Silk and Spurs
Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Silk and Spurs
Cheyenne McCray
Copyright © 2011 by Cheyenne McCray
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Cheyenne Writing as Jaymie Holland
Excerpt—
Rough and Ready: Lipstick and Leather
Chapter 1
Wind tugged at Jessie Porter’s dark red hair as she climbed out of her red Mustang and her athletic shoes met Bar C ground. She pushed errant strands out of her face as she slowly looked around her at the Cameron family ranch. From what she knew of the place, it had been in the same family for generations.
A massive barn, extensive corrals, an old bunkhouse, and a sprawling ranch home edged the huge driveway. The parking area was big enough to accommodate a semi if need be, with enough room for the big rig to turn around. Everything was big on this ranch from what she could see.
The bawl of cattle in the distance told her that a herd was close. Lacy clouds were scattered across a blue early morning sky as the sun rose.
She reached into the passenger seat of her car and grabbed her backpack with her camera equipment, then slung it over her shoulder before pulling out her Nikon and looping the strap around her neck. The car door gave a solid thump as she slammed it shut and then she walked to the back of the vehicle. A big white work truck was parked on one side of her Mustang, on the other a sleek new black Ford crew-cab.
Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she stepped away from the vehicles and raised her camera, looked through the lens, and started shooting.
More than likely the ranch’s owner, Zane Cameron, would be out working but she wasn’t sure where. She was bound to run into someone who did know as she began photographing the ranch. Too bad Danica, the youngest Cameron, wasn’t going to be around. Danica had mentioned that she had to spend a week in New Mexico visiting a friend, so she wouldn’t be here while Jessie was.
For cowboys, the days started before a rooster crowed. Jessie had intended to be at the Bar C when its cowboys climbed out of bed, but she’d overslept, forgetting to set her alarm and she hadn’t started her drive from Tucson on time.
In this part of Arizona, the elevation was almost five thousand feet and the late October air was chilly in the mornings. The mornings warmed quick under the southern Arizona sun, so quick that at ten-thirty she was ready to remove her sweater, and the sun warmed her bare arms. Thanks to her sister’s visit and subsequent amazing cooking, Jessie’s jean shorts were feeling a little too tight this morning. She’d miss Tanya now that she was heading back to Houston, but her waistline just might recover.
She focused her lens on the ranch house that was built of dark wood. From the front it looked like it was well over four thousand square feet, but who knew what it actually was—it could be much larger. She’d heard that the Camerons had done well for themselves, and by the looks of it, that was true. Between the four brothers and their respective ranches, they had a virtual empire in the San Rafael Valley.
It was only recently that she’d become friends with Danica, the youngest sibling in the family. She was the reason Jessie had been hired to photograph the ranch, and soon the impending wedding of Zane, the eldest son.
Tall, stately old sycamore trees, mesquites and a few native oaks shaded the house. An enclosed porch ran the length of the home and through the screen she saw a variety of plants hanging from the rafters. More potted greenery was arranged around chairs and beside the loveseat-sized white porch swing. A rooster weather vane perched on one end of the rooftop that she captured with its luscious blue-sky background.
Colorful flowerbeds had been planted in front of the house—pansies, chrysanthemums, and carnations were beneath the Arizona October sun.
An old wooden wagon wheel leaned up against an oak that had an old fashioned triangular dinner bell hanging from it. It made for an excellent photo. To the left of the home was a well-shaded area with a covered swing, and she heard the sound of a small waterfall as it trickled into a pond.
Behind the house rose a tree line along with a weathered windmill that made rusted scraping sounds as the blades turned with the wind. She wondered if the windmill actually pumped water for the house or if it was unused and simply remained from decades gone by. She’d head out back and photograph it, too.
Colorful birds darted in and out of the trees, chirping and shrieking, and she saw a lizard scale a wall of the house.
She captured everything with a practiced eye and knew the photographs were going to turn into one fabulous collection when she was done. This place was a photographer’s dream. From what little she’d seen, she had the feeling that she could spend hours here and still not catch everything that she wanted to.
“Can I help you?”
A deep, masculine drawl from behind her send a shiver down her spine and she lowered her camera and let it hang around her neck. She turned to face one hell of a fine cowboy, easily one of the sexiest she’d seen in all of her twenty-nine years.
At least six-three with broad shoulders and a cowboy’s build, he had blue flame eyes and black hair that curled slightly beneath his cowboy hat. His skin was well tanned and his arms roped with muscle.
“Sure.” She smiled. “You can help me anytime.” He raised an eyebrow and she grinned as she held out her hand. “Jessica Porter,” she said. “But please call me Jessie. I’m here to photograph the ranch and the upcoming wedding.”
