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Claiming His Cowgirl

Crawley Creek Ranch 3

By: Lori King

Text Copyright © August 2015 Lori King

Art and Logo © Copyright Lori King Books

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-9861718-5-7

Edited by: Ekatarina Sayanova

Red Quill Editing

Cover by: Jess Buffett

Jess Buffett Graphic Designs

Photograph by: Royal Touch Photography

Model: Chase Borst

Published by: Lori King Books

EBooks are not transferrable.

This book is intended for the purchaser’s sole use. Sharing, or

downloading to other individuals or devices is illegal.

This work is fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or

events is purely coincidental. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of

this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever

without written permission of the author, except in the case of

quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Blurb:

Her sanctuary…

Lauren Kensington found refuge at Crawley Creek as a foster

child. She was not looking for love but she found it just in time to

get her heart broken. She’s spent nearly two decades creating a

successful life for herself far from the wilds of North Dakota, but a

family wedding draws her back. When she crosses paths with her

long lost love, feelings that burned out are reignited.

His redemption…

Vincent Rhone has walked a tough path, but he’s overcome his

obstacles to become a better man. His only regret is pushing Lauren

out of his life in an effort to protect her from his wild nature. How

will she react when he tells her his deepest desire is to hold her

again?

Their second chance…

Forced to lean on each other when nature strikes, these two

heartbroken lovers will confront their past. Will they cause each

other more heartache, or will this cowboy finally be able to claim his

cowgirl?

Dedication:

For Chris Walker, Lisa Carlton, and Karen DiGaetano. You are

the best beta readers I could ask for.

For Ekatarina Sayanova. You’ve been the ace in my pocket for

over a year now, and I can’t ever thank you enough.

For Jess Buffett. Each time I ask you to create a cover, you

manage to reach into my head and pull out magic.

For Stacey Price. Who is a wiz at formatting even when it’s my

fault something’s not right.

For KD Jones, Bryce Evans, Caitlyn O’Leary, and Elle Boone.

As the five Musketeers we cause chaos, curse like sailors, and write

dirty, but damn we have fun doing it.

And a big thank you to one my Brat Pack members: Robin Smith

who helped me name Dr. Jeanette Hall.

July 26 – Wedding Countdown T-minus 14 days

“Tornado on the ground in Mobile, Alabama.”

The words came out of Lauren’s mouth in a near monotone

cadence. She’d been through this so many times that she no longer

had an emotional reaction to emergency situations. She just accepted

them and handled them. It made being an emergency management

coordinator the perfect job for her.

“Contacting recovery out of Montgomery. We’ll have supplies

readied and volunteers rolling by twenty-three hundred,” Jesse

Kravitz responded just as calmly, his fingers flying over the keyboard

in front of him.

“Verify with authorities where they’re positioning the command

center before sending directions this time, Jesse,” she said gently,

giving him a pointed look.

He flushed under the reprimand. “Yes ma’am.”

Just a week ago, their volunteers had been delayed in providing

necessary help to the victims of a tornado emergency when Jesse sent

them in the wrong direction. She’d quickly corrected the error, but

the delay was a blight on the young man’s record. It was her job to

ensure people got the help they needed, and the only way she could

do that was if her employees were as efficient as she was. She liked

Jesse as a person, and they’d become fast friends, but if he made

another mistake like that she’d have no qualms about firing him.

In spite of their military-style manner, they weren’t owned or

operated by the government. Fast-Aid was a private quick response

team, fully funded by local corporations and philanthropic residents.

She was the coordinator for the entire Southern region. Her base of

Claiming His Cowgirl

operations was in Little Rock, Arkansas, but she managed volunteers

in nine states.

When she wasn’t coordinating medical assistance and supplies,

she was in her fully remodeled kitchen creating edible artwork for the

handful of clients she regularly provided event catering to.

Emergency management was her career, but cooking was her

passion.

“Second tornado reported just outside of Montgomery. We may

have to maintain the first team in stasis until we determine the extent

of the need,” Jesse reported.

“Call in Birmingham unless the storms are continuing their

trajectory. We’ll need Montgomery as home base most likely. I have

to make a few calls to follow up on the Tulsa situation, but I’ll check

in with you before I leave this evening,” she said, leaving Jesse to his

work and securing herself behind her closed office door. She quickly

pulled up her personal email to reread the invitation she’d received

earlier in the day.

Drannon asked me to get your mailing address so that he could

send you a written invitation for the wedding, but as usual, I forgot.

