Spotlight & Giveaway: Cowboy’s Last Stand by Jill Sorenson

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Jill Sorenson’s new release: Cowboy’s Last Stand

U.S. Marine Jason Reed survived wounds that should have ended him. Instead, he’s stepping into the streets of Last Chance, Texas, to honor a battlefield promise to his fallen comrade.

Haunted by war and torn between duty and the cowboy life calling him home, Jason plans to check on widowed Natalie Luna and move on. But Natalie’s fragile beauty and fierce resilience kindle a hunger he can’t outrun. When a dangerous suitor threatens her, Jason’s protective instincts surge, compelling him to stay awhile.

Natalie is barely holding on, juggling two jobs and a spirited son who tests her every day. She has no time for a charming stranger, even one trading handyman skills for a place to rest his head. Yet Jason’s disruptive presence stirs a longing she can’t ignore. She wants him in her bed, and if he proves worthy, maybe more. But Jason is a man of secrets—dare she trust him?

Can Jason protect Natalie from danger and win her heart? Or will the truth he hides destroy their shot at love?

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Cowboy’s Last Stand 

Chapter One
Men were tiresome creatures.

Natalie Luna might not have reached this conclusion so early in life if she hadn’t worked as a barmaid at a beer joint in the sleepy little town of Last Chance, Texas. But she did, every weekend, slinging drinks for local boys who’d never made good and newcomers who’d lost their way. Last Chance was more of an accidental pit stop than a purposeful destination. Even the name of the town was cautionary, warning visitors to think twice: Watch out for Last Chance! You might fall off the end of the earth!

The Night Owl Bar did brisk business despite the lack of tourists or day trippers. It was a hole-in-the-wall tavern with cold drinks and a warm atmosphere, conveniently located in the center of the historic district. On busy nights, Natalie earned enough to keep a smile on her face, though it rarely reached her eyes. Most of her customers were regulars who knew her history and let her be. Other patrons were just passing through, killing time with a bottle of suds, too wrapped up in their own lives to inquire about hers. A select few—young, single males on the prowl—didn’t know, or didn’t care, about her past. They pressed their attentions with clumsy come-ons and crude invites, as if her favors were on the menu, next to Lone Star beer and chicken wings.

Billy Hendricks, the most tiresome customer of all, had been relentless lately. He was a frequent flier at the Night Owl and a constant thorn in her side. His uncle owned the bar so she couldn’t refuse him service. Her stomach clenched with unease as she approached his table. He had pale blond hair, spiked in front, and a braying, barnyard laugh. She’d already rejected him twice this month. She prayed he wouldn’t go for three.

To her relief, Billy’s attention was fixed on the football game on the big screen. She served his drink without comment, eager to make a quick escape. He pounded his fist on the table to celebrate a defensive play, and she took a step backward to avoid his elbow. The beer bottle she’d just delivered tipped over. Billy scrambled to save it, which resulted in foam spurting over the rim. He took a choking swig and grimaced with distaste.

Natalie didn’t smile at the mishap, though it amused her. She whipped a rag out of her apron to mop up the spill before she moved on. With guys like Billy in the dating pool, it was no wonder she’d sworn off men. She’d become a wife at twenty and a mother at twenty-one. Now, she was a single parent with two part-time jobs and a five-year-old son. She didn’t fantasize about meeting a nice guy or falling in love again. She fantasized about one morning per week—just one—to sleep in.

“Are you deaf?” Billy asked. “I said two longnecks. Dos.”

He held up two fingers in case she needed a visual aid, as well as multiple languages, to understand his order.

Natalie glanced across the table at Billy’s companion, Gabe Luna. Gabe was her cousin by marriage, so they were well acquainted. He was a sweet kid, going nowhere fast. “He can’t drink in here, Billy. You know that.”

Billy’s upper lip curled. “They’re both for me.”

Natalie shook her head and sighed. She wouldn’t ask them to leave, but she wasn’t giving booze to a minor. She had some standards. As she collected empty bottles from the next table, a man she’d never seen before walked into the bar.

