Silver buckle linings ba.., p.1
Silver Buckle Linings (BA's Cozy Cowboys), page 1
Silver Buckle Linings
BA TORTUGA
Contents
BA’s Cozy Cowboys
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Want More?
About BA
Also Available from BA
Afterword
Silver Buckle Linings
Copyright © 2024 BA Tortuga
Cover Art Illustration by Alexandria Corza. Used with permission.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information electronic address Turtlehat Creatives help@turtlehatcreatives.com
Printed in the United States of America.
ISBN: 978-1-953438-89-8
1st Edition Turtlehat Creatives 2024
To the Poianis and, as always, to my wife.
I’d love to thank my editor, Sue; my alpha readers, Jaymi, Kim, Michael, and NolaKim; and my Ream supporters: Aliana, Angie, Ann Alaskan, Dani, Debbie, Denise, Dyan, Energymomma, Jana, KayMTee, LisaG, Mary, Nita, RhondaN, Sue Brown, and Xaneria Ann.
Y’all make me better.
BA’s Cozy Cowboys
If y’all are interested in warm, joyous novels where the cowboys have kids and love saves the day, please check these BA Tortuga books out:
Back in the Saddle
Cowboy Haven
Cowboy in the Crosshairs
Cowboy Logic
Cowboy’s Law
In the Morning Light
Ranch Manny
Security Detail: an AusTex novel
The Cowboy Contract
The Cowboy Guardian
The Meaning of Life
Trial by Fire: an AusTex novel
Two Cowboys and a Baby
Two of a Kind
Chapter One
The ping on his laptop actually woke Sterling Jordan up from the first sound sleep he’d had since calving season had started. Shit, the way everyone kept texting and calling and pissing and moaning, he would think he didn’t have a foreman on this damn ranch.
He had two.
But that particular chime was enough to make him jump right out of bed and go see, because it was a very special kind of alert.
That noise meant it was about his sister, Sierra.
He pulled on his robe because it was chilly as all get-out, and he moved to the desk he kept in his room, where he kept his personal files and crap he didn’t want his assistant filing somewhere he’d never find it again. Where he put all the stuff the private detective who kept him apprised of Sierra’s life went to die.
“What are you up to now, sis?” he murmured. It was nuts how he still talked to her like she was sitting right there, even though he hadn’t seen her in person since she’d run away from home more than a decade ago.
Sterling missed her face.
There was an email from Annie, simple and straightforward just like her. Call me.
He grabbed the phone, hitting the number he had in his favorites.
Christ, she wasn’t any more talkative now than she’d ever been.
“Hey, Sterling.”
“Hey, lady. What have you got for me?”
“So, I have some news. Your sister has been through an adoption process and has moved to Alaska. She’s working with the Forest Service there.”
He blinked. “‘Adoption’? What the hell does that mean?”
“She gave a newborn male infant up for adoption in La Plata county. The paperwork is about three months old, and—”
“La Plata? Here? She was here?”
“I said the adoption took place there, Sterling.”
“So this is still her legal state of residence?” Shit, what he didn’t know about his own sister could fill the Grand Canyon.
“Yep. She’s never had a job that required her to change it.”
“How did she have a baby without you knowing?”
“She didn’t have to use her real name to have the baby, Sterling, just to give it away.” The idiot was implied.
“I thought you had eyes on her.”
“No, only on her social. She disappears as easily as a raccoon in a trash can.”
He snorted at that. “I hear you. So tell me about the kid.”
“It’s a little boy, born November twenty-sixth. The adoptive father named him Xavier Scott Collier.”
“‘Adoptive’? Do we know who the father is?” He wanted all the information, but he was a linear kind of guy.
“Benjamin Collier. Thirty-one years old. Blond, blue eyes. No criminal record. Army veteran. RN in Durango. Owns ten acres and a three-bedroom, two-bath ranch-style home, paid-off GMC pickup. No significant credit card debt. Decent credit score.”
“But he’s not the biological father?” This was getting weirder by the minute.
“No, the biological father and mother both surrendered their parental rights.”
“Damn.” What the hell had she been thinking? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have taken her baby to raise. That baby boy would want for nothing with him. But she’d turned the little guy over to someone he’d never even heard of?
“Where does she know this guy from?” Army vet? Maybe they’d met in the service, since that was where Sierra had run off to when she was eighteen.
“I’m not sure. She had the baby in the Mercy Hospital in Durango, but there’s no proof she ever lived there. The biological father’s home of record is Seattle, Washington.”
“Damn. Okay.” He chewed his lower lip. “I’ll need the adoptive father’s address.”
“Of course. I’ll text it over. Do you want me to keep watching Sierra or switch to watching Mr. Collier?”
“Keep an eye on Sierra if you can. I’ll check out Collier since he’s only a few hours down the road.” And maybe have a talk with the man about how that baby had family in Aspen who wanted him.
