Jake (Men of Clifton Montana Book 1)

JAKE

A Men
of Clifton, Montana

Book 1

Susan Fisher-Davis

Sensual Romance

Secret Cravings
Publishing

www.secretcravingspublishing.com

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A
Secret Cravings Publishing Book

Sensual Romance

Jake

Copyright ©
2014
 
Susan
Fisher-Davis

E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-301-6

First E-book Publication:
 
August
 
2014
       

Cover design by
Dawné
Dominique

Photo by Eric
Battershell

Edited by Sue
Toth

Proofread by Renee
Waring

All cover art and logo copyright ©
2014 by Secret Cravings Publishing

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RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in
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All characters and events in this
book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is
strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

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www.secretcravingspublishing.com

Dedication

To Amy Valentini, the
best editor anyone could have. I couldn’t have done it without you.

To
Cindy Wilson, a longtime friend and fantastic beta reader.
Thank you.

To my
husband, Rob.
Who never once got
angry when I said to be quiet, I’m writing.

To
Secret Cravings Publishing for believing in me.

Cover Model: Jason Blank

Photography provided by
Eric Battershell

www.ericbattershellphotography.com

Thank you both so much.

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She soon finds herself in a bind when
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JAKE

A Men of
Clifton, Montana novel

Susan
Fisher-Davis

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

Jake Stone stared
down at the ranch house shrouded in darkness. The wind howled around him like a
pack of hungry wolves. From the hill, he had a good view of the house, barns
and surrounding yard. The two security lights came on as dusk fell. His horse,
Midnight, shifted under him, showing impatience at being out in the cold
weather. Puffs of cold air rose from the horse’s nostrils. Jake tugged his
cowboy hat down low on his forehead and pulled the collar up on his sheepskin
coat. It was too damn cold to be here, but he hadn’t been able to stay away.
The snowflakes hit him in the face as sadness beat at his heart. Leaning his
forearms on the saddle horn, he sighed deeply.

“Damn, Hattie, you’ll
be missed,” he muttered.

Twinges in his
heart were making it difficult to breathe.

Hattie Daniels had
been a friend for years, even though she’d been old enough to be his
grandmother, and he’d loved her as one. A sad smile tugged at his lips as he
thought about the cantankerous old woman. She’d worked her ranch until her
dying day, which had been two days ago. Her ranch had always been a successful
one, her Paint horses admired near and far. Jake knew the ranch hands would
take care of the place until Hattie’s granddaughter arrived, but he had to
wonder what would happen to them later.
 

The saddle creaked
in protest as he sat up then rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. Tomorrow
was the funeral and he wondered if Hattie’s granddaughter would even show up.
Jake had never met her and Hattie had rarely spoken of her. According to
Hattie, her granddaughter was her only remaining relative since Hattie’s son
and his wife had died in a car accident five years earlier.

What bothered him
was where in hell had the granddaughter been all this time?

Jake shook his
head. It was none of his business but if she showed up, he would offer his
condolences, and then give her a piece of his mind for not visiting such a
wonderful woman. The entire town of fifteen hundred would likely be there for
the funeral, but he would find the granddaughter if she decided to show up.

He nudged Midnight
forward and rode down to the house.

No lights in the
house made his heart sad. Riding up to the porch, he got down and tied Midnight
to the railing. Since they were close, Hattie had trusted him with a key. Jake
walked through Hattie’s home, hating the silence. He should be hearing Hattie’s
favorite country music station and smelling the homemade bread and rolls she
always had baking in the oven. The woman may have been almost seventy, but she
never slowed down. Not until a heart attack took her life. The only blessing to
be found was when the doctor said she was dead before she hit the barn floor.
Her foreman, Stan Watson, had found her. The older man had been with her for
over forty years. There wasn’t going to be a dry eye at the cemetery. The whole
town was going to
miss
Hattie Daniels.

Jake’s boots
clacked on the hardwood floors as he walked into the living room. He huffed and
sat down in the recliner he always claimed when he visited. Hattie always sat
in the one opposite him. On happier days, he would build a fire, and together
they would sit and talk about the day. The ranch hands loved her, and all were
now unsure of their future. Most of them were over fifty. Jake would take on
those he could, but he already had seven men working for him now.

Putting his head
back, he closed his eyes.

“What’s going to
happen here, Hattie?”

The words seemed to
echo throughout the empty house. It had only been two days since her death and
already the house seemed vacant, like no one had lived there in many years. It
was amazing how a person infused life into their surroundings. The furniture
was old but comfortable. Besides the two plaid recliners facing the fireplace,
a built-in seat was set in front of the window that faced the front yard and
driveway. Cherry hardwood floors ran through the entire home. Hattie had hated
carpeting. She used to say it’s not a farmhouse if it has carpet. It was a spacious
home with a dining room and living room, each with a fireplace. A large foyer
welcomed visitors and the stairs led to six bedrooms, all with working
fireplaces. The house, built in the eighteen hundreds, hadn’t changed much
except for the kitchen appliances. Jake even had to convince Hattie to get
central heat and air.