It paid to greet customers, so she always watched the door. This man would have caught her attention under any circumstances, however. He caught the eye of every woman in the room. There were three other ladies present at the Owl, and all of their heads turned in unison. She could practically hear a collective intake of breath. Because this man wasn’t a typical customer. He wasn’t a typical anything.

To start with, he was taller than average, with broad shoulders that spanned the doorframe. He wore a straw Cattleman’s hat that added to his height and a Western-style shirt that accentuated his lean physique. He had dark hair, strong features, and an undeniable presence. He looked like he’d stepped off the pages of Ranch Life magazine. Although he was obviously a cowboy, and a stranger to these parts, he was also some kind of traveler. He was carrying a backpack, a heavy-duty, no-joke hiker’s backpack. It was an unusual accessory at the Night Owl or anywhere else in Last Chance.

With a dry gulp, Natalie continued her perusal. She noted his alert stance as he scanned the room, cataloging every detail. When his gaze landed on her, the hair at the nape of her neck prickled with awareness. He removed his hat by the brim and held it to his chest as if paying his respects.

Natalie nodded to the stranger, and he nodded back. Then he shrugged out of his backpack and approached an empty barstool. Letting out a slow breath, she attempted to regain her composure. She chalked up her awestruck reaction to the presence of a good-looking man who clearly didn’t belong here. Hikers were common in Big Bend, where outdoor activities were plentiful. Lost Lake had some pretty campgrounds as well. If he’d come from either of those places, he’d wandered far afield.

Billy took advantage of her distraction by rising to his feet and blocking her path. He also captured her elbow, which angered her. He had no right to touch her. It was a chore to keep her tray balanced and pull her arm free at the same time.

“When are you gonna go out with me?” Billy asked.

“I’m not,” she said firmly. “I don’t date customers.”

“You don’t date anyone.”

Natalie couldn’t argue there, so she remained silent. This time, Billy let her go without making a scene. He wasn’t drunk enough to pose a real problem. Later in the evening, she’d have to keep her distance.

Across the room, the handsome cowboy had settled into a barstool. He turned to watch her as she crossed the space. She wondered if he’d witnessed the exchange with Billy. Her cheeks heated, and her pulse kicked up a notch. She returned to the bar, lifting the hatch. After placing the empty bottles in the recycling crate, she washed her hands and slid a fresh coaster in front of the stranger. “What can I get you?”

He seemed unprepared for the standard question. “A beer?”

She smiled at his uncertain tone. He was even better looking close-up, with a deep voice that soothed her ears. She would describe him as rugged, though his face appeared weathered from experience rather than age. Either way, he was old enough to drink without being carded. He had fine brown eyes, an angular jawline, and hair as black as ink. She detected a faint woodsy scent on his clothes, like campfire and pine needles. After dealing with Billy, this man was a breath of fresh air.

Clearing her throat, she named the three types of beer they had on tap. When he didn’t react to the name brands, she showed him the microbrew menu.

“What do you recommend?” he asked.

She suggested a well-known midgrade lager. It was a solid choice for a man who didn’t drink enough to have a preference.

“Perfect.”

“Would you like it poured into a glass?”

He glanced around the room, where not a single customer drank beer from a glass. “Bottle is fine.”

She popped the top off and set it on the coaster, charmed by his fish-out-of-water vibe. He paid for the drink and left a tip on the bar for her. She collected it with a quick sweep. “You’re not from around here.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your accent,” she said. “And your backpack.”

He took a sip of his beer and seemed pleased with the flavor. “You don’t miss much.”

She wiped down the surface of the bar, though it was already clean. “Are you going on a trip?”

“I just finished one, actually.”

“Oh? Where did you start?”

“Montana.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“You walked all the way here from Montana?” she asked.

“I did.”

“Without stopping?”

“I stopped to sleep at night.”

She stared at him, bewildered. “How long did it take?”

