NotoriousWoman

Notorious Woman

Annabelle
Weston

Book three in the Desert Heat series

Kate has a bad reputation. Since
her pa’s murder, she’s been a whip-wielding, ball-busting hellcat, determined
to prove she can run a ranch just as well as any man. Then her little sister
goes and hires a new foreman—a foreman who makes Kate tingle in places she
shouldn’t be tingling, not if she wants to keep up a tough façade. When Jake takes
liberties by kissing her—never mind
where
he kisses her—she clocks him
in the chin then hopes he’ll kiss her some more. What’s happening to her?

Jake isn’t just at the ranch to
help run the place. He made a bet he could tame Kate, a bet that would give him
the money he needs for his own piece of land. He never expected her to be so
ornery…or taste so sweet. And he never expected to like her more when she’s
cantankerous. Unfortunately, it’s a bet he can’t afford to lose, even though
he’s already lost his heart.

Inside Scoop:
This historical romp is a sexy Western
take on
The Taming of the Shrew.

A
Romantica®
Western erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Notorious Woman

Annabelle Weston

Dedication

To Sylvia M. Your courage inspires me.

Acknowledgements

A big thanks to Dar Albert for the wonderfully evocative
covers in the Desert Heat series. To Carrie and the editorial staff at Ellora’s
Cave, much appreciation for your hard work bringing
Desert Heat
to my
readers.

Chapter One

Arizona Territory, 1883

Men told tall tales around the campfire and this one was a
whopper in Jake Madden’s opinion. A rancher’s daughter by the name of Kate
Crowley had gained the reputation of being the meanest-tempered woman in the
territory. Talk was she’d given a feller such a tongue-lashing he’d hightailed
it to the mountains and never returned.

“Aw, heck,” Jake said, watching the campfire lick the sides
of the cast-iron pot of beans. If he could break the orneriest bronco, and he
did a damn good job of it if anyone asked, he could manage a feisty woman. “I
can tame her.”

The other men went silent as a prayer meeting.

Shorty, the camp cook, bit a piece off the stick he’d been
chewing on and spit it into the crackling fire. Sparks flew out, nearly
catching him on the tips of his worn-out boots. “I’ve got fifty dollars says
you can’t.”

The other fellas whooped and hollered.

“Shorty, you ain’t got fifty dollars to buy a new pair of
boots!” One of the men snorted.

Jake was all of twenty-five years and hoping to buy his own
piece of land and become a cattleman. As much as he loved the life of a drover,
he wanted to settle down one day to a place of his own. Working cattle and
busting mustangs hadn’t given him the nest egg he needed. A friendly wager was
an opportunity not to be missed.

Besides, a feisty wench sounded like a challenge no man
should back down from. Make the days and especially the nights a lot more fun.

He eyed the assembly of cowpokes, all good, hardworking men.
But none of them were settled. Not one man—not even the old-timers—had a
female’s breast to lay his head on at the end of the day. And Lulu at the Gray
Horse didn’t count.

He tilted his head to the left, cracking his neck, and then
to the right to even out his discomfort. “I’ll have her calling me ‘sir’ and sharing
my bed by roundup,” he boasted with confidence. And he meant it.

The foreman—called Texas Jack—guffawed. “You have any
experience with women?”

“I had a ma, God rest her soul,” Jake replied with a nod and
a pat to his heart.

The men exchanged glances and shook their heads.

“Reining in an ill-tempered female is a bit different, my
boy. A man’s ma is apt to not find fault, whereas this Crowley woman is sure to
tear into a fella for the slightest shortcoming.”

Jake’s jaw clamped tight with irritation. Calling him a boy,
which they did often, made him want to punch them in their rotted teeth but he
didn’t let it show. Instead he grinned from ear to ear.

“You willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Jake
could already count them silver coins. They’d buy him a parcel of land and a
prime herd of cows. Not too soon after, a fine strapping toddler would wobble
across the porch with his mama—not a spitfire, no sirree, but a sweet-tempered
woman—standing by his side.

Texas Jack snapped his yap shut but there were others
willing to lay down their bets.

Bill Henderson counted the money, plainly in awe when he
said, “There’s over two thousand dollars here.”

A fortune, Jake reckoned, and a bet he’d never be able to
cover. He’d no doubt the Crowley woman
would
bend to his will.

“Consider it as good as mine,” he said with confidence. He
stood and cupped his crotch. “Ain’t no woman out there who can resist this
charm.”

“By roundup,” Shorty reminded him, a brow raised. “That’d be
less than six weeks.”

“I’ll need to take some time off,” he told Texas Jack.
“Gonna give the lady all my attention.”

