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(Download PDF) Sugar Hill Ranch A Western Small Town Steamy Romance Leanne Davis Full Chapter PDF
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SUGAR HILL RANCH
REED RANCH SERIES, BOOK TWO
LEANNE DAVIS
CONTENTS
Content Warning
Newsletter Signup
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
Epilogue
Next in Series
Excerpt
Other Books by Leanne Davis
About the Author
CONTENT WARNING
Please note this title deals with divorce, strong language, sexual situations, and
mature content matter. It specifically touches on memories dealing with a child’s
death.
NEWSLETTER SIGNUP
M aggie W hitlock woke up the instant she felt the mattress depress
beside her.
Her heart thudding with anxiety and fear, the body beside her
belonged to a stranger. Right there. Her breath caught, and she
froze in full terror. Cold sweat covered her in an instant.
Someone was sitting on the bed with her.
She was finally enjoying a deep sleep after lying awake for hours
with insomnia.
Her sleeplessness was grounded in fear. She was scared out of
her senses to be here, so far from anybody else, so she forced
herself to categorize all the strange night sounds she heard. Half the
night she tried to identify all the noises. That screech belonged to an
owl. That horrible groan came from the roof or maybe the floor of
the impossibly old house. It was still settling and seemed to talk to
her. Dating over a century, Asher recently renovated it with all the
modern conveniences and décor, but its bones were still ancient. The
creepy noises she heard in the middle of the night were all
innocuous and traceable.
Finally, she convinced herself there were no scurrying rats, mice
or psychopaths outside stalking her.
How could her mother be so heartless? Maggie was pondering
that thought while satisfying her quest to explain the curious night
noises. She seethed with anger at her mother.
Not at the husband who left her.
Not at herself for failing to realize her husband planned to leave
her.
Not at being abandoned with three young kids to raise.
She was all alone now.
That was what started her insomnia, which now prevented her
from getting any sleep. Weeks ago, her mother hammered the final
nail into her coffin.
Her mother was responsible for bringing her out there. Out in the
middle of nowhere. Literally, nowhere. Not a quirky, sweet, escape-
like destination, but actually, nowhere.
She was on a ranch. A working cattle ranch with a stupid, old
house that didn’t match the area where it was located. The large,
gorgeous, stately mansion was totally refurbished for its century old
age. It was attractively situated in the middle of a range of
mountains that overlooked the remote Rydell River Valley.
Maggie’s mother, Isla Whitlock thought Maggie would be more
comfortable on the ranch with her three children than in Isla’s single
bedroom apartment. Isla lived above the cupcake shop that she
owned and operated in downtown River’s End. Isla ditched her
whole family and moved across the state of Washington to settle in
River’s End. After getting divorced a few years ago, she wanted to
start a new life. She bought the dilapidated bakery in town and
called her new business Cowboys & Cupcakes, staging the grand
opening at the age of sixty-one. Additionally, she also managed to
find a boyfriend.
A boyfriend.
Her mother was getting laid but Maggie wasn’t.
That horror still haunted Maggie. After witnessing her mom, clad
only in a man’s shirt, kissing the owner of the shirt, Maggie was
scarred forever. Her mom’s new rancher boyfriend was hotter than
any man Maggie ever dated, specifically her husband, and that fact
both startled and traumatized her.
Her mom’s new boyfriend turned out to be AJ Reed. His son,
Asher, wanted to rent out the old farmhouse and voila! Maggie and
her kids were unceremoniously shuffled into it.
Sugar Hill Ranch.
After navigating the long, winding road that wasn’t even paved
with gravel, she had to avoid all the pot-holes on the single dirt lane
and that instantly became a point of stress for Maggie. She
ascended the steep elevation, and she almost cried in utter dismay.
No. Her mother could not actually expect to leave her here. All
alone?
She stared out at the vast land that stretched before her. Where
the hell were they? Transplanted from normal civilization to a vast
wasteland? To the only spot on earth where no one else existed?
She couldn’t see another house anywhere. Just bare land. Grass
land. A few groves of trees dotted the infinite acreage. Many kinds
of trees that she never saw before. And of course, the hills and
mountains.
AJ and Isla had just pulled into the place where Maggie was
doomed to stay. For a short while. Temporarily. Not permanently.
She reasserted that intention to her sinking heart as she parked her
car next to AJ’s truck.