“You’re my kid sister’s friend.” The cowboy took her hand in a firm grip. “Welcome to the Bar C.”
Jessie’s heart started to pound like crazy as the cowboy’s warm touch sent fire through her body. Her mouth grew dry and she bit the inside of her lower lip. It was the most enticing reaction that she’d ever had to a man.
Before he released it, he said, “I’m Zane Cameron.”
The disappointment that swept through her was a surprise. She didn’t even know Zane, so what difference did it make that he was getting married in just weeks?
What a shame. All of that hot man flesh would soon belong to some other woman.
The green-eyed redhead was so sexy that he’d damned near gone hard when he’d clasped her hand. She had a cute grin and shapely body and her nipples were hard, poking against the light cotton of her T-shirt.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
For one moment Zane thought about carting Jessie off to the ranch house and taking her six ways ’til Sunday.
Well hell.
He mentally shook his head. He had no business thinking about another woman and his body had no damned excuse to react the way it had.
Except that Jessie Porter was one hell of a woman. And he was a red-blooded American male and he’d just had a natural reaction to her.
Keep telling yourself that, Cameron.
“Congratulations,” she said. Her smile was enough to make him crazy.
For a moment he didn’t know why she was telling him congratulations, but then he regained his senses.
“Thanks.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, feeling like he needed to anchor them to make sure he kept his hands off of her.
She tilted her head to the side, which caused her dark red hair to slide away from her elegant neck. “Is the bride-to-be here?”
“Phoebe’s at her place.” He dragged his hand down his face then gave a nod in the direction of the house. “You can photograph anything you’d like to around here. Danica wants to give the album to our aunt.”
Jessie nodded. “Danica mentioned that your aunt took care of the two of you along with your three brothers. Raising five kids is quite a feat for one woman.”
“Sure as hell was.” He glanced at Jessie as she fell into step beside him.
“Danica said two of your brothers are twins,” she said. “Wayne and Wyatt.”
Zane nodded. “Yep, and our youngest brother is Dillon.”
Her smile was pure sunshine as she looked at him.
God only knew why he found himself comparing Phoebe with Jessie.
He’d begun to feel a little uneasy about his relationship with Phoebe and he’d managed to put off the wedding another couple of months, but here it was, creeping back up. To him Phoebe had been the picture of sweetness and intelligence, but lately it seemed that there had to be another side of her that others had seen but he hadn’t, but then maybe it was the pressure of the wedding. It did concern him, though.
Ah, hell. Maybe his concern was just a case of pre-wedding jitters. Although he had a good mind to move the date again.
He glanced at Jessie and thought how different she looked from Phoebe who was pale blonde and petite at five-one. Jessie, on the other hand, was no shorter than five-eight. Both women were beautiful as hell, just as different as sunrise from sunset.
He ground his teeth. He’d never been one to compare women, especially not now that he was about to be married. It was time he settled down and had a couple of kids to carry on the Cameron name. No one else in the family seemed to be inclined to head down that road. Someone had to do it.
“Phoebe would like you to photograph her place, too.” He paused in front of the doors to the ranch house. “She’s got a nice home, just north before you hit the hills and she wants the pictures to market it.”
“So, she’s selling it now that you’re getting married?” Jessie took her camera in both hands. “Of course she’ll be moving to the ranch, I assume.”
“You assume right.” Zane tried not to frown. “Phoebe is reluctant to sell her place and has decided to rent it.” Considering how pricey the house was, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to find anyone who could afford to rent it in these parts. He’d just have to convince her to put it up for sale. There was no need to hang on to another property.
Zane held the screen door open that let out onto the porch. Jessie hitched her pack with her camera equipment on her shoulder and her shoes made soft sounds on the wooden floor as she passed through the door and cool air touched her face.
“I love this. Everything about your place is fantastic.” She raised her camera and glanced at him. “I can photograph anything?”
“Almost anything.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a look that was sexy enough to make her stomach flip. “When in doubt, just ask.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
As she took a few shots of the expansive porch, taking in antique ironwork objects decorating the area as he let the screen door close. When she lowered her camera, he opened the huge door to the ranch house. She stepped through the doorway and entered the spacious home.
Inside everything was big and roomy with western décor and artwork, and high vaulted ceilings. The beautiful hardwood floor had area rugs covering parts of it. A coffee table made from a tree trunk was in front of a long leather L-shaped couch and another fabric couch with a western design, both of which faced an enormous entertainment center and big screen TV. Picture windows showed the incredible views from the front and back.
Through an archway was a spacious kitchen that she wanted to get a better look at. From what she could see of it, she knew her sister the cook would love it.