Jack nodded, his eyelids drooping. “We can spare you for a
while.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jake replied, slapping on his Stetson.
He looked around the group. Whom did he trust the most not to run off with a
small fortune, his future? His gaze settled on the man they all respected.
“Bill, you hold on to the bets.”

“Sure thing, Jake.” Bill collected the coins into a leather
bag, tied it with a bit of twine and stuffed it in a saddlebag. “Don’t you fret
none. Your money’s safe in here.”

Jake was gratified Bill considered the bet won.

Shorty ladled the beans on to tin plates and handed one to
Jake. Jake took a seat on a rock, his throat dry and his belly growling.

True, he didn’t have much experience when it came to
womenfolk—excepting they were soft and smelled good and were apt to giggle when
talked to. But he’d learned a lot about breaking a horse and he reckoned a
scold of a woman wasn’t much different. And Ma had taught him how to treat a
lady right.

With those two skills settled well into his back pocket, he
was confident Kate Crowley would be doing his bidding in no time. And maybe
he’d have a good meal in the bargain—no more canned beans and dried, leathery
meat three times a day. Heck, what he was about to undertake would make his
days and especially his nights a sight more fun.

He scooped up a spoonful of lukewarm beans. This was going
to be the easiest bet he’d ever won. He set his mind to thinking about a pretty
piece of flatland that would be his by the New Year.

* * * * *

Kathryn Crowley tightened her grip on her pa’s bullwhip.
Coiled at her hip, the corded leather of the stock dug into the flesh of her
palm. Sweat beaded and dripped down her spine, giving her a chill despite the
heat. Blowing sand stung her nose and cheeks and left grit in her mouth.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying not to gag.

She didn’t want to use the whip but she would if she had to.
She’d learned how to get a bullheaded man’s undivided attention. And her trusty
whip would certainly gain that.

“How could you, Mack? After everything my pa did for you?”
She’d caught the foreman playing cards over at the Blue Belle—what used to be
the Lonesome before it burned to the ground—in the middle of the day. Most
likely with the money she’d given him to buy supplies.

The big man puffed up his chest and snarled. He regarded the
whip with a sneer and then met her gaze. “You’ve got no business spying on me,”
he said. “A man needs time off once in a while and not in the company of
females.”

“Not with my money, you don’t.”

Mack’s face flamed red as an Arizona sunset and he took a
step toward her. “You got no call to accuse me of stealing.”

Kate held her ground. “Seeing you gambling when you should
be taking care of Crowley business is all the proof I need.”

His upper lip curled. “So what? I was winning. I have enough
money to buy your feed and have some left over.”

Kate had heard enough from this brute. How dare he mock her
and abuse her trust? “So what? I’ll tell you
what
. You’re fired, Mack
McKay.”

“You ain’t got it in you to run that ranch without me.” He
spit on the ground. “You and your sis won’t last another winter.”

A challenge. The man dared to challenge her? Kate never
backed down from a fight. In fact, she’d gotten into more trouble with people
daring her
not
to do things than anything else.

“We’ll see about that,” she replied. “The Crowley spread
will be the most profitable ranch in these parts one day, just you wait and
see.”

She looked around her. She’d drawn a crowd outside of
Finney’s Mercantile. How she hated to make a scene. She could just hear the
residents of Tucson ranting about how she ought to act like a lady and leave
the running of a ranch to men.

Well, there were no men who would work for her except Mack.
He’d started as foreman at the ranch for her pa and she’d just fired him.

She couldn’t let him make the rules. No man would boss her.
Besides, this scoundrel had bet against her. Made her the laughingstock of
town.

Mack sucked in air, twisted his lips and spit again. This
time the disgusting phlegm landed inches from her black leather boots. Gasps
sounded from the women watching on the sidewalk. Kate’s stomach roiled. He’d
just spit on her. She couldn’t let him get away with disrespecting her.

She squeezed the whipstock tighter. With just a flick of her
wrist, the leather would crack in the dirt, making him jump. She’d show the
brute some manners.

She held back, keeping her anger in check. She’d promised
her sister.

Unfortunately for him, he began to laugh, a big belly laugh
that had some of the others behind her chuckling. Anger ate up the last of her
goodwill.

Kate let the whip uncoil. She adjusted the weight.

“Put that away, Kate girl, before you hurt yourself.” He
frowned but didn’t appear the least bit unnerved.

“How dare you,” she hissed.

“What did I say?” Mack answered, speaking to the crowd, his
eyes bright with amusement.

Folks began to ask the same question, no doubt wondering why
Kate was making a scene and interrupting their peaceful morning. It only
frustrated her more.

