This Cowboy's a Keeper (Unlikely Cowgirl Book 3) Read online

  This Cowboy’s a Keeper

  Kimberly Krey

  Copyright © 2018 by Kimberly Krey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Kimberly Krey

  “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.”

  Steve Jobs

  Chapter 1

  Luke Branson had trudged up this set of porch steps countless times, but something was different about today. The creak of the weathered wood slats was the same. Mojo’s repetitive low-pitched bark hadn’t changed.

  No, the difference wasn’t something to be seen or heard, rather felt. A pressing hint of change in the air.

  “Sounds like Luke’s here,” his brother Taylor hollered from inside.

  Luke took the final step in time for his brother to pull open the door. “What’s up, Tay?”

  “Not much, man. Come on in. Dad wants to talk to you.”

  Mojo met Luke at the door too, eyes wide and pleading while pawing at his legs. Luke hunched down and gave the collie a rubdown with both hands. Behind the ears first, then along the scruff of his neck. “How you doing, Jo, huh? How you doing?” He glanced up at Taylor. “Did you perm your hair again?”

  Taylor ran a hand over the short curls on his head. “Shut up, barf breath. Like anyone would know if you had natural curl. Only time you take that cowboy hat off is to sleep or pray, while everyone’s eyes are conveniently closed.”

  Luke straightened up, lifted his hat off his head, and shot Taylor a grin. “Straight as sticks up there.”

  “Tsk, whatever. Sticks with dents in them, hat head.”

  Luke tossed an arm around him while he rested his hat in place. “So what does Dad want to talk to me about?”

  “You know how Doug’s going to be moving soon …”

  Luke stopped walking, unwilling to head beyond the front room and be taken off guard. “Yes.”

  “Well, Dad was thinking, since Doug’s your only ranch hand, that maybe you’ll take on an extra, just for the summer.”

  Luke pinned his lips closed for a breath. Doug was a hard worker, but Luke had mainly hired him because the kid’s dad was deployed and, according to his mom, he needed a male figure in his life. “I hired Doug as more of a favor,” he finally said, already regretting the words. It may have started out that way, but having Doug on as a ranch hand had turned out to be not only a big help, but also a privilege; there weren’t many kids like Doug around.

  “This guy could really use a favor too,” Taylor said. “Trust me. He’s desperate. In fact, he told Dad he’d even work for free if he could just get room and board while he’s here. If Dad had any bunks left at the house, he’d take him on himself.”

  “Where is he?” Luke asked.

  “The kid who wants the job?” Taylor hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Family room with Dad.”

  “Wait, you just called him a kid. How old is he?”

  “Almost twenty,” Taylor said. “You barely have six years on him.”

  Hmm. He was even younger than Taylor. Luke resisted the urge to peek around the open doorframe and into the room. “Better be a hard worker,” he mumbled, already irritated at the idea of bringing yet another teenager onto his ranch. Doug wasn’t set to move out until the end of the season, and summer had only just begun.

  “He found an old help-wanted ad I forgot to remove,” Taylor hissed. “I feel responsible for him coming all the way out here. Besides, he’s free labor.”

  “I’m not taking him on for free. I’ll pay him for his work. I just want him to have a good work ethic, is all.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Taylor said with a shrug, not even the appearance of a guarantee in his tone.

  Mojo, who’d snuck off during their conversation, plunked down at Luke’s feet, hovering over a tidbit he’d scored from the kitchen.

  Luke made a mental list of things he wanted to do now that the cattle had been moved to the east pasture. It was a hefty list, he could admit that. One he’d cross off twice as fast if he brought on an extra hand.

  “All right,” he finally said. “Let’s go meet him.”

  They were about to round the doorframe when Taylor put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and stopped him. “One last thing.”

  Luke didn’t like the sound of that. He glanced back to catch Taylor’s gaze. “Yeah?”

  “His family’s kind of famous, but you probably haven’t heard of them. His name’s Jason Keller.”

  Luke lifted a brow, gave in to the urge to look around the doorframe, and saw the famous auburn-haired guy seated on the couch. Luke shook his head. “Jason Keller? With the plastic surgeon dad and the fashion mom and the snobby diva sister?”

  Taylor’s shoulders dropped. He suddenly looked as if he’d shrunk four inches. “You have heard of them.”

  “Is there anyone who hasn’t? Their family’s obnoxious.”

  “He thinks so too,” Taylor said. “That’s why he’s trying to get out. His dad wants him to be a plastic surgeon like him, but that’s not what he wants. He’s been going to Stanford. He had to beg to take summer semester off just so he could come fulfill his dream of trying the ranch life.”

