The Cowboy's Hidden Bride Read online

  The Cowboy’s Hidden Bride

  By Cora Seton

  Copyright © 2018 Cora Seton

  Kobo Edition

  Published by One Acre Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Excerpt from Issued to the Bride One Navy SEAL

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  The Cowboy’s Hidden Bride is the third volume in the Turners v. Coopers series. To find out more, look for the rest of the books in the series, including:

  The Cowboy’s Secret Bride (Volume 1)

  The Cowboy’s Outlaw Bride (Volume 2)

  The Cowboy’s Stolen Bride (Volume 4)

  The Cowboy’s Forbidden Bride (Volume 5)

  Also, don’t miss Cora Seton’s Chance Creek series, the Cowboys of Chance Creek, the Heroes of Chance Creek, the Brides of Chance Creek, and the SEALs of Chance Creek:

  The Cowboys of Chance Creek Series:

  The Cowboy Inherits a Bride (Volume 0)

  The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 1)

  The Cowboy Wins a Bride (Volume 2)

  The Cowboy Imports a Bride (Volume 3)

  The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire (Volume 4)

  The Sheriff Catches a Bride (Volume 5)

  The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Volume 6)

  The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Volume 7)

  The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Volume 8)

  The Cowboy’s Christmas Bride (Volume 9)

  The Heroes of Chance Creek Series:

  The Navy SEAL’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 1)

  The Soldier’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 2)

  The Marine’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 3)

  The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride (Volume 4)

  The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 5)

  The Brides of Chance Creek Series:

  Issued to the Bride One Navy SEAL

  Issued to the Bride One Airman

  Issued to the Bride One Sniper

  Issued to the Bride One Marine

  Issued to the Bride One Soldier

  The SEALs of Chance Creek Series:

  A SEAL’s Oath

  A SEAL’s Vow

  A SEAL’s Pledge

  A SEAL’s Consent

  A SEAL’s Purpose

  A SEAL’s Resolve

  A SEAL’s Devotion

  A SEAL’s Desire

  A SEAL’s Struggle

  A SEAL’s Triumph

  Visit Cora’s website at www.coraseton.com

  Find Cora on Facebook at facebook.com/CoraSeton

  Sign up for my newsletter HERE.

  Chapter One

  “Stay away from my sister,” Liam Turner growled.

  Lance Cooper turned away from the saddle he was oiling, wishing—not for the first time—he lived in any other century except the twenty-first. He’d gladly trade his jeans, T-shirt, boots and cowboy hat for homespun infantry blues if Liam was wearing regimental reds and they were meeting in the middle of a Revolutionary War battlefield.

  Then he could shoot the bastard.

  “I’ll dance with Maya any time I want.” Just because Liam’s dad and grandfather had been deputies, and his brother was a parole officer, that didn’t give him the right to issue orders. Especially after the fact.

  He’d asked Maya, a sweet, fun-loving, brunette beauty, to dance at the wedding they’d all attended a few days ago. Liam’s older brother, Noah, had married Lance’s younger sister, Olivia, much to the chagrin of both families. Lance had partnered with Maya to get a rise out of Liam, but he’d ended up enjoying himself far more than he’d expected. Ever since then he’d had a hard time shaking her from his thoughts.

  Still, she was Liam’s sister. That made her off-limits.

  He couldn’t remember a time when his family hadn’t sparred with his neighbors. The Flying W—Liam’s family’s spread—lay directly across Pittance Creek from Thorn Hill, the ranch that had been in Lance’s family for well over a hundred years. He and Liam had known each other all their lives. Had competed hard on the football field, Liam as quarterback and Lance the star receiver at Chance Creek High.

  They’d squabbled over those assignments. Lance should have been quarterback, and Liam damn well knew it. Lance should have been captain, too. Liam had taken both positions as if he’d been born to them, just because his father had played quarterback a generation earlier. Everyone else went along with it; after all, everyone knew the Turners were one of the prominent families in town, while the Coopers—

  Lance didn’t care what anyone thought of his family.

  “She liked dancing with me. Really liked it,” he taunted Liam, then wished he hadn’t when he considered what Maya would think if she overheard him. Maya wasn’t anything like her brother, and she didn’t deserve his disrespect. She was a Turner, though, he reminded himself. If he was smart, he’d stay clear of her.

  Even if he’d like to get a whole lot closer.

  What had being smart ever gotten him, anyway? Once he’d thought he was on his way to a better life. Back in high school he’d secured a scholarship to Montana State. A history degree would have set him up to teach—and eventually to take over running the local historical museum and archives.

  Hell, if he’d managed it, he’d be one step from that job right now. Everyone knew Warren Hill planned to retire in a year or two. Warren had been the one to help him get that scholarship, and he’d have been more than pleased to pass down the job to him. Maybe it didn’t pay a lot, but as a supplement to a teaching salary, he could have made a living from it. Lance liked his work on his family’s ranch well enough, but he’d never planned to be in charge of it, let alone run it practically single-handedly. Steel wasn’t pulling his weight these days, and their few part-time, low-paid ranch hands could barely take up the slack.