Kate had a point to prove and she wasn’t about to give Mack
the satisfaction of humiliating her in front of the good people of Tucson.
“Don’t make me use this whip.”

At this, Mack laughed louder and threw his head back, his
limbs shaking. Others joined him. Obviously, they found Kate’s warning nothing
but a joke.

“What’s so funny?” she asked. Heat radiated up from her
chest and neck to settle in her cheeks. This was the last time Mack would laugh
at her. She shook out the whip and closed the gap between them.

The rat of a foreman stopped abruptly and straightened to
his full height. If he expected her to be intimidated by his size and strength,
he was mistaken. No man scared Kate Crowley. Especially not a thief and
gambler.

Before she knew what was happening, their latest ex-employee
had the gall to snatch her purse from her belt, breaking the strap.

She grabbed for it but he danced out of her reach.

“Give that back this instant,” she said in a commanding
voice.

“You mean this?” He held it up and jiggled it in her face.

“I won’t ask you again,” she said, raising the whip. That
was the last of her money. If he made off with it she’d be penniless. Her anger
built. She’d teach him who was boss.

Mack twisted his mouth into a frightful sneer. “You fired
me, Ms. Crowley. Consider whatever’s in this hand bag severance pay.”

She bared her teeth, prepared to remind him who he was
dealing with.

“Now see here…” Mr. Finney stepped off the boardwalk.

“Don’t concern yourself here, Finney,” Mack said, rocking
from side to side. “This little filly just needs to be taught her place.
Besides, I don’t think she’s got it in her to use that whip.”

Kate had heard enough of his patronizing talk. Her blood
pumped at an astonishing rate through her body and a surge of power radiated to
her limbs.

She raised the whip and gave it a jerk, just as her father
had taught her to do. The whip cracked and her purse dropped to the ground, the
jingle of coins muffled by her ex-foreman’s shout of pain.

“You bitch!” He rubbed his raw knuckles and glared.

She wasn’t sorry and stared back at him, hoping he’d learned
his lesson.

Instead he advanced on her, his shoulders tight, his lips
bunched into a fearsome scowl.

A moment of panic filled her belly but she shoved it aside.
There was nothing she could do but stand her ground. She’d gotten his attention
and she couldn’t back down.

He stared, primed for murder, his grip on his sidearm. She
reared her arm, ready to strike again but Mack grabbed her wrist. She struggled
but his grip tightened. He yanked the whip out of her grasp and tossed it in
the dirt.

And there and then he planted a disgusting, slobbery kiss on
her lips.

She twisted and pulled to get away from his
whiskey-saturated mouth. Bile burned a path up her throat and her stomach
heaved at the wretched smell.

Her fingers curled into a fist and her body flew into
action. She struck a blow, clobbering the idiot hard under the jaw. He released
her and stepped back, blinking rapidly.

As she glared at him, she wiped off her mouth with her
sleeve, her fists ready to strike again. Revolted by his taste in her mouth,
she spit onto the ground.

Mr. Finney jumped between them, holding his hands out to
stop Mack from retaliating, or to protect him, Kate wasn’t entirely sure.

“You two settle down,” Mr. Finney said sharply. “There’s
nothing to be gained fighting.”

“Stay out of this, Finney. I’ve a score to settle,” Mack
replied, his throat full of gravel. He rubbed his jaw as he glared at her.

“I’ve sent for the sheriff,” Finney said.

“You seen what she done,” Mack said, crying foul.

Just like Mack not to admit he’d done anything wrong. Well,
this time no one would blame her or her temper. Mack had clearly provoked her
by taking liberties. Those who watched were no longer laughing but glancing at
each other with brows furrowed.

Mack dragged his feet back and forth on the ground like a
bull ready to charge. The whip had left an angry red welt.

Mr. Finney stood his ground. “Now you simmer down, McKay.
This here is a peaceful town. We’ll let the sheriff deal with the situation
when he gets here.”

“I’m bringing up charges against you.” Mack jabbed a finger
in her direction. “I’ll have the sheriff arrest you for assault.”

“There are plenty of witnesses to say I had cause,” she
retaliated.

Mack checked the crowd, measuring his support. The crowd
nodded and whispered among themselves. He took a step back, sneering.

Kate’s breathing steadied but a shiver of fear threatened to
betray her. She wouldn’t give Mack or the rest of the town the satisfaction of
thinking she was afraid of the brute. She wouldn’t be cowed like the rest of
them. She was in the right.

Sheriff Poole was a decent sort of man. He would see the
right of things, wouldn’t he? If not maybe she could persuade his wife Carly
for some assistance. Carly Poole would understand what Kate was up against.