“Fair enough. I love Alaska. I’ll send you anything I get. Have a good one. If you need me to find local help there, text.”
“I will.” He would go in on the quiet, though. Well, as quiet as he could. He pondered driving, since it was only about six hours, but he had a plane at the field here in Aspen, and Durango had a nice tiny airport. His pilot, Jimmy, could arrange things far quicker than he could drive, and the flight would take less than an hour.
He sat there for a long minute, then he went to find someone to make him a cup of coffee. He needed to talk to his assistant, Geoff, have him arrange the flights, and have him keep the lawyers and Dad off his ass.
Thank God Mom was in Rome with her new husband, living the high life and sending pictures of pasta and old churches every day.
Dad was closer, in Jackson Hole, so he’d have to play this close to the chest. Not everyone could be bought, so he needed to suss the guy out first.
If Collier couldn’t be bought, then he’d have to hire someone to make the man’s life a bitch. That baby was a Jordan, no matter what Sierra thought. He was a Jordan, and he deserved that name, and the benefits that having it brought.
He knew that probably made him as bad as Sierra had always accused their parents of being, but so be it. He’d worked hard to make it so no one in his family lacked for anything, and he wasn’t going to let Sierra’s son want.
He called Geoff, because if he had to be up, well. So did everyone else.
Every so often, it was good to be the king.
Chapter Two
Xavier’s cry split the air right about the time Benji had actually fallen asleep.
Fuck him raw.
It shouldn’t be teeth for another month. Maybe gas.
It wasn’t anger; it was pain, so he ran for the nursery.
“What’s wrong, son?” He reached down, relieved as hell that Xavier wasn’t feverish. His baby belly was hard, though, so it was gas.
Juana hadn’t believed him when he said that guacamole wasn’t good for babies. He’d read up on it, though, and it was all about the fat content mixing with the fiber. He was not ready for that kind of food yet. Lord help the wee one.
Those grannies at the Abuelita Daycare were amazing, but they were set in their ways. And when he’d complained to his mom she simply said, “It was good enough for you; it’s good enough for my grandboy.”
“Just how often did you have to massage my belly all night?” he muttered, working poor Xavi with his fingers to try to give him some movement.
Xavi muttered and whined, telling him about it, and Benji nodded.
“I know, sweet boy. I so know. This isn’t fair at all.” He sang and rubbed and rocked, dancing Xavi around in circles in the spare bedroom he’d decorated in ponies and big-eyed cows and leaping baby goats that were somehow terrifying t
Xavi finally burped and farted at the same time, his sharp wail of surprise almost funny. Benji didn’t laugh, though. He crooned to his boy, humming a nursery song he only half-remembered from his own childhood.
Even after thirteen weeks, he still couldn’t quite believe he was a dad. Sierra had appeared out of the blue after he hadn’t heard from her in years, had stayed here for the last six months of her pregnancy, refusing to let him pay her medical bills, insisting that the money he’d saved go into a college fund for the baby. They’d spent hours playing Scrabble and card games they remembered from the service, and laughing.
God, they’d laughed a lot.
She hadn’t stayed long after Xavi’s birth, either. Just a week. Just long enough to finalize everything. Then she’d kissed them both on the cheek and promised to email.
“She does, you know?” he whispered to his son. “About once a week. And every day I send her pictures of your angel face.”
How could he blame Sierra for not being terribly maternal? She knew it. She was smart enough to admit it. And he’d gotten the most amazing thing in his whole life out of it.
Benji had always wanted to have a family. To raise kids in the shadow of Purgatory and Mesa Verde like his folks had. To settle down like his brother and sister.
But he was a gay man in a small western Colorado town, and he wasn’t getting any younger. So adopting seemed like the best thing.
Especially when the situation had dropped into his lap like Sierra was laying an egg.
“He doesn’t want anything to do with the baby,” she’d told him. “And I have this job opportunity up north. I—I’m not mom material, Benji. You know that. What am I going to do?”
What she’d done was offer him the whole world swaddled in a tiny blue blanket.
He’d been in love before; he loved his mom, but Xavi?
This was like addiction and heaven tempered with exhaustion and the knowledge that he didn’t have any idea what he was doing. He was working hard at it, though.
Xavi went to daycare while he was at work, at the same place he’d gone as a kid. His mom watched Xavi when she wasn’t working at the elementary school, and was as in love with him as Benji was. But between his job, his horses, the goats and chickens, and an infant who desperately wanted to be a night owl in a morning robin world…
Xavi watched him with eyes that were altogether too awake for almost midnight.
“Oh, sweet boy. You have to sleep.” He chuckled, though, and headed for his bedroom. They could doze together in his bed, with the glow of the TV bathing them. He had plenty of diapers and wipes in his room.
Hell, he had baby stuff in every room of his house, in his car, and in his cubby at work.