Sorry. I promised him I’d give you the info personally since I

screwed up. The wedding is on August 8 at seven. Your old room is

ready and waiting for you. Let me know when you’re flying up, and

one of us will meet you at the airport. Later-Hawke

Hawthorne “Hawke” Kapshaw was like a baby brother to her,

but they shared no blood connections. They were both taken in by

Abe and Sera Crawley as children, him as a foster son, and her as a

stray. For whatever reason, they’d connected and become lifelong

friends. She left North Dakota behind eighteen years ago as a young,

naïve girl with a broken heart and a streak of stubborn determination

a mile wide. She had no idea what path her life would take. She only

knew that she had to escape the memories of her shitty mother’s fists,

and put distance between her and the man who broke her heart.

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An image of Vin filled her head, and she sucked in a deep

breath, willing it away. She didn’t have time for reminiscing. Her

fingers dashed across the keys, and she clicked send before she could

reconsider. It was a big risk going back again, but she knew Drannon

would be happy to see her. Perhaps, this time, she’d get the closure

she needed.

Closing her email, she picked up the phone and called the Tulsa

team, pushing all thoughts of Vincent Rhone and Crawley Creek

Ranch out of her brain and focusing on her job.

~ ~ ~ ~

Vin figured out he was screwed the moment Lacy started

chattering about lilac-colored ties and flowers. He’d agreed to be

Drannon’s best man because he loved the guy as if they were blood

brothers, but that didn’t mean he wanted to make a fool out of

himself.

“You look great, Vin!” Lacy gushed, hurrying across the store to

adjust the purple vest and tie under his dark grey suit.

“You’re not seriously going to make me wear purple, are you?”

he groaned. This was the last thing on his wish list for a Saturday

activity.

She hesitated, and then patted his shoulder. “I just wanted to get

a look at the suit with the lilac under it. I haven’t really decided.

Drannon’s insisting on the cream color—”

The door beside them popped open and her fiancé, Drannon

Russo, appeared wearing an identical charcoal colored suit, but

underneath, he wore a vanilla ice cream colored satin vest. “Damn

right. I told you I’m not wearing the purple one.”

“Oh, the cream looks lovely, too,” Lacy said, moving to her

fiancé’s side and adjusting his tie as well. Unlike when she patted

Vin, Lacy made more of an effort to caress her man’s chest through

his clothes. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. It’s just

clothes.”

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Claiming His Cowgirl

“Exactly. It’s just clothes. So why do they have to be purple?”

Vin grumbled.

“Lilac,” she corrected. “And the idea is for the groom and his

best man to complement the bride and her maid of honor.”

“You don’t have a maid of honor,” Drannon said with a frown.

“Yes I do. I asked Franki to stand in for me. She was really

touched by it because she won’t have the chance to stand with

Vivienne now, and I think it assured her of her acceptance into the

family.” Lacy reached for another vest that looked almost identical to

the one Drannon was already wearing and held it up against his suit.

“This one might look better. I like the fleur de lis pattern on it better

than the pinstripe. I wonder if it comes in lilac.”

A shopgirl who was hovering nearby jumped to bring over a

book of fabric samples, and Drannon and Vin were quickly relegated

to wall decoration as Lacy and the girl discussed possible

combinations for the big day.

“You realize she’s going to put us in purple, right?” Vin said,

shoving his brother with his shoulder.

Drannon groaned, “Fuck.”

“You know, you could still try to convince her to go to Vegas.”

Drannon shook his head, looking dejected. “Already tried. She

says it’s important for the community to see that Crawley Creek

Ranch is here to stay, and that there’s a new generation running it

securely.”

Vin nodded in agreement. “It’ll definitely make the old timers

more comfortable with our little band of misfits.”

“Come on, let’s get out of these monkey suits. I think I’m

allergic to this tie.” Drannon headed back into a fitting room. Vin

laughed as he went back into his own space and changed his clothes.

He didn’t mind standing up for his brother because he could see

how happy Lacy made Drannon. He knew the day Lacy showed up

on the ranch that there was chemistry between the two, and it didn’t

take them long to connect and build an unbreakable bond.

To her credit, Lacy was a beautiful woman both inside and out.

With long, red hair and gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes, she

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Lori King

reminded Vin of their foster mother, Sera. She had a strong core of

beliefs and a wicked wit. The two would have been fast friends.

As it was, Sera had passed away a few years back, followed

closely by her husband, Abe. The two had created a sanctuary for

foster children, and Vin always knew he’d never be able to repay

them for their kindness. It still hurt to think about them, but he was

slowly healing.