This was not forever. None of it. Not the ranch. Not her
occupation there. Not River’s End. Nor the collapse of her marriage.
Yes, that was forever. With a shudder, the grim realization sunk
in, yet again, and she knew her marriage was over. Done. The shock
took far too long to register in her brain and the ensuing
consequences of that in the long term, for herself, her girls, and the
rest of her life were still unknown.
This rural purgatory was now her home after getting dumped
and abandoned. At least her mother filled the cupboards and
refrigerator with food and other supplies. She also helped Maggie
make up four beds with fresh linens and stocked all the bathrooms
with fluffy towels and sundries.
Maggie didn’t share her negative thoughts with her mother. She
didn’t tell her mom she detested the place, and its inconvenient,
apocalyptic location or that she was absolutely terrified to stay there
all alone. She couldn’t muster the strength to oppose her mother’s
suggestion that she come here and stay with her three children, so
she tacitly complied.
Begrudgingly, she had to admit, from a purely esthetic
perspective, it was a grand, resplendent place with breath-stealing
landscapes and vistas.
But Maggie didn’t cherish having to view the gorgeous
landscapes and vistas in pitch black darkness with only the stars and
moon for light. Never mind, being there all alone.
Isla helped her set up the house with special touches she’d come
to expect from her mother. She was initially devastated when her
mother suddenly pulled up roots and moved across the state. Isla
was a crucial part of their daily lives and then poof. She was gone.
Isla was Maggie’s confidante, best friend, and everything else she
could possibly be.
Maggie never expected to miss her mom so damn much.
Knowing her mother preferred to be all alone, clear across the whole
state, rather than with her family members, pierced her childish
heart. She refused to accept the new reality until she had to.
Maggie’s someday soon divorce came three years after her
parents’ divorce, and the trauma returned with all of its original
vengeance.
Her churlish attitude towards her mom and AJ ensued shortly
thereafter. She drove out to River’s End because she needed her
mother’s support and counsel after her husband left. Finding her
mother not only successful, but also happy and having sex with a
new man blew Maggie away. She knew by her mother’s smile and
demeanor that AJ Reed pleased her mother very much.
That was almost more painful than knowing her mom had moved
on. Maggie never saw that side of her mother before. Her mother
was never so happy with her dad. No. AJ fulfilled her mother’s
desires, unlike Martin Whitlock who only satisfied his own. Her
childhood memories were instantly thrust into a tailspin.
Her parents’ marriage wasn’t anything like what she believed it to
be. When it ended so did many of Maggie’s childish beliefs.
Now, Isla was happy, fulfilled, and fully expressing herself. The
stark contrast between the placid, quiet, stay-at-home-mom version
of Isla with this new, shiny, confident, amazing and sexy Isla was
like night and day.
But this new Isla wasn’t the mother that Maggie knew and
remembered. At times, she felt like she lost her mother even though
her mother was right there.
Maggie arrived unannounced at Isla’s place of business without
any warning, her three kids in tow. She was weeping and
heartbroken over her cheating husband. And what did her mother
do? Everything she possibly could. She welcomed Maggie and her
grandchildren with arms wide open. When Maggie sobbed and
fretted, she immediately asked her to stay right there with her in
River’s End.
George, Maggie’s husband was already off with someone new. A
stranger. That mattered because it hurt. Not because she was a
strange woman, but because George preferred someone else to
Maggie.
Maggie loved being a stay-at-home mom, which she did for more
than eight years, ever since she had Caisley.
And she couldn’t stand to live in the house she once shared with
George. That was why she left Olympia and drove to River’s End.
She had custody of the three children now although her cheating
husband got visitation. She drove the kids to a public place halfway
to George’s home so they could have for their first visit with their
father.
That’s why she was alone on her first night at Sugar Hill Ranch,
unable to fall asleep until she finally did.
Then her worst nightmare came true. The very subject she tried
to convince herself was impossible, that no homicidal maniac would
dare to come all the way out there and break in because she was all
alone, came true. Her kids were safe with their dad and Maggie was
simply trying to settle into her transitional housing.
AJ was also helping her until an emergency on one of his many
ranches called him away. He kissed Isla and gave Maggie a quick
wave. “I’ll touch base with you tomorrow. Sorry, about this. It’s this
heifer’s first baby and she’s having a tough time with it.”
Maggie blinked at what constituted an emergency in this new
world of ranches and cowboys. She had no clue what that might
mean. But seeing how AJ roared out of there, it was important to
him.