  This—this was the reason things felt off as he’d walked up the porch. Something inside Luke told him a bomb was coming. Sure, hiring the kid might not be a big deal, but did he really want to get involved with a high-profile family? No, he didn’t. But that didn’t mean that he shouldn’t. Luke already knew what his father would say. Each man has a right to his own journey; it’s our job to help them along or get out of the way.

  Jason Keller wanted a vacation from his pampered Hollywood lifestyle, did he?

  Luke readjusted his hat and stepped over Mojo and into the family room. His father, reclined on his lounge chair, boots and hat in place, shot him a wave. “Luke,” he boomed, “come on in and meet Jason.”

  The guy stood as Luke approached and greeted him with a strong handshake.

  Luke tipped his hat and lifted his chin, squaring a look at the brown-eyed kid. “I hear you’re looking for work.”

  Chapter 2

  ~ Three Months Later ~

  Chapter 3

  “My parents are going to kill Jason,” Payton Keller said before sinking her fork into her triple chocolate mousse cake. “I can’t believe he’s refusing to come back for fall semester.”

  Archie shook his head and leaned back in his seat. Violin music played gently in the background while he ran the tips of his fingers over the linen tableclo
th. Sometimes her fiancé really did resemble his sound-alike nickname: Archie Kendall, Hollywood’s Ken Doll. He had the brilliant teeth, perfect nose, and meticulously shaven face. Even the eye-catching wave of blond hair, gelled into place. The only thing he lacked was the tan, and perhaps a bit of muscle too, she’d admit. But that never bothered her.

  “I kind of feel sorry for Jason,” he said, tilting his head lazily to one side.

  Why had Payton felt that comment coming on? Because Archie was a softy, that’s why. “Archie, if your father would’ve dropped out of school, where would you be? Huh? Would Kendall Organics even exist? No. It wouldn’t.”

  Archie toyed with the collar of his shirt, then straightened his argyle vest. All shades of blue from her clothing line, matching his slacks. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Right,” Payton said. She knew pink would be a good color for her today. It was her power color—like red, only softer. And heaven knew Payton could use some softening around the edges. She was a Keller, after all.

  Archie reached for his teacup and took a sip. A barely touched cucumber sandwich rested on the plate nearby.

  Her mind shifted to another item on her agenda—the wedding announcements. “Have you thought about which color you’d like the envelopes to be?”

  His brow furrowed. “What are the choices again?”

  Payton rolled her eyes. “We’re doing shades of green. The text will be honeydew, and the ribbon that binds the velum overlay is mint leaf. So the envelopes need to be either dusted sage or vineyard green.”

  Archie filled his cheeks with air, pushed it out through his lips. “Let’s do the sage one.”

  “Perfect. See? You’re making the decisions here, right? It’s not just me doing everything.” Ever since the press came out with their “Payton Plows over Forlorn Fiancé” article, she’d been pausing to make sure Archie had a voice, and that he used it. “Now when they ask how the wedding plans are coming, you can tell them that you are helping plan the entire thing.”

  “Yep,” he said.

  The truth was, Payton had been dying for an excuse to plan a wedding. She only wished she’d been handed that deck of cards instead—wedding design over fashion—but she couldn’t complain. Having Olivia Keller, Queen of Fashion, as her mother was a privilege. And Payton, unlike her brother, planned to make the most of her inherited social status. It’s why she and Archie made sense. Their high-profile families complemented one another’s perfectly.

  The idea forced her mind back to the blemish her brother was forming on their family image. “I decided I’m going to go to Phillipsburg,” she announced. “My mom told me to go ahead and take the jet. If the press catches wind of it, I’ll just say I was interested in what Jason’s been doing all summer.”

  Archie’s pale blue eyes grew wide. “Where?”

  “Montana,” she specified.

  Still, his expression didn’t change. “Why are you going out there?”

  Was he kidding? “Haven’t you been listening? I’ve got to go get Jason and bring him home.”

  “But he doesn’t want to come home.”

  Payton shrugged. “He doesn’t know what he wants. He’s young. He’s going to finish school, earn his doctorate, and start working under my dad after his residency. It’s the price you pay for being a Keller. Besides, my dad says he plans to rename the show once he comes on board. Instead of Beauty and the Keller Beast, he’s changing it to Beasts, to include him.”

  When Archie turned his gaze to the sight out the window, Payton followed it, eyeing the stretch of blue accented by glistening water and a row of swaying palm trees.

  “I’d never want to do reality TV,” Archie mumbled. “I can’t believe your dad’s willing to keep it going.”

  “He might as well,” Payton said with a shrug. “He is the best around, and plastic surgery’s a popular topic. People are fascinated by it.”

  Archie didn’t reply. Instead, he snatched his phone off the table and began to scroll. Was it just her, or was Archie off today?

