by Deborah Camp
GENRE: Historical Romance (Western)
Texas rancher Callum Latimer believed that the Civil War had killed everything tender and yearning inside of him until he struck up a partnership with Banner Payne. His dark-haired, golden-eyed, spirited neighbor stirred embers that he thought were long dead . . .
Sunlight glided over hair as she shifted from one boot to the other, and before his mind could catch up with his instincts, Callum reached out and wrapped his index finger around one of her auburn curls. Its softness against his calloused skin sent longing through him like a rushing river. She’d be like that all over – soft where he was hard, giving where he was not. He heard her gasp and his heart bucked.
As long as he could remember, the Paynes were the family everyone in these parts shunned. His pa made noise about Otis Payne stealing cattle from him, but the bad blood between him and Otis went farther back than that – years before Callum was born. The Paynes had a good piece of land and had usually turned out a healthy herd of cattle, but they were a slovenly lot. The children had always looked unkempt. That probably had to do with them not having a mother to look after them. Alva had died when Banner was just a babe.
The war had taken two of her brothers, leaving only Hollis. Otis had died six months before the war ended. Callum had heard that Banner was running the Payne ranch, but he didn’t believe it. He figured Hollis was trying to be the boss and his cowhands were taking advantage of him. Stealing him blind, probably. That’s what he’d heard from Eller and from folks in town.
Leaning a shoulder against the porch post, Callum watched the horse and wagon make its way toward the house. Behind him, the hound growled. “No, Rowdy,” he commanded and the growl faded to whine.
The sun burned his eyes, making it difficult to discern any details of the Payne’s girl’s face. She reined the sway-backed horse in the shade of the house and Callum could finally see her bonnet and pretty dress. After she wrapped the reins around the brake, she turned toward him and a smile curved her pink lips as her gaze met his boldly, confidently.
Callum shifted his weight from one boot to the other as a bolt of awareness shot through him. Damn, she’d grown into a beauty, he thought, taking in her reddish brown hair and heart-shaped face. And those eyes – dark gold. The eyes of a tiger.
“’Afternoon to you, Misters Latimer.” Her voice had a husky quality, as pleasing as aged whiskey. “I bet you’re surprised to see me.”
“I don’t like surprises,” Seth said.
She swallowed and her smile faltered for a moment. Directing her full attention to Callum, she took in a breath that lifted her breasts and the white ruffles covering them. “Your herd looks profitable. Good, sound stock.”
“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Callum said, wondering what was going on under that blue bonnet. She was up to something – but what? “How’s the Payne herd?”
Her smile vanished and she shrugged. “Not what it should be. I’m missing some. It’s been a bad year for calves, but a good year for coyotes, wolves, and rustlers.”
“Your pappy stole cattle from me,” Seth said, repeating an oft-spouted accusation.
Banner’s gaze whipped to the older man’s frowning visage and Callum could almost feel her fighting back scalding words.
“Sir, my father is dead and can no longer defend himself.” She squared her shoulders. “And I’m not here to fight old battles. I have new ones to address. I’ll come right the point as I know you have work to attend to – as have I. Northerners are sniffing around our place and several have offered to buy me out.”
“Damn Yankees,” Seth groused and Rowdy growled as if in agreement.
Banner gave a sniff of contempt. “Of course, they want to pay half of what it’s worth.” She looked off into the distance and it seemed that a shadow passed over her face. “Looks like I’m going to have to sell. I don’t want the Yankees to prosper from what my family bled and died for, so I’m here to offer it to you.” Her gaze swept to Callum again. “I’ll sell it to you. All I ask is that you let Hollis stay on.”
My Heroes Have Mostly Been Cowboys
By Deborah Camp, author of Solitary Horseman
One of the things I love most about cowboys is that they never totally fall out of favor. Oh, there might be times when they aren’t seen as often on television and the movies, but they are always a part of America like Mom and apple pie.
Nearly all of my historical romances have cowboys as heroes. Cowboys figure prominently in my contemporary romances, too. Although the contemporary hero might not be an actual cowboy, he possesses the cowboy spirit – that swaggering, wide-shouldered, crooked smile kind of charisma that is instantly recognizable even if he happens to be wearing a tuxedo.
Cowboys are evergreen and the books that feature them are, too. That’s because love, like cowboys, is never boring or trite.
Although I am proud of each and every novel, I must confess I have a soft spot for the ones set in the west. I love stories that center on tough-skinned, tender-hearted men and women who are absolutely their equals. Women have struggled with unfair advantages throughout the ages and I love to write stories about women who refuse to be restricted or denied. Strong women need strong men and they don’t come any stronger than those range-riding, bronc-busting, iron-jawed men of the Wild West.
Solitary Horseman is set at a time that fascinating to me, when the country was in an upheaval following the Civil War. The South and its people would adjust, but it would take decades. In a way, the South is still recovering. However, back then there was much hatred and bitterness that kept people from moving on and finding better lives for themselves.
I hope you enjoy reading this novel as much as I did creating it. Please drop me a line and let me know what made you smile, sigh, or awakened in you that primal appreciation for a man in a cowboy hat and chaps.
Author of more than 45 novels, Deborah lives in Oklahoma. She has been a full-time writer since she graduated from the University of Tulsa. She worked for a few years as a reporter for newspapers before becoming a freelance writer. Deborah's first novel was published in the late 1970s and her books have been published by Jove, New American Library, Harlequin, Silhouette, and Avon. She has been inducted into the Oklahoma Authors Hall of Fame and she is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America. She is also a member of the Author's Guild.
Lover of the west and the people who tried to tame it, Deborah likes to write about strong, independent women and the men who are their equals. She grew up on a diet of TV westerns which have served her well. Since she appreciates men with devilish twinkles in their eyes, she likes to mix laughter in with the love scenes in her books. Also widely published in non-fiction, she writes and edits for a magazine focused on small businesses. Deborah taught fiction writing for more than 10 years at a community college. She is currently working on her next historical romance set in the wild, wonderful west.
Her books have been re-issued on Amazon for Kindle Direct and have attracted tens of thousands of new fans. For a list of them, visit her website.
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