So Isla finished helping her settle in. She was hesitant to leave
until Maggie finally waved her off. “You can’t babysit me forever,
Mom. I have to figure this out.”
Isla hugged her daughter. “I’m sorry all of this is happening at
once.”
“You certainly didn’t cause it.” She closed her eyes in her
mother’s warm embrace. “Mom, you—you’ve done everything you
could to make it tolerable. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you
had to go through this on your own. And for all the years in-
between.”
Isla laughed as she leaned back to swipe her hand over Maggie’s
blonde curls and smiled, “Oh, honey. I love you.”
“I was so mad but it was never toward you. I just didn’t know
how to direct my anger, and Dad was already off and running with
his new flame. But you were still—”
“There. Yes, I know. Sometimes, that’s all a parent can do. Just
be there, although it’s hard, it’s okay. I know your heart, Mags. I
know you never meant to hurt me.”
“I could have been nicer.”
“You could have. And you are now. I didn’t realize what you were
going through either.”
Maggie smiled and jerked her head away. “Yes, overcoming your
parents’ divorce just as your own marriage goes south at breakneck
speed, well, it’s no excuse but it overwhelmed me at the time. I
thought things would improve after the baby was born, but no.”
“Just come with me to the apartment until the girls come back.”
Oh, how Maggie wanted to. Darkness was creeping into the
windows downstairs, and she threw her head back and tried to
shore up her nerves. No. She had to start taking care of herself. She
used and abused her mom for too many years, far longer than any
adult should. It was time to be a grownup and stop relying on her
mom. “No. I’ll be fine, Mom.” Such a lie. “The quiet will allow me to
decompress. I haven’t had any time to myself in years, maybe it’ll do
me some good.” A bigger lie.
But Isla bought it. With three kids no older than eight, yeah, she
might adore some alone time. Especially after being separated. But
here? Maggie couldn’t imagine how to relax long enough to find
peace or a new perspective.
All she felt was terror.
After scrambling upstairs, she pulled the shades down, shut the
bedroom door and filled the room with lights. She sat there with the
TV blaring until two am before she turned it off and the lights. A
crack of light from the bathroom provided a soft ambiance.
She gradually convinced herself there was no psychotic lunatic
coming to kill her.
Until he showed up.
Someone entered the house and was in her bed. Her eyes flew
open and she was fully awake in that moment.
Her initial numbness gave way to sudden action. She had to be
quick and sharp or she’d lose whatever advantage she had. She
wondered what the nighttime stalker wanted. Sneaking into her
house, the bedroom, and ultimately, her bed without any noise or
disturbing her seemed to be the MO of an accomplished killer. Why?
Why? Why? She lay frozen while staring wide-eyed at the barely
visible ceiling.
What should she do?
He was breathing softly. Not aggressively pawing her. He wasn’t
doing anything.
He was simply beside her!
Why?
Fuck. Shit. Damn. What the hell? She was so perplexed by his
inaction she didn’t know how to react.
Finally, she grabbed the weapon she stashed under her pillow.
Grasping it with clammy hands, she lunged at him in one fluid
movement.
In a ruthless attack, she pounced on his throat with the sharp
blade.
She saw no other avenue for escape.
M ack lay still for a long , pronounced moment. The sharp weapon
remained at the center of his throat. The body on top of him was
female. No doubt of it. Her body was lithe and she smelled of a
sweet, floral scent. Breathing heavily, her entire body trembled
above his.
Why was a strange woman in his bed?
Drunk and half naked, he never noticed her.
But she noticed him.
Obviously.
He kept his hands flat on the bed. Fighting his instinct to grab
whoever was attacking him and throw them against the wall to bash
their head with a bloody splat, Mack overcame the urge and tried
very hard to be reasonable.
Fortunately, his split second of hesitation allowed him to come up
with a reason. Thank God.
He must’ve scared her. This strange woman. Her harsh breathing
and trembling hand made that pretty evident. Who else was in the
house? He had no idea. But a woman was in here… sleeping. And
she awoke to a strange man in her bed in the middle of the night.
Naturally, she panicked while trying to protect herself. He was
glad he didn’t hurt her, in his initial awareness of her presence. His
entire body remained tense even though he was motionless.