  He wished his father was still alive and running things, keeping the family’s spirits up with his irreverent humor and oversized personality. Somehow everything had gotten done when Dale was around, even if he skirted the law as much as he obeyed it. In a perfect world, Lance would be the one helping out here and there, instead of being swallowed whole by the ranch.

  The Turners had botched it all for him. Torn up his family, sent his father to jail, his mother running into another man’s arms. Left him responsible for paying his sisters’ way—

  “Maya only danced with you because she’s too damn nice to say no,” Liam retorted. “She’s better than you’ll ever be, and she doesn’t need to slum around with a Cooper—”

  Lance’s fist connected with Liam’s face, and Liam staggered several feet back, crashing into one of the posts that held up the roof. He regained his footing and came for Lance. “You’re going to regret that, Cooper—hey!”

  Lance straightened in surprise when Liam’s brother, Noah, burst into the barn, collared Liam and shoved him toward the door.

  “Get home. Get your chores don
e. You left the toolshed a mess.” Noah turned to Lance while Liam stood glowering behind him. “I need a word with you.”

  Lance, unprepared for this turn of events, watched Liam bunch his fists, start forward again, hesitate, turn and stride out the door.

  Noah glanced over his shoulder and nodded when his brother was gone. Looking back to Lance, he said, “Let’s talk about supplies.”

  “Supplies?” Lance repeated.

  “Now that I’m married to Olivia, I propose we gang up and put in our families’ orders together. Feed, antibiotics, you name it. We’ll save cash. What do you think?”

  “What do I think? I think you’re out of your mind. Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon or something?”

  Lance still couldn’t believe Olivia had married him, or that the happy couple had moved into a cabin on Cooper property. He couldn’t believe Noah thought he had the right to any say in the running of Thorn Hill.

  Was the world spinning backward?

  Sure felt like it.

  Noah’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “I’m not leaving the Flying W in this drought. Things are too precarious, and you know it. Look at the way things are around here. Thorn Hill is in bad shape, and it’s a miracle your family still owns it at all after the years you were away and Dale was—”

  “Watch it.” Lance wasn’t about to listen to Noah badmouth his father. Maybe Dale had gotten in trouble—multiple times. Maybe he’d landed in jail and died there. Lance had been as surprised as anyone else to find out he’d managed to hold on to the spread during the years the rest of them had gone to Idaho. He’d never forget the phone call from the lawyer who let him know he and his siblings had inherited the place.

  At the time he’d been happy to come back to Chance Creek.

  Now the spread felt like a prison with its endless rounds of work and repairs. There was no time—or money—to pursue the twin careers he’d once thought were in his grasp.

  “Let’s sit down and go over the numbers,” Noah argued.

  “Can’t.” It was nearly five. He was due at the history museum for a Historical Society meeting in a couple of hours, and first he needed to shower, then go get a burger. Tonight’s planning session would focus on the Revolutionary War re-enactment the group did every year on July Fourth, and it was about the only thing getting him through the day right now. He’d taken part every year since he’d been a kid—except the years his mother, Enid, had taken them to Idaho and left them there with her sister. It was one of the best things about returning to Chance Creek.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Noah demanded.

  “Got somewhere to be.”

  If he’d known Noah Turner would be trying to boss him around on his own ranch, maybe he’d never have come back.

  “You’re blind if you can’t see what’s coming.” A muscle worked in Noah’s jaw. “Maybe you don’t want me interfering, but this is still Olivia’s home. My home now, too. Like it or not, I’ve got an interest in how it’s run.”

  “How would you like it if I told you how to run your ranch?”

  “We’re not talking about the Flying W.”

  Of course not. The Flying W probably had plenty of money. It was probably raking it in hand over fist. The Turners always did everything right.

  “I don’t have time for this.” Lance put away the saddle and wiped his hands on a rag.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to Steel.” Noah headed for the door, his impatience evident.

  “My brother’s not going to say anything different,” Lance called after him, but Noah was already gone. He was right about one thing: this drought was taking its toll, and there was no rain in the forecast. The temperatures had been baking since the beginning of May. Now it was June, and there was no relief in sight.

  That didn’t give Noah an excuse to try to ride roughshod over them, though. He might think his marriage to Olivia gave him control of Cooper land, but that wasn’t the way things worked.

  And he wouldn’t give Liam the satisfaction of taking orders from Noah, either.

  Lance paused. Speaking of Liam, he didn’t get to dictate who he spent time with. Maybe he should stop and see Maya on his way to town.

  After all, Liam had hit on Tory at the wedding. Lance hadn’t seen his sister in years before she arrived for the celebration, and he knew damn well Liam hadn’t been harboring some secret crush on her. Liam had done it to get back at Lance.