“Four months.”

“Is that some kind of world record?”

He laughed, shaking his head. His teeth were a flash of white against his bronzed complexion. “Not even close.”

Natalie tossed the rag aside. The sound of his rumbling laugh and that deep, masculine voice made her stomach flutter. He had a wolfish grin and dark eyes that gleamed with interest. “You sure about that?”

He nodded easily. “I was on the Continental Divide Trail, a famous long-distance route. The current record is seventy-six days.”

Natalie suspected him of downplaying his athletic feat, which was interesting. Most of the men of Last Chance bragged about their accomplishments. “I didn’t know there was a long-distance trail around here.”

“It goes through New Mexico,” he explained. “From there, I switched over to the Grand Enchantment Trail in Albuquerque. Then I took a detour into Texas.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Why?”

“Why not?” he countered, taking another sip of his beer.

She realized she was prying, which she never did. It was a chore for her to make polite conversation with most customers. He wasn’t her typical customer, however. She wiped her hands on her apron, flustered.

“I guess it seems crazy to you, hiking cross-country.”

“This is Texas,” she said, shrugging. “Everybody’s a little crazy.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

He smiled and arched a brow at her claim, like he didn’t believe it but found her intriguing all the same. She smiled back at him, surprised by the spark of energy between them. She hadn’t sparked with a man in ages. Not since … Mike.

The thought hit her like a splash of cold water. She didn’t reminisce about Mike as much as she used to. She still missed him, but the loss was no longer at the top of her mind, resurfacing every few moments. For almost a year after his death, she hadn’t noticed attractive men at all—unless they reminded her of him.

This stranger didn’t remind her of Mike. She hadn’t immediately compared the two, although Mike had been dark-haired and handsome. She hadn’t even thought about him. She’d forgotten about Mike.

From across the bar, Billy whistled to get her attention as if he were calling a dog to heel. He snapped his fingers in the air for emphasis. Two of his friends, Stan and Steve Stoddard, had joined his table. Billy’s behavior was obnoxious, but she didn’t mind the interruption. She loaded her tray with a trio of longnecks and delivered them to his table.

For the next hour, she stayed busy refreshing drinks for regulars and catering to a group of giggly college girls. Gabe Luna engaged two of the girls in a pool game. The third girl joined the stranger at the bar. She was a bombshell blonde in tall boots and a short skirt. Few men would refuse a conversation with her.

Natalie returned to her serving station. She noted the cowboy’s bottle was empty. “You ready for another, big guy?”

“Sure,” he said.

“How about you, sugar?”

“No, thanks,” the blonde said, keeping her focus on the man beside her. “We’re going to the Boot Scoot after this for line dancing. You should come with.”

He smiled at the offer. “Sorry, I can’t.”

She blinked in confusion—his words didn’t compute. She waited for him to offer a reasonable excuse for turning her down. When he said nothing, she shrugged and drained the rest of her drink. “Suit yourself.”

Natalie removed the stranger’s empty bottle and replaced it with a fresh one.

The blonde adjusted her low-cut top, making sure her cleavage was displayed correctly before she walked away. The cowboy watched her go without regret. Then he turned back to Natalie.

“I’m Jason,” he said, extending his hand.

Natalie’s breath hitched in her chest as she accepted his handshake. His palm felt warm and rough against hers. He’d just sent a sure thing packing, and now he was introducing himself to her? She was flattered, despite herself. “Natalie.”

“Thanks for saving me.”

“Saving you?”

“From that blonde.”

“Was she bothering you?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “She kept dipping her finger into her drink and licking it.”

Natalie threw back her head and laughed.

“I think she wanted to give me a wet willy.”

“I’ll bet she did.”

“I mean the ear kind.”

“I knew what you meant,” she said with a grin. “You have something against blondes?”

His gaze traveled over her dark hair. “Not usually.”

Her face heated at his perusal. He was expressing a preference for her. She looked away, unsettled by the attention.