  “Excuse me,” the waitress said, her voice soft. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m asking you this, but would you be willing to sign my copy of Glitter Magazine? Your designs are the only reason I subscribe to it, and I love the runway pictures from your brand, Shades.”

  “Thanks,” Payton said. “We redheads have to stick together, right? Go grab it and I’ll sign away.”

  “Awesome! I’ll be right back.” The girl raced through a set of swinging doors.

  “She is so adorable,” Payton said, warmth for the girl brewing in her chest. She appreciated timid people who stepped out of their shell to get something they wanted. Payton was timid once too, but not anymore. She’d come a long way. She’d had to if she wanted to keep up with the Kellers.

  Archie’s gaze veered to his family crest ring as he spun it around his pale, slender finger. Once. Twice. “So when do you leave?” He lifted his chin. The dodgy look in his eyes caused that something’s wrong zinger to skid up the back of her neck.

  “Um …” She cleared her throat. “Tomorrow, after my morning meetings.”

  “Busy day,” he said. “Sounds like you better get some sleep tonight.” He shifted his gaze back to the ring.

  “Yeah.” The word fell off her lips somehow, but she didn’t exactly mean it. Just what was Archie doing? Trying to call off movie night? Friday night was movie night, and it was her turn to pick.

  The waitress came back then. Payton signed the girl’s magazine at the bottom of each spread featuring the Shades line.

  “They wanted me to wear a red top and black pants to serve here,” the waitress said, “but I told them I was on the Shades diet, and would only wear one color at once. I’m so glad you came out with the black-cherry pants just in time. Now it’s close to black, but it still fits into my shade for the day.”

  Payton loved this girl more by the minute. Even if she was taking the Shades concept to a whole new (unintended) level. The Shades Diet? Payton made a mental note to check on that term. Hopefully nobody from her team had put that out there; not even Payton dressed in Shades all the time. “Well, you look absolutely fabulous,” she said to her.

  “I love that your fiancé dresses in Shades too. You guys look hot.”

  “Thanks,” Payton said. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you.” As the girl shuffled off, Payton caught sight of Archie in her periphery. Texting.

  Who is he texting?

  And why am I suddenly so paranoid?

  The next thought that came to mind only added to the mounting weight on her shoulders. I hope I can bring Jason back. I can’t let the Keller family fall apart.

  Payton told herself that very thing as she spent movie night alone for the first time in a year. While her favorite chick flick played across the wall screen in her penthouse apartment, Payton’s focus wavered between Archie’s lukewarm affections and the devastation Jason’s absence could cause her family. She could read the headlines now: “Jason Keller Dumps Med School and Pursues Life as a Country Bumpkin.” No, that would be too kind. It’d more likely be something like “Who’s More Insane—the Keller Who Left the Family, or the Ones Who Drove Him Away?”

  Jason’s PR rep had worked overtime to put a positive twist on his summer ranching stint, theming his time away as “A Different Kind of Vacation.” He claimed Jason had a passion to experience life outside his privileged Hollywood surroundings—get his hands dirty, as they say. The press attempted to smear him, suggesting that he was in rehab, but that didn’t catch on. So far, so good.

  Now she just needed to get him home before fall semester started in two and a half weeks. If Jason didn’t show, his absence would spark the tabloid topic ablaze with a vengeance. That alone could trigger a demolition within the Keller family, and Payton could not let that happen.

  Credits scrolled up the screen, causing her to realize the show was over. She flicked out the lights with limp fingers and slumped down the hallway with jello-like
legs. Hopefully a good night’s sleep would breathe some determination back into her limbs.

  She climbed into bed. Her designer bedding, Shades’s newest line, boasted three gorgeous shades of gray. The plush comforter, a rich ashy color, was contrasted by a shade of heather beneath, visible only at the top fold. And the sheets, a 900-thread count in a sateen weave, were a light pearl gray, one of her favorites. A shade that carried into the stripes on the decorative pillows.

  Payton was thrilled with the design, and equally pleased with the quality, yet as she climbed into her bed that night, it didn’t offer the comfort it usually did. The sheets were cold, the room dark, and her chest achy and tight.

  “Sorry to tell you this, Payton, but your mom and I are both pursuing different goals. We’ve tried to stay together, we really have. But it’s just too much.”

  Payton looked up at her parents, feeling as if she’d shrunk five full feet. With the couple hovering over her like calm, sad-faced giants, she smeared her hands over her cheeks. “It’s because I’m not helping with baby Jay-Jay enough. I’ll help more, I promise.”

  Mom shook her head frantically, tears slipping down her own cheeks now. “No, Payton, sweetie, this is not your fault. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “Yes, it does!” she cried. “I know it’s my fault because you’ve both been getting really mad at me. Kellers don’t give up, remember?”

  Dad cleared his throat and looked away, sniffing. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he mumbled.