  He’d get what was coming to him.

  Lance wouldn’t mind one bit spending more time with Maya Turner, anyway. Unlike her pain-in-the-ass brothers, she was funny and kind and seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. If their families hadn’t been at each other’s throats all the time, they might have been friends. But even though Noah had married Olivia, their families were as estranged as ever. Ever since the Founder’s Prize had been announced, the rivalry between them had come to a simmer. Both families wanted—needed—to win that prize, a vacant ranch that abutted the northern end of their properties. Whoever controlled the Ridley property controlled Pittance Creek, a vital commodity for both their spreads. Especially in a drought.

  His family had taken a big step toward winning when they pulled together a bid to upgrade Chance Creek High—with the help of Carl Whitfield and his wealthy friends. Unfortunately, the Turners had countered by raising money to save the town’s library—and were doing most of the renovations themselves.

  They were tied for the prize. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Noah had offered for Olivia’s hand, and Olivia had accepted.

  Since their wedding everything had been off-kilter. Lance had no idea what else they could do to win the Founder’s Prize, and he dreaded the day when the Turners made their next move and left them behind.

  If hanging out with Maya drove Liam around the bend, he’d be glad to do it more often. She ran a fruit and vegetable stand at the end of the lane to the Flying W. He’d heard a rumor she was selling baked goods, too, these days. He could grab a slice of pie to go with his burger. First, though—

  He needed that shower.

  Thirty minutes later he was heading for the front door.

  “Be back later,” he called to the house in general, not knowing or caring if anyone heard.

  “Where are you off to?” His great-aunt Virginia appeared in the entryway to the living room, stiff but erect as she surveyed him with a sniff.

  Lance reluctantly slowed his pace. “Town,” he said shortly. No way he was telling Virginia his plans. She hated the Turners worse than the rest of them put together.

  “You’re up to trouble,” she pronounced. “You should be up to winning us the Founder’s Prize. What’s taking so long?”

  “I’m working on it,” he lied and kept going.

  “Work harder,” she shouted after him.

  In this heat even her pies were wilting.

  Maya Turner sat in a metal folding chair behind the large table that made up her family’s farm stand. She’d set it up under a white awning early in the morning and had been stuck here all day selling her wares. The table groaned under an array of vegetables, fruits and berries, but the real draw these days was her cooking: fresh bread, muffins, tarts, cookies and pies of all varieties. Normally she was proud of the display, but the temperature had hit ninety degrees by ten this morning and was only getting higher. Beads of sweat kept tracing down the back of her neck under her thick hair. The awning’s shade did little to cut the heat, and she’d have to be careful getting up from this chair the way she was sticking to it.

  She kept having to wipe her hands off on a towel she’d brought for that purpose in order not to ruin the handstitched lace cap she was working on between customers. It was based on one she’d seen in an illustration in a Revolutionary War history book, and this was the only time she got to work on it without her family members picking on her for it.

  Her brothers and sister rarely came out to the farm stand, and when a customer came, she could easily shove it into her workbasket before they manag
ed to park their vehicles and exit them.

  She wasn’t ashamed of the project; she’d always managed neat stitches and was an expert at re-creating patterns. Still, Stella rolled her eyes at the frivolity of her hobby. Liam made fun of her for wanting to live in the past, and Noah got that pinched look he always had these days.

  At least now she knew why that was. This morning she’d overheard him talking to Stella when they thought they were alone in the kitchen.

  “The price of beef is down,” he’d said bluntly. “This drought isn’t going to help our prospects. We need more money.”

  “We’re all doing the best we can,” Stella had told him.

  “We need to do more.”

  “Maybe if you spent more time here instead of hanging around your wife’s ranch—”

  “That’s not fair. I’m not working any less here; I’m just working more all around, and you know that.”

  Stella had sighed. “You opened up a can of worms when you married Olivia—”

  “I expect that kind of talk from Liam but not from you.”

  “I’m on your side, okay?” Stella had said. “You’ve taken on too much. You’re already working as a parole officer. And you should lighten up on Liam. His new plan could be the answer to all our problems.”

  “Certifying the ranch as organic? It’s an interesting idea, I’ll grant you that, but it’s kind of a long shot, don’t you think?”

  Maya knew what he meant. She’d looked into the process after Liam had brought it up the other day. Turned out he’d been looking into it for nearly a year, which went a long way to explaining why he was always so cranky lately. Getting the ranch certified would take a long series of steps, but at the end of it they’d be positioned to enter a niche market. It wasn’t a bad idea. But it would be a lot of additional work.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Stella had said to Noah. “He’s going to need your help, though. He’s already stretched thin running the ranch. I’ve got my secretary job, and Maya runs the farm stand.”

  “Maybe if Maya spent less time fooling around sewing useless stuff and more time cooking those pies, that stand would be worth the trouble.”