a plate of food out of the refrigerator and said, “There's dinner for you. Do you want me to heat it up?”
Colt looked down at the plate. It was meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with a side of buttery corn on the cob. He would have kissed her square on the lips if she weren’t his mother. Comfort food was exactly what he needed right now.
“It's okay,” he said as he eagerly pulled the plastic wrap off of the plate. “I'm fine with it cold. Thanks.”
His mother reached across and grabbed a strand of thick hair from his bushy beard between her fingertips. Her disapproval of his new unkempt look was evident in her expression.
“Any plans on shaving this?” she asked. “Anytime soon?”
Colt inhaled audibly and ignored her. “How were the kids?” he asked.
“Isaiah was a good boy today. Eleanor...well,” she shrugged and took a seat across from him at the dining room table. “That girl is going to take an eardrum out, mark my words.”
“I'm sorry,” he said, feeling guilty.
“It's alright,” she said, raising both her palms to him. “That's what babies do. They cry.”
He knew she was right, but he couldn’t help the guilt he felt knowing that she was taking care of his children day in and day out.
“I took her out to the farmer's market this morning and walked her around,” Shannon added sweetly.
“I'm sure the patrons there were eternally grateful to have a screaming baby in their midst,” he snorted.
“It calmed her right down,” she said, ever positive. “She's going to be a farmer, I can tell.”
“No,” he laughed. “She's going to be a scientist.”
“Maybe she'll do science on fruit and vegetables.”
“You never know,” he agreed.
His mother watched him shoveling down food, probably thinking that his appetite was just as voracious now as it was when he was sixteen. Then she folded her hands together and broke eye-contact with him as she said, “I saw Suzanne there.”
His former mother-in-law. Or was she still his current one? He didn’t know how their family ties worked anymore.
Colt didn’t look up from his meatloaf. “Oh yeah?”
She nodded and waited for him to ask a follow-up question. He didn’t, and she took it as a sign to leave the subject alone.
“Alright,” she said, forcing a yawn. “I guess I'll head up to bed.”
“Goodnight, ma,” he said, nodding toward her. “Thanks for supper.”
Colt was happy for the brief moment of silence at the dinner table but was startled when he looked up and saw his mother still standing there, hesitating in the doorway.
“Something else?” he asked.
Shannon cleared her throat. “I just wanted to tell you that I booked a flight home on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” he repeated in surprise. “That’s less than a week from now!”
“I know,” she said guiltily. “But I need to get out to your bother.”
Colt set down his fork and laughed indignantly. Throughout his twenty-eight years, his mother had always done this. “Which brother, ma?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “There are six of us, after all.”
“Phoenix,” she said, speaking of the middle child.
From oldest to youngest, there was Jett, Bennett, Colt, then Phoenix, Hunter, Jackson, and their baby sister Kennedy.
His parents had been so busy starting and raising a family, Colt had no idea how they had ever devoted their time to the ranch.
He only had two kids, and he was already going out of his mind.
“Phoenix always needs help,” Colt said petulantly. “He's not the only one having trouble right now.”
“I know that,” she said. “But you can do this. I've done all I can do here. Besides, I haven’t seen your father in nearly a month now. He’s meeting me there.”
“What am I supposed to do about the kids?”
“Raise them,” she teased. “I've more than shown you how. It's only one more year until Isaiah will be in school, and things will get better then.”
“And Eleanor?” he asked, knitting his brows together.
“I was thinking I might send your sister down to help you if you aren't keen on hiring a caretaker.”
“No,” he said, putting a hand up and laughing with annoyance. “No, no, no. That's fine. I don’t' need her bringing her teenage friends to my house and partying while I'm gone.”
“Oh, she's not that bad,” Shannon laughed. “I think it could do her some good to be out here with you.”
“No, thank you. I can only take one headache at a time,” he said.
“You know...we only want to help.”
“I know that, ma,” he said. “But nothing helps.”
Chapter Two
Shelby
Things are bigger in Texas. That's the saying. Shelby had heard the phrase since she was a little kid and even had some obnoxious high school friends who used to yell the phrase with conviction—trying to prove how truly awesome they were.
Shelby had loved her home state. She was from Carrin, a coastal town in the South of Texas.
Growing up in Carrin gave her the best of both worlds. She had the dry, intense heat from the Texas sunshine along with the type of dockside living strictly reserved for the western states.
Carrin had a large marina, docks, water sports, sprawling ranches, and waterside restaurants.
It was the perfect place to grow up.
Whether it was the perfect place to come back to after a failed marriage, Shelby had yet to determine.
“How’s unpacking coming along?” Whitney asked, setting a glass of sweet tea on the counter in front of Shelby.
“As you can see,” Shelby said with a broad smile, gesturing toward her lax seat at the local diner’s barstool, “I’m being very productive.”
