From South Dakota to Wolfe Men of Wyoming

Excerpt

It was a heady feeling to be starting over.

Exciting.

Terrifying.

Blowing out a breath, she opened the door, anxious to unload the SUV and get started.

Closing the door behind her, she stretched, knowing from experience that the muscles in her back had tightened and she’d have to be careful for the next few days.

Cursing her designer boots, she started toward the back door, the sound of a dog barking startling her into whipping around, her high-heeled boots no match for the icy driveway.

With a yelp, she flailed her arms in an effort to maintain her balance, but her feet slid out from under her and she landed flat on her back.

Her fall knocked the wind out of her, and as she struggled to draw a breath, she lifted her hands from the ice and snow beneath her.

Suddenly, a huge golden retriever appeared, leaning over her, the sight of sharp teeth making her stiffen even more, another gasp escaping at the even sharper tug to her lower back.

“Maggie!”

A harsh, deep shout came from somewhere on her right, along with the sound of a horse galloping closer.

Seconds later, a late-model pickup truck pulled into her driveway, skidding to a stop behind her SUV.

The golden retriever whimpered and sat next to her, bending its head to lick at her face, and she finally managed to draw a deep breath.

Relieved, she laughed softly and reached up to stroke its soft fur. “Thank you for not biting me.”

The two men rushed forward, the one who’d leapt from the horse wearing jeans, black cowboy hat, black shearling coat, and black boots, the man from the black pickup truck dressed in brown.

Both rushed to her, crouching near her feet, the one in brown reaching for her hand. “Ma’am?” From beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his green eyes glimmered. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She smiled, dropping her hand from the soft fur when the man in black pet the dog and urged it aside. “Maggie? Your dog’s a girl?”

“Yeah. Some are, you know.” He glanced at the other man before turning his attention back to her, his green eyes slightly darker and filled with anger and concern. “Where does it hurt? What the hell do you think you’re doing wearing boots like that? You’re lucky if you didn’t break your damned fool neck. Come on. Let me help you up.”

Panicked at the thought, she stiffened even more. “No! Don’t touch me!” Holding out a hand to ward him off, she closed her eyes against the sharp pain, breathing deeply and willing her back spasm to relax. “I’ll be fine. I just turned fast when I heard Maggie. I just need to stay still for a minute.”

“You’re blaming Maggie? You should blame those frivolous boots.”

Opening her eyes, she glared at him. “Why don’t you take your dog, your horse, and your attitude and get the hell off my front yard.”

“Your yard?”

The man in brown appeared a few years older, the gray at his temples giving him a distinguished look. Leaning over her, he frowned. “Your back?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine in a minute. I’m trying to relax it, but your friend isn’t helping. Can you tell him to go away?”

The man in brown smiled and pushed his hat back. “He’s not my friend. He’s my brother. I’m John Wolfe. This is my brother, Reno.” He smiled, but the concern in his eyes lingered. “And you’ve already met Maggie.”

“Wolfe?” Samantha closed her eyes again, shivering when an icy gust of wind blew, and she automatically tensed, making the muscle spasms even more painful. “Grandma’s next-door neighbors.”

John slid a hand beneath her head, gently lifting it. “And if you’re Samantha, we’re now yours. Did you hit your head when you fell?”

Mesmerized by his gaze and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, Samantha involuntarily moved her head against his hand, feeling silly for being so moved at a man’s touch.

Blinking back tears that she hoped he would attribute to pain and the icy wind, Samantha forced a smile. “No. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

A large black SUV, coming from the same direction as the truck and the horse, pulled into her driveway, and within seconds, after the slamming of doors, three more men approached, all with the same coloring as John and Reno.

All wore jeans, boots, cowboy hats, and shearling coats and soon surrounded her.

One crouched at the other side of her head, glancing at John with a frown. “Is she all right?”

John smiled and removed his hand from the back of her head. “Looks like she hurt her back. This is Edna’s granddaughter, Samantha. Sam, this is my brother Dirk.”

Dirk smiled, his hazel eyes sharp and assessing. “Hi, Sam. Let me help you up.”

“No!” Samantha held out a hand again. “Please don’t touch me.”

John pursed his lips. “You know that we can’t leave you out here on the ground, don’t you?”

“I just need a minute. You can all just go. I’ll get up by myself. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need an audience.”

John shook his head. “We’re not leaving until we get you inside and settled.”

Reno thinned his lips and hooked a thumb toward the two other men at her feet. “This is Beck and Zach.”

Samantha eyed Beck and Zach, who both had the same dark hair as their brothers, and attempted a smile. “Yeah. My grandmother told me there were five of you. I guess since I’ve met all of you and you’ve seen me make a fool of myself, you can go.”

Dirk shook his head. “Nope.”