WILDHORSE RANCH BROTHERS

  Wild Ride

  Wild Heart

  Wild Dream

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JULY 2023

  Copyright © 2023 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

  Cover design by Cover Art by Mayhem Cover Creations.

  www.relaypub.com

  BLURB

  Wild horses couldn’t tear these hearts apart…

  Trevor Wild will do anything to save his beloved Wildhorse Ranch… Including starting up a trendy glamping side business—something as alien to him as a day out of the saddle.

  Luckily, smart and sassy Sabrina Hearthstone is an expert. Trevor’s hired her to live on the ranch while she sets up a glamping experience on his land. But it doesn’t take long for Sabrina to disrupt his life, in more ways than one. Trevor’s got a ranch to save, and the last thing he needs is to fall for a beautiful woman. But his heart seems to have other plans…

  Sabrina might be an expert at revamping, but she has no intention of making over gorgeous cowboy Trevor Wild, even if she is wildly attracted to him. He’s stuck in his ways, stubborn as a mule… But sexier than any man she’s ever known. When they aren't butting heads, they're trading kisses that set her heart racing, and leave her weak in the knees.

  But Trevor still doesn't trust her, and Sabrina can't keep waiting for him to realize she's more than just some city girl. When disaster strikes, she'll have to make a choice…

  But can she be happy without her Wild man?

  MAILING LIST

  Thank you for reading “Wild Ride”

  (Wildhorse Ranch Brothers Book 1)

  Read FIVE full-length romances by USA Today best-selling author Leslie North for FREE! Over 600+ pages of best-selling romance with hundreds of FIVE STAR REVIEWS!

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  CONTENTS

  1. Trevor

  2. Trevor

  3. Sabrina

  4. Trevor

  5. Sabrina

  6. Sabrina

  7. Trevor

  8. Sabrina

  9. Trevor

  10. Sabrina

  11. Trevor

  12. Sabrina

  13. Trevor

  Epilogue

  End of Wild Ride

  Free book offer

  Thank you!

  Make an Author’s Day

  About Leslie

  Sneak Peek: Wild Heart

  Sneak Peek: Snowed In with the Rancher

  Also by Leslie

  1

  TREVOR

  “That her?” Trevor Wild asked his brother. The question rose from his lips like vapor, his warm breath chilled by contact with the early morning air.

  He already knew the answer to his question, but he wanted to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating the pretty blonde woman standing in front of the old bunkhouse with her arms crossed. She appeared to be in deep contemplation of the woodpile he had been gathering there all season, and the intensity of her concentration made her blind to everything else—including the two men watching her from behind the fence across the property.

  “That’s her,” his brother confirmed. Trent hitched the front of his Wranglers up and blew casually on the steaming mug of coffee he had snagged from the ranch kitchen. Trevor, sleep-deprived from his long drive home from the conference, felt a surge of jealousy at his twin’s morning alertness. “Sabrina Hearthstone, Wildhorse Ranch’s very own Glamping Coordinator. I’d say it has a certain ring to it, but I’m not sure half of those words were meant to exist in the English language.”

  Trevor cringed in private agreement, the shadow of his hat brim concealing his reaction to the distasteful word. Glamping, a portmanteau of glamorous camping, was not a concept he had ever imagined, let alone expected, to put into place at Wildhorse. At thirty-two, he was sure life had more unpleasant revelations in store for him, but whether Sabrina Hearthstone might be the blonde-headed instigator of an impending string of glamping-related disasters remained to be seen.

  “Looks like you’re going to have your hands full with this one,” Trent remarked, as Sabrina pulled her hair back into a ponytail and dropped to a squat. He said it in the tone of a horseman surveying a particularly unruly filly. Trevor wondered what his brother had gone through already with this woman; still, there was no mistaking the slight note of admiration in Trent’s tone.

  “Looks like she’s got her hands plenty full already,” Trevor said. He squinted across the lawn at Sabrina, who appeared to be dismantling the woodpile and hauling it up onto the porch. “What the hell is she doing?”

  That scrap was probably lousy with splinters—not to mention pill bugs and spiders—yet she didn’t shrink from grappling with it barehanded. She might as well have been holding the front door wide open and inviting the pests to brunch in the goddamn bunkhouse living room.

  “No idea,” Trent replied, before amending, “I thought she said something about wanting the scraps for planters or a coffee table or something. You know, like a craft project.”

  Trevor sighed and cuffed his brother on the shoulder. “Thanks for keeping an eye on the place while I was away.” He tipped his hat to keep the sun off his eyes. “You want to stick around for a bit? Give me the rundown on what’s been going on?”

  “Sure. Not like I have a job or anything.”

  “Whatcha got, Sheriff, one in the drunk tank?” Trevor tried not to smirk.

  “Two, actually,” said Trent. “But they’ll sleep late.” He elbowed Trevor, and the two shared a chuckle.