He might even have the world’s tiniest diaper in his wallet.
They cuddled on the big bed, Xavi happy to snuggle up to him, jabbering away. Benji listened, drifting a little, because damn it had been a tough day at work. They were less crazy than they had been a couple of years ago, but there were still a lot of little ones in his part of the four corners who got pretty sick, and it was Benji’s job to help them out.
The idea that he’d bring something home to Xavi terrified him, but he masked up, he washed until his hands were raw, and he did everything he could. So far, his mom had been far more likely to come down with something. The kids she taught seemed to be germ factories.
It kind of made him want to homeschool, even if that would make his mom crazy. He grinned, shaking his head.
“She would beat me, kiddo.”
Xavi blinked at him, cooing softly, tiny fist waving at his face.
“I know, right? It’s hard to imagine your sweet granny beating on me, but she’s a tough old broad, I can tell you. Don’t let her fool you.”
The TV flickered, the sound almost inaudible, but it was enough to lull him. Too bad Xavi was all energy all of a sudden.
Sucking on his fist, kicking like a mule, rocking back and forth in happy baby pose.
His baby boy was not acting sleepy at all.
“Maybe I should put you in your swing.” There would be a screaming fit if he moved Xavi in that direction, but the kid would be asleep by the third rocking tick-tock of the damn thing, and then Benji could doze a bit harder…
He hated making Xavi cry, though. Especially when he was in such a good mood.
So he stayed where he was, letting his boy coo and hum, letting sleep sort of catch him in waves.
Benji had years ahead of him to be the dad of a grown man. He was going to enjoy having this baby.
Even if it killed him.
Chapter Three
The sound hit Sterling a heartbeat before the wheel of the rental truck jerked in his hands, trying its damnedest to toss him off the road. The big pickup wasn’t exactly maneuverable, but Sterling was a damn good driver, and he was not going to let a tire blowout throw him into the river bubbling along like it was laughing at his happy ass.
His security team, and Carson in particular, when they caught up with him, would never let him hear the end of it if he allowed that to happen.
Of course, that was how his day was going, wasn’t it?
“It’s all we have on the lot right now,” the guy at the Hertz had told him when he bitched about the Ford Super Duty. That was what he got for flying in at seven in the morning.
And then he had nowhere to go until after three, when he could check into a hotel, so he’d had to cool his heels until a reasonable hour before he could go out to the Collier place and put his thing down.
He’d ended up in a diner, munching pancakes and bacon, which had been so worth the calories, but the coffee hadn’t been worth the heartburn.
He managed to avoid the river, but the ditch? That was too much to ask, wasn’t it? Dammit…
He sat there a second, staring at his hands on the steering wheel. It was damn dark for eight thirty in the morning on a Saturday.
Had he hit his head? No, he was pretty sure he would remember that. The airbag hadn’t even deployed. So he crawled out of the driver’s door and stared at the damn truck, then checked the sky.
Fuck, those clouds were near-black and menacing. Of course they were.
A bright yellow truck headed down the dirt road, moving nice and careful, and to his shock, pulled over. A smiling guy hopped out, jeans and CU sweatshirt, Broncs cap and work boots, screaming Colorado. “You need help, man?”
“God, yes. I had a blowout. At least I went off the road on the good side huh?”
He got a warm grin that would have been pure sex if the guy hadn’t had bags under his eyes that would fit enough clothes for a sixteen-day cruise. “You did. I’d ask if you had a jack, but we’re going to have to winch you up onto the road first.”
“I have no idea if there’s a jack. It’s a rental.”
“Lord, it is not your day.” The guy chuckled and shook his head. “Let me get you hooked up.”
“Thanks.” He was used to being the one to help, to be honest. This was a novel experience.
“Sure. Anytime, just give me a second to grab my tow rope and pull around.”
That fucking river wasn’t giggling anymore. That was a full-out laugh.
“Thanks.” He shook his head, trying to get it to clear up, the ringing in his ears not so fun.
“Hey.” The guy turned around, came right to him, and those eyes were green as emeralds, flecked with gold. Jesus, that was pretty as all get-out. “Did you hit your head? Let me see your eyes. Did you lose consciousness?”
What? “I don’t think so? I mean, the airbag didn’t go off. I bet it’s more whiplash that rang my bell.”
“Yeah…I don’t love that.” The man’s lips tightened, and he had the urge to reach out and touch them, smooth them out. “Luckily I—”
A sharp crack of lightning hit the road, not ten feet from them. He barely registered the scent of ozone before a clap of thunder almost deafened him. From a weird distance, he heard a baby screaming.
“Fuck me. Grab your stuff, man. My house is right here.”
“Okay.” He fetched his bag and closed up the truck, because he wasn’t going to put this guy and a baby in danger to tow him back on the road. He’d sit in the guy’s truck and call Hertz.