“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

He made the familiar line sound charming. She glanced around the interior of the bar. “This place isn’t so bad.”

The Night Owl didn’t have a lot of curb appeal, but it was clean and well-organized. She’d helped the owner redecorate a few months ago, and she was proud of the new design. A cute owl motif was repeated throughout the space. Star-shaped lights hung from the rafters above the dance floor, along with a glowing moon. An oversized map of Texas graced one wall. Another wall featured artistic prints of cowboys riding, roping, and wrangling.

“You’re right. It’s better than I expected. I like the lights.”

“Thank you.”

“You decorated?”

“I picked out a few things.”

“You have a good eye.”

She nodded at the praise. It felt nice to be admired for something other than her looks. Customers tended to offer the same tired compliments.

“What are you doing after this?”

Her smile faded. Although she’d fielded this question from men before, she was still caught off guard by it. She was caught off guard by him and the temptation he presented. She’d never had the slightest urge to hook up with a stranger. She rejected guys like Billy left and right. Jason was ten times hotter than the average customer, but she couldn’t go out with him. So Natalie gave him her stock answer: “I’m going home to my son.”

Jason didn’t seem surprised by this news. It was almost as if he’d expected her to say no. “How old is he?”

“Five.”

A crash of broken glass sounded on the other side of the bar. Billy had knocked a bottle off the edge of the table with his cue. The college girls he’d been trying to impress giggled behind their hands as they walked away. They appeared to be laughing at him rather than with him, which didn’t bode well.

Natalie let out a groan of dismay. She grabbed her mini-broom and dustpan.

“Is that guy bothering you?” Jason asked.

“He can be a nuisance.”

“You need some help?”

“Absolutely not,” she said and meant it. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation that Billy would turn into a barroom brawl. She went to sweep up his mess, aware of the stranger’s eyes on her.

Billy was aware of it too. He moved closer to speak with her. “You’ve been flirting with that hiker all night.”

“It’s none of your business,” she said in an even tone.

As she swept the glass into a neat pile, Billy shoved another bottle off the table. It spilled across the floor in a long arc. “Oops,” he said, his lip curled. “Better fetch me another.”

Natalie gritted her teeth in annoyance as Billy returned to his seat. She longed to dump the pile of glass in his lap or pour the remainder of the beer over his stupid head. Although he deserved it, she didn’t retaliate. She needed this job to make ends meet, and it wasn’t wise to escalate him. Billy was a mean drunk with poor impulse control. She looked around for someone to escort him outside.

The bar’s owner, Buster Hendricks, doubled as a bouncer when the need arose. He was also Billy’s uncle, and he wasn’t afraid to throw Billy out. But Buster wasn’t in his usual spot, and her glance toward the bar didn’t go unnoticed. Jason seemed to think she was requesting his assistance. He rose from his barstool and headed her way.

Damn it.

Billy bristled with anticipation, and Natalie’s stomach filled with dread. She expected Jason to make a beeline for Billy, maybe grab him by the collar and yank him to his feet. Billy needed to be taught some manners, but she doubted they’d take.

Instead of starting a brawl, Jason crouched down beside her. He retrieved a stray piece of glass with his bare hand and tossed it on the pile.

Natalie let out a slow breath of appreciation. This cowboy was a class act. His demonstration of kindness and solidarity spoke volumes. It reminded her there were good men in the world, men who respected women. At the same time, she knew Jason’s public show of support would enrage Billy.

“Are you looking for work, man?” Billy called out. “Down on your luck?”

“Ignore him,” Natalie whispered. “Please.”

Jason didn’t heed her advice. He rose to his feet, eyes narrowed. Natalie abandoned the pile of glass and stood with him.

“I heard they need a janitor at the Chicken Hut,” Billy said.

“Why don’t you clean up your own mess?” Jason replied.

Billy donned his signature sneer. “Because I like to watch her do it. She looks so pretty on her knees.”