She moved and accidentally pressed the blade too hard into his
neck. He feared she could stab his fragile throat just from her
nerves. His only choice was to disarm her before he got hurt. He
regretted his next move, but it was necessary to defuse and
neutralize the situation. Later, he’d try to calm her down by
explaining he was no rapist. Nor a nighttime stalker, nor a psycho.
He was simply a drunken cowboy, the recently appointed foreman of
the ranch, and completely unaware that anyone had moved in to
rent it. He was seeking nothing more than a warm, soft bed.
She was never a consideration in his mind because he didn’t
even know she was there.
She was filled with terror already so this could only exacerbate it.
But Mack’s priority was merely keeping his throat intact. Mentally
counting to three, he grabbed her weapon-bearing wrist in his right
hand and flipped her under him all in one fluid movement.
She screamed, predictably, and thrashed around like a shark on a
line. Her super-human strength bucked and twisted under his body
weight, which he used to subdue her. Half covering her with his own
body, he pinned her wrist to the mattress and pressed hard on it. His
unrelenting pressure finally convinced her to release the weapon.
At that moment, the beam of light from the bathroom shone on
her, the poor woman whom he unwittingly attacked in bed.
He knew her. Shit. Did that make it any better or only worse? He
doubted the situation could get any worse.
Maggie.
Maggie Whitlock lay under him. She was still trembling, crying,
whimpering, and thrashing.
He nearly collapsed. No. Damn it. No.
He was fighting in bed with his boss’s step-daughter.
He jumped away from her, straight off the bed, and recoiled as if
she were a nuclear bomb he had to escape.
The worst thing was: Mack doubted she knew his identity.
CHAPTER 2
M ack cringed . Her screeching protests hurt his ears. The evening
went from terrible, to tolerable, then plummeted to the worst ever.
Girls. Two blonde girls and a baby. An infant. She was only a few
months old.
Maggie Whitlock came with a ready-made family.
Images from his meeting last month with AJ Reed about the
foreman job, that could be in jeopardy now, flashed through his
mind. AJ said Maggie shrieked like a kitten caught in the jaws of a
Rottweiler, or some such comparison. Mack readily agreed after
hearing it for himself, but this time, it was justified.
AJ pointed Maggie out to Mack as they sat in Isla’s bakery. All he
saw were her blonde curls and pretty face. She looked soft and
warm, with the-girl-next-door kind of vibe.
Dressed down in shorts and a t-shirt, since it was the middle of
summer, he didn’t think too much about her. The two little girls with
blonde curls, identical to their mother’s hair, looked like clones.
Maggie was holding the newborn, who wore a little hat. Mack
thought Maggie was cute until he saw the newborn. Swiftly as that,
any interest in Maggie instantly vanished.
Mack always avoided single mothers, especially new moms, so
there was no hesitation on his part to ignore her.
Her high-pitched opposition to their situation brought him back to
the present.
He understood her concerns and she was right. She didn’t know
anything about him. His near miss with death after invading her bed
didn’t bode well for him either. Things seemed to only get worse.
And the biggest pisser of the whole fucking situation? Mack
would be the one who got kicked out. He knew who the loser had to
be in this standoff. She’d start whining to AJ and Isla, and they’d
give the house to Maggie because she was Isla’s daughter and her
stupid grandkids needed the room, of course. The kids trumped all
his chances. Where could he go? Apparently, he was good enough to
work on the ranch but not good enough to share the house with the
Royal Princess and her regal offspring.
He hoped the Rydell River Ranch had some open positions for
employment. They provided a steady income for him for more than
fifteen years. His job with AJ came with much more freedom and a
huge raise. AJ gave Mack a real chance to build something up here.
He jumped on Sugar Hill Ranch when AJ offered him the choice of
several other locations.
In the beginning, he thought he’d be working with Asher Reed,
whom he liked and respected. The guy was cool, level-headed, and
commanding. His superior techniques in farming and ranching
allowed Mack to do his work without being micro-managed by him.
Then AJ asked Mack to take full control of the whole damn ranch.
And Asher said he could live in the house.
This gigantic house.
The mansion on the property.
His head spun and his stomach hurt. Too much damn booze the
previous night combined with the stress of possibly relocating left his
stomach and mood sour.
He felt especially sour at her. Whether it was her fault or not,
Maggie Whitlock was an unpleasant surprise to Mack, for various
reasons. It didn’t matter, Mack blamed Maggie.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “We can’t do anything about it
tonight. I’ll sleep in a room downstairs, and we’ll give AJ a call first
thing tomorrow mornin’.”