Her friend laughed, tossing her wild brown curls behind her.
“Just because you don’t unpack doesn’t mean you don’t live here,” Whitney said.
Shelby slouched in her stool and dragged her fingertips along her face. “Don’t remind me,” she joked.
Yes, Shelby had loved living in Texas when she was young. But coming back as a divorcee in a small town where everybody knows everyone else’s business might be the biggest risk she’d ever taken.
“What's the plan for today? Gonna go walk down by the water?”
“Nah. I'm gonna get my steps in,” she said, tapping the watch on her wrist. “Then I'm going to look for a job. I can't keep sitting around your house without contributing anything.”
“Fair enough,” Whitney said. Her friend's nose curled into a mischievous wrinkle as she suggested, “I think I know how you can kill two birds with one stone.”
Shelby took a long pull from her iced tea and blinked at her friend curiously.
“Do tell,” she said.
“You remember that old ranch on Morgan Road?” Whitney asked.
Shelby nodded. She remembered the old place. It was a sprawling property, but the ranch had fallen into disrepair after the owner lost his legs in a car accident. Shelby and her friends would walk by now and again and slowly watch the building lose its luster. Loose board beams and wild animals running through the ranch fields with nobody to rein them in. It was quite sad.
“Well, this family came in and bought it a couple of years back,” Whitney said, then held up her finger to pause the conversation as she picked up a pot of coffee and marched it over to a customer's table.
Whitney was a waitress at Brewed Awakening. The diner was a local hotspot and often where the townies came to deliver their daily dose of gossip.
She was more than a waitress, actually. Whitney's mother had owned it, and after she retired, Whitney began running it with her boyfriend, James.
After Shelby's life began falling apart, Whitney had invited her to come and live above the diner with her until she got back on her feet. It was a sweet offer. One Shelby couldn't rightly refuse—especially considering she had nowhere else to go.
“Okay,” her friend said excitedly, practically bouncing back behind the counter. “This family moved here a couple of years ago. Five or six years, maybe? The Brooks,” she said emphatically.
“Mmhmm,” Shelby said, indicating she was still listening.
“Really nice couple. Handsome husband, sweetie-pie wife,” Whitney said, her tone slowly mellowing.
“Let me guess,” Shelby said, feeling a cold sweat run down her palms. She didn't make eye-contact with Whitney as she said, “Cute little kids?”
Her friend nodded but didn't dwell on the family, and she quickly continued, “Yep! Anyhow, they came in about five years ago with Colt's daddy's money—that's the husband,” she clarified. “They bought the ranch and turned it into this huge success.”
“Wow, really?”
Whitney nodded. “It's like this billion-dollar collection of ranches owned by all of these brothers.”
“Oh, wait,” Shelby said, wrinkling her forehead. “Is that...Brookside?”
“Yeah!” her friend cheered.
“I saw a sign for that place when I was driving in,” she said with recollection. “Is it a pretty big place?”
“Huge,” Whitney nodded. “It's a cattle farm, but they also do horse riding lessons, weddings, and they have all these experiences. It's pretty cool.”
“Can I assume this commercial you are reciting to me is a long-winded way of saying that the ranch is hiring?” Shelby asked, and Whitney laughed.
“Oh, the ranch is always hiring!” a middle-aged woman said cheerfully from her table behind them.
Shelby twirled in her stool to look at the woman, who looked over at them with zero shame for eavesdropping
on their conversation.
“They're always looking for horse instructors,” the woman added. “My daughter works there, doing these adventurous horseback rides. She loves it!”
For the first time in months, Shelby brightened. She loved horses, and the thought of getting to guide people on horseback all day sounded more like a dream than a job.
“That sounds perfect!” Shelby said, nodding toward the stranger. “Thank you!”
After finishing her drink, Shelby practically ran upstairs back into her friend's apartment and raided Whitney's closet—with her express permission—to find an outfit that screamed: ‘Hire me.’
She landed on a black pencil skirt and a white, collared, short-sleeved shirt. She put the ensemble on, along with a pair of black heels.
She thought the outfit seemed professional, but upon second inspection, she wondered what in the world she was thinking. This was a ranch, not a medical office.
Shelby hung the clothes back on their respective hangers and threw on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a black t-shirt.
It was casual enough to say she knew her way around the farm but flattering enough to say she wanted to be taken seriously.
She wore black mascara and nothing more. She wanted to be fresh-faced when she dropped off her resume, though she did take the time to carefully curl her honey-blonde hair into a cascade of s-shaped waves.
The walk to the ranch was long. Whitney wasn't kidding about the walk getting Shelby her much-needed steps.
Upon reaching her destination, Shelby was overcome by the opulence of the ranch.
It was a big change from the rundown old barn she remembered seeing as a teenager.