  “You heard from Charlie?” asked Trevor, when Trent’s laughter died down.

  “Can’t say I have. Guess he’s busy with training.”

  Trevor stifled a snort. He had a few things he could say about that, most of them sarcastic, and not entirely kind. Like, how hard could their brother Charlie be training when every week the tabloids caught him out on the town with some cheerleader on his arm, a blonde one week, a brunette the next? But that wasn’t fair. Charlie had busted ass to get where he was, star quarterback of the Texas Teamsters. If he chose to enjoy the perks, that was his business. And everyone else’s, if you asked TMZ.

  “It’s too quiet without him,” he said instead. “Remember when he used to get up at 5AM, and rush that tackling dummy out in the yard?”

  “Baaaah,” hollered Trevor, miming a tackle. “You can just say you miss him.”

  “Who says I do?”

  “That look on your face, those sad-puppy eyes—”

  “Sad puppy—I’ll show you sad puppy.” The grim line of Trevor’s mouth quirked up a little. “Okay, Sheriff. You go get your drunks. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “I’ll be around. And get yourself some coffee!” Trent hollered the suggestion at Trevor’s retreating back. “Something tells me you’re going to need it!”

  Something tells me you’re right. What he wouldn’t do for a cup as black as Sabrina Hearthstone was fair. Despite feeling dead on his feet, Trevor loped the length of the yard to reach the freelance glamping coordinator he’d hired. She glanced up when she heard his boots, and started talking almost before he was within earshot.

  “Oh! I’m so glad you’re here, Trent. Do you mind helping me with this monster?” Sabrina wiped her forehead and indicated the log giving her trouble. “It’s kind of funny-shaped, see, with a bump on the end. I can’t get a grip on it…”

  Trevor doubted Sabrina’s freckled, toothpick-thin arms would be much help wrangling the awkward-shaped log, but he had never turned down a woman in distress. “Sure.” He pulled on his work gloves and stooped to wrestle the other end of the log into his arms. “But I’m not Trent.”

  “Huh?” Sabrina glanced up to take him in again, and dropped the side of the log she was holding. Trevor grimaced and set his end down, too. The way his mouth naturally settled in a frown, the lines only deepening when he was annoyed or working, distinguished him from his more approachable twin brother.

  “No…I mean, wow. You really aren’t, are you?” Now that Sabrina had halted operations, Trevor straightened to regard her in turn. The way she looked him over, with eyes as wide and summer-blue as the Texas sky, made him acutely aware of just how close she was standing.

  “No. I really am not,” he agreed. He wondered how much Trent had let her get away with while he was gone. Sabrina Hearthstone had a face as pretty as an angel’s—pair that with her ridiculously tight, stone-washed designer jeans, and he doubted his brother had been willing to deny her much. She was the living, breathing embodiment of a country song sweetheart—the worshipped, vaunted city girl—and for the first time, Trevor contemplated how much trouble he might be in, having her on his property.

&nb
sp; “So, you must be Trevor,” Sabrina deduced. “The owner.” She extended a slender hand, and Trevor removed one of his gloves before taking it in his own. He wondered what his callouses must feel like rubbing against her soft skin. She didn’t draw back immediately, so maybe they weren’t too bad. They held the handshake a few seconds longer than strictly necessary before Sabrina withdrew and flushed a little.

  “Sorry I mistook you for your brother,” she apologized. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d be back today.”

  “I keep to a schedule,” Trevor stated. “Which is something you’re throwing off already, Miss Hearthstone.” He nodded toward the scraps she had accumulated on the porch. “I’m tossing that wood out in the quarterly clear-out.” She stared at him blankly. “That’s tomorrow. You want to keep any of it for arts and crafts, I expect you to go through it all today.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Wild, but this isn’t for arts and crafts,” Sabrina protested. She gestured toward her woodpile selections. “This is upcycling! I’m going to make good use of this stuff. If we want to attract customers and garner favorable reviews, then we’re going to need to liven up the living spaces with a few rustic decorations. Planters for the doorways. Window boxes. Nightstands.”

  Upcycling. Great. Another made-up word. Trevor hooked his thumbs in his belt and didn’t budge an inch, predicting his silence would be enough to settle the matter. Generally speaking, it was. Today, however, his natural powers of intimidation appeared to be diminished after the long drive. Sabrina had her hands on her hips, her dark pink lips pursed in challenge. For the life of him he couldn’t decide if her expression was meant to convey a fight or invite a kiss.

  “And it’s going to take me longer than a day to figure out what I can and can’t use here,” she clarified.

  “You signed a contract,” he said. “And that contract clearly states you agree to adhere to Wildhorse Ranch’s rules and schedule.”

  “And how about coffee?” Sabrina started up the porch steps, pausing halfway to smile back at Trevor. “I assume there’s room in your schedule for that?”

  “There might be,” said Trevor. “If you think you’ve earned it.”