Natalie felt Jason’s body tense beside her. The storm was about to break. She moved in front of him in an attempt to recapture his attention. “Listen to me,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t let him goad you into a fight.”

“Why not? I’ll win.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder because he was still focused on Billy. “His uncle owns this bar. And his dad is the sheriff.”

Jason didn’t appear swayed by this information. He looked tempted to unleash on Billy, regardless of the consequences. She wondered if he was a man who enjoyed using his fists. He didn’t strike her as an indiscriminate bruiser, but he hadn’t come here to drink or pick up women. Maybe he was some kind of cowboy vigilante. She sensed an undercurrent of danger in him, a capacity for violence.

“Leave him,” Natalie said. “He’s not worth it.”

Jason’s gaze returned to hers, and he gave a reluctant nod of agreement. Natalie squeezed his arm, grateful for the sensible reaction. She also felt a little thrill at the contact because the man was solid muscle. Then she heard Billy’s chair clatter to the ground, and her heart sank. A glance over her shoulder revealed that Billy had leaped to his feet.

Ugh. What a fool.

Billy spread his hands wide and lifted his chin in challenge. If he meant to appear intimidating, he missed his mark. He was a stocky young man, soft around the middle and unimpressive in build. His cheeks were mottled red, like a little boy in the throes of a temper tantrum. Jason was a head taller, with the rangy, broad-shouldered form of a dedicated athlete. They were not an even match.

Billy’s throat worked as he swallowed. He might have realized his mistake, but he couldn’t back down without losing face in front of his friends. Jason didn’t back down either. He stayed as still as a cougar waiting to pounce on prey. One of the college girls emerged from the bathroom. Everyone in the bar went quiet.

Natalie stepped out of the way because she wasn’t going to risk injury to prevent two knuckleheads from fighting. Her irritation mounted as she imagined the property destruction. If the new decorations got damaged, there’d be hell to pay.

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for disaster to unfold.

Billy rushed forward with his fists raised and his neck bobbing like a chicken pecking at feed. Jason’s brow furrowed with confusion rather than alarm. In the next instant, Billy’s motorcycle boot skidded in the puddle of spilled beer. His feet slipped out from underneath him, his arms flailed out to his sides, and he went down hard on his butt.

Natalie gasped at the spectacle Billy had created. It was the pinnacle of poetic justice. Hoisted by his own petard, even.

Billy appeared stunned, as if the impact had knocked the wind out of him. He rolled onto his side, wheezing. The seat of his jeans was soaked. Natalie clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a giggle. The blonde in the denim skirt elbowed her friend, who sputtered with laughter. The Stoddard brothers guffawed and pointed.

Everyone in the bar had witnessed Billy’s big flop, and it was exactly what he deserved for acting like a jackass. Billy scrambled upright, red-faced. Instead of adopting another aggressive stance, he cut his losses and returned to his seat.

The opportunity for violence had passed. Jason stayed quiet, letting the tension fade. Billy didn’t glance in his direction again.

“You’re lucky nothing got damaged but his pride,” Natalie said.

“He’s lucky,” Jason replied. “I would’ve been fine.”

“I was talking about the decor.” She gestured to the photos on the wall. “I’m partial to these prints.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Of course. I apologize for the disturbance.”

Natalie smiled back at him. “Thanks for the help.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Your drink is on the house.”

“I’d rather have your phone number.”

The regret she felt was palpable, a breathing, aching thing. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t want to lead you on.”

He studied her face for several taut seconds. Then he gestured to the jukebox. “What’s your favorite song?”

She named a country ballad she’d danced to at her wedding. Jason went to the jukebox and selected it. The wistful love song started playing. She closed her eyes, awash with memories. Then she pushed aside her heartache and continued doing her job. Jason stood by the jukebox like a sentry, his arms folded over his chest. His posture and expression sent the message that Billy better not make another move. Billy stayed in his seat. Natalie finished cleaning up his mess before returning to her station.