She frowned, watching him walk out of the room.
He was grateful to have enjoyed the master bedroom for the
short while that he did. There was another bedroom downstairs
through the kitchen. It was a nice bedroom, nicer than any other
place Mack ever lived, but he wished he could luxuriate in the
master bedroom a little longer. That experience turned out to be no
more than pie in the sky.
He doubted the Princess would consider moving. Did he offend
her by pointing out she needed someone handy around? He
insinuated that only a dude could fill the bill. Was he being sexist?
Probably. He was an amazing worker, a jack-of-all trades but he
would have respected absolutely anyone who possessed the same
caliber of skills that he did.
She could have offered him the best bedroom in the house, but it
never occurred to her. Being the foreman, she assumed he deserved
so much less than she. Sexism is a two-way street sometimes.
Chivalry was stupid. He never saw himself as a knight in shining
armor. He gave her the best bedroom without an argument. Yet,
there was no logical reason why she should have it instead of him.
Stomping loudly down the stairs, he passed the living room and
walked through the kitchen to a hallway, passing a small bathroom,
until he found the bedroom.
Inside was a full-sized bed. Not the huge king-sized bed that he
left in the master. This bed was big enough for one guy, sure, but
not nearly as comfortable. He sighed and wondered why it bothered
him so much. Was he just getting old?
No.
Yes.
The consequences. He’d definitely have to find other housing.
That shrill, whiny, cute, little mom with three kids would take all the
oxygen out of the room. Anyone would choose her over him.
She had three damn kids.
He had tools, skills, and an unparalleled knowledge of horses.
Nothing else.
Aside from the king-sized bed, he never got a chance to try out
the whirlpool bathtub in the master bath either. Another missed
opportunity.
No chance of it happening now.
He punched the pillow, rolled over, and eventually passed out.
CHAPTER 3
Jos nyt tuo Pekka tuossa olisi oikea mies, niin älyäisi toki hävetä
vanhuksen edessä, jonka äänessä ei ole mitään uhkaavaa — surua
vain. Pitäisi tunnustaa olleensa tyhmä ja avuton leikkipallo tässä
kohtalossa, joka miestä näin on paiskellut. Mutta Pekka tunnustaisi
mieluummin olevansa vaikka roisto kuin leikkipallo. Pekka ei osaa
vielä nöyrtyä. Sitäpaitsi häntä tietysti harmittaa näinikään joutua
kolttosestaan kiinni kuin koulupoika. Siksi hän epäluuloisena
murisee:
"On ja ei ole. Tänään iltajunalla hän meni, eikä kukaan tiedä mihin.
— Muuta ei minulla olekkaan asiaa. Nyt vain tahtoisin tietää
kummalle meistä tämä asia tästälähtien kuuluu."
Tulee kai paha olla, sillä pian alkavat jalat uudelleen haparoida
maata. Kädet tarraavat vesiränniin. Pekka nousee riipuksista
sukkelasti jaloilleen, repäisee huivin kaulastaan, ja hengittää syvään.
Lahja: En.
Lahja: Ei.
Lahja: En tiedä.
Lahja: Niin.
Pekka: Siinä ainakaan ei ole mitään pahaa. Päinvastoin siinä
vasta lienee kylvetty meidän onnemme itu. — Sinä luhistuit minun
silmissäni jo aikoja sitte, muutamana juhannusyönä. Mutta minä
iloitsin siitä. Sinä tulit silloin ihmiseksi. Etkö nyt iloitse siitä että
minäkin olen vain ihminen — parempi siis kuin epäjumala?
Lahja: Niin.
Lahja: Pois.
Pekka: On kyllä, sentakia että sinä olet sen äiti. Siten te olette
minulle samantapainen asia kuin kristityille Uusi Testamentti.
Lahja: Olemmeko me sinulle asioita, eli asia? Mikä sen asian nimi
sinun kielelläsi on?
Lahja: Kyllä.
Pekka: Rajattomasti?
Lahja: Niin.
Pekka: Luulenpa että voimme heti palata kotia. Pue päällesi; minä
puen
Taimin. Juna lähtee tuossa tuokiossa.
Lahja: Mitähän tästä tulee? Tuntuu niin oudolta kuin olisi edessä
uusi elämä.
Valkea: Elämään.
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