  “I’d say I have. I’m covered in sweat.” She glanced back again. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sweating.”

  Sabrina laughed. “Come on.”

  Trevor’s frown deepened. Sabrina’s offer struck him as a tactical maneuver—her way of trapping him in a longer discussion—but he followed her up the steps to the bunkhouse kitchen despite his suspicion. He couldn’t help noticing the sequins studded around the back pockets of her jeans. The detail—and only that detail—drew his attention to Sabrina’s pert rear. She sure could fill a pair of impractical pants. The denim might as well have been painted onto those shapely, athletic legs of hers. He doubted she could fully bend over in them, but he wouldn’t have minded seeing her try.

  “You were at a conference, right? How did it go?” Sabrina asked perkily as she took the bunkhouse pot off the burner and poured them each a mug of coffee. Trevor hovered in the doorway, studying her change in expression and wondering if he was being taken for a ride. She certainly had the cheerful demeanor to be successful in her chosen profession…if that profession actually existed. Adventure coordinator—who came up with that crap?

  “It went fine,” he said. The equine breeding conference had given him a lot to chew on, and he felt cautiously optimistic about the future of Wildhorse’s breeding program for the first time since he had taken a chance and hired Sabrina.

  “Yeah? Only fine?” Sabrina pretended to pout.

  “Pretty good, actually.” Trevor’s response was grudging. His struggles with the ranch were none of her business, none of anyone’s but his. He hadn’t even liked calling on Trent to help Sabrina move in. Wildhorse Ranch was all Trevor’s, and he’d rather have seen to the matter himself—but the conference couldn’t wait.

  “Milk? Sugar? Hazelnut creamer?”

  “None of the above.” Trevor took his coffee, walked outside, and settled back against the porch railing. Sabrina leaned on the doorframe, pursing her kissable lips to blow steam off her own mug. She took her coffee black, same as him. Trevor pulled a sour face to hide his surprise. He’d expected she’d bogart the ranch hands’ whole sugar stash, not to mention their month’s supply of creamer.

  Sabrina sipped her coffee, and her smile turned wicked. “So, I was thinking—”

  And here came her pitch. Trevor cut her off before she could get rolling.

  “I got in touch with you because Wildhorse Ranch needs another source of income,” he began.

  “Obviously.” If she was annoyed by his interruption, she didn’t let it show.

  “But my quarter horse breeding program is still my main focus. It’s what we’ve done here for three generations, and it’s the whole reason I went to that conference. It’s the heart and soul of this ranch, and that isn’t changing.” Trevor scowled, hoping to drive his next point home. “So, I don’t want our programs intersecting, Miss Hearthstone. You’ll coordinate your campers and keep them out of my hair, and I’ll go about my business as usual. Are we clear on that?”

  “That won’t work,” said Sabrina, calm but firm, like a teacher. Trevor bristled at her air of assurance, but she kept on talking like nothing was wrong. “They’re not my campers. They’re glampers. And they’re ours. And what they’re paying for is an authentic ranch experience—or at least, a taste of one. How will they get that if our paths never cross?”

  Trevor scowled. This conversation was spiraling out of control. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, and turned to go. He’d just set down his coffee when Sabrina cleared her throat.

  “I’m not done,” she said. “You just got through telling me you are Wildhorse Ranch. It’s all yours, your baby. Did I hear that right?”

  “That’s right. All mine. And last time I checked, that means what I say goes. Which means my stables, my horses, are off-limits to—”

  “What it means is, you’re part of that Wildhorse experience. And so are your horses. It’s called Wildhorse Ranch. Would you pay for a Wildhorse adventure with no horses involved?”

  Trevor pressed his lips together. She had him there.

  “Listen,” she went on. “I don’t want to step on your toes. But if you want those five-star Yelp reviews—if you want repeat business and profit—you need to let your customers experience the horses. You tell me what barns to stay out of, and I will, but judging by the tour Trent gave me, there’s plenty of stable space for us all. Besides,” Sabrina continued, flipping her hair over one shoulder, “contrary to what you may think, I’ve been around horses before. I happen to know that most ranch animals thrive on attention. The more love they get, the happier, more fulfilled lives they lead. You wouldn’t deny your horses that, would you?”

  Trevor didn’t like that she was pushing so hard already, but he had to admit she’d made some good points. Still, he couldn’t just cave to her, or she’d think she was in charge. He needed to win back some ground—and what better time to bring up his rules? He withdrew a folded set of documents from the inner pocket of his jacket and passed them to her.

  She blinked. “What are these?”

  “I’ll consider your ideas,” said Trevor. “But you need to stick to the schedule I’ve laid out for you.” He allowed himself a moment to privately relish the look of horror that crossed her face. He had guessed from the start that she was the type of woman to flout the rules, but he intended to put an end to that behavior before it began. He sipped his coffee and watched as Sabrina riffled through the multi-page document.