When the song was over, Jason returned to his barstool. He threw some bills on the surface of the bar, gathered his backpack, and nodded a curt farewell. Then he walked out the door without looking back.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Customers came and went. Billy bragged about how he would have “mopped the floor with that guy,” which was ridiculous. He’d mopped the floor with his own ass. She rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Sorry about your new boyfriend,” Billy said to Natalie. “I guess he took a hike.”

The Stoddard brothers chuckled at the dumb joke.

“Anytime you need a real man, let me know.” He pointed to his lap.

Natalie rested the tray on one hip and arched a brow. “That’s big talk for a guy with soggy pants. Tell me, did you piss yourself before or after you fell down?”

Billy scowled at the comeback, and his friends laughed harder. Natalie sashayed away, half wishing she hadn’t sent Jason packing. She didn’t want a boyfriend, and she’d never get over Mike, but damn. She wasn’t dead. Men like Jason didn’t come around often. Why hadn’t she given him a chance? Instead of having a sexy rendezvous with a stranger, she was stuck in a bar with the three stooges.

Billy and his friends left about thirty minutes before quitting time. Natalie cleaned up in a rush, eager to end the evening. She said goodbye to Buster and headed out. Her vintage Volkswagen bug glowed in the light of a street lamp. She unlocked the door, climbed inside, and tossed her purse on the passenger seat.

“Come on, baby,” she said as she turned the key in the ignition.

The old girl was temperamental. Sometimes, she refused to start or made strange noises. To Natalie’s relief, the engine fired up after a few sputters. She drove off in a puff of exhaust, distracted by thoughts of Jason. His intense gaze and gruff voice. The muscled arm flexing beneath her fingertips.

A slapping sound, like a flat tire hitting asphalt, brought her back to the present. Something had broken loose inside the engine. Cursing, she slowed the vehicle down to a crawl. She lived less than a mile away, so she could walk home, but she didn’t want to leave the safety of her vehicle.

Her car shuddered a few times and gave up the ghost. Dark smoke billowed from beneath the hood. She coasted to a park and scrambled out of the vehicle. She almost expected the bug to burst into flames. Instead, it sat there ticking like a cute little vintage time bomb.

Damn, damn, damn!

She grabbed her purse, locked the car, and started walking. Drizzle began to fall as she approached Gregory Park, a frequent haunt for Natalie and her son. Marcus called it Gargoyle Park because of the stone statues guarding the entrance. In the wee hours of the morning, surrounded by halos of mist, they looked downright sinister. Leaves skittered across the sidewalk, giving the impression of footsteps behind her. Natalie glanced over her shoulder. Although she didn’t see anyone, she noticed a sleek muscle car parked on the opposite side of the street.

One of the Stoddard brothers drove a car like that.

Natalie froze in her tracks as the sound of a braying laugh, unmistakably Billy’s, rang out in the still night. She squinted into the darkness ahead. There was a bus stop with a single metal bench about fifty feet away.

A man in a cowboy hat stood near the bench, his fists ready, while three figures surrounded him in a menacing circle.

Jason.

Excerpt. ©Jill Sorenson. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway: Winner will receive an ebook copy of COWBOY’S LAST STAND by Jill Sorenson plus one additional ebook from Tule Publishing of the winner’s choice.

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and post a comment to this Q: What did you think of the excerpt spotlighted here? Leave a comment with your thoughts on the book…

Meet the Author:

Jill Sorenson is a diehard romance fan and the dynamic author of more than twenty romance novels. She’s been featured twice in Cosmopolitan Magazine, and her books have received starred reviews from Booklist, Library Journal, and Publishers Weekly. Most recently, she’s written for Harlequin as Susan Cliff. Now she’s making her comeback as Jill with a fresh start in Western contemporary romance!

Born and raised in the Flint Hills of Kansas, Jill transported to a small town in California. She still lives in the Golden State with her family, where she dreams about happy endings in cowboy country.

Buy: https://tulepublishing.com/books/cowboys-last-stand/

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