Murdock, p.1
Murdock, page 1
Murdock
Iron Horse Legacy
Book Eight
Elle James
Twisted Page Inc
Contents
Murdock
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Breaking Silence
Chapter 1
Afterword
About the Author
Also by Elle James
Murdock
Iron Horse Legacy BOOK #8
New York Times & USA Today
Bestselling Author
* * *
ELLE JAMES
Copyright © 2022 by Elle James
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.
© 2022 Twisted Page Inc. All rights reserved.
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-62695-462-5
ISBN PRINT: 978-1-62695-461-8
Dedicated to my wonderful assistant Nora who keeps up with me and helps me in so many ways. She’s also a great friend! That’s the best part.
Elle James
Author’s Note
Enjoy other books in this series by Elle James
* * *
Iron Horse Legacy
Soldier’s Duty (#1)
Ranger’s Baby (#2)
Marine’s Promise (#3)
SEAL’s Vow (#4)
Warrior’s Resolve (#5)
Drake (#6)
Grimm (#7)
Murdock (#8)
Utah (#9)
Judge (#10)
Visit ellejames.com for more titles and release dates
Join her newsletter at
https://ellejames.com/contact/
Chapter 1
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at the ranch,” Hank Patterson said as he cinched the girth and dropped the stirrup on the bay gelding he’d selected for Murdock to ride that afternoon.
“I put you off long enough,” Sean Murdock said. “I figured I’d at least let you give your spiel before I told you I wasn’t interested again.”
Hank chuckled. “I appreciate your candor. If nothing else, I want to extend an open invitation to join the Brotherhood Protectors. You don’t have to commit now. It could be when they finish the project at the Lucky Lady Lodge or a year or even two years down the road. I’m a patient man when it comes to hiring the best of the best.”
“I don’t know that I’d consider myself the best of the best, but thanks for keeping the offer open. Right now, I’m happy to work in construction. For once, I’m not trying to kill anyone. It’s satisfying seeing the fruits of my labors in demolished walls rather than the blood-soaked bodies of my enemies.” His chest tightened as images of some of those enemies flitted through his mind.
“I get it,” Hank said.
Murdock nodded. “I know you do. More than any of the civilians who’ve never served as a Navy SEAL, much less volunteered to serve their country in any branch of the military.”
Hank stepped back from the horse and met Murdock’s gaze. “Anyone who has served in combat finds it hard to assimilate into civilian life. Thankfully, being a part of the Brotherhood Protectors, we still rely on our training and skills. More importantly, we have the brotherhood of men who share similar experiences. Men who will have our backs. Brothers in arms. It doesn’t get better than that.” He tipped his head toward the gelding. “See if I lowered the stirrups enough.”
Murdock’s lips twisted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a horse. Even then, it was only for a couple of times.”
Hank laughed. “It’s like riding a bicycle that has its own mind. Once you learn how you never forget.”
“That’s just it…I can count the number of times I’ve been on a horse on one hand. I don’t consider that learning how. I prefer riding my bike.” Murdock grabbed the horn, slipped his boot into the stirrup and swung his right leg over the saddle.
Hank handed him the reins. “Does that feel about right?”
Murdock nodded. “Seems like it.”
“It’s easy,” Hank said as he mounted his dappled gray gelding like he’d been born to ride. Which he had, having grown up on the Iron Horse Ranch. “All you have to do is nudge him gently in the flanks with your heels to get him to go and pull back on the reins to stop. Little Joe is one of the gentlest horses on the ranch.”
Murdock frowned as Little Joe danced sideways. “So you say.”
“You’ll be fine. Just follow me. We won’t go out for long. I wanted to check on the vet who took one of the mares out half an hour earlier. They should’ve been back by now. Sadie wanted to make sure the vet stays for dinner. And dinner will be ready within an hour. I don’t like to keep the others waiting.”
Good. Murdock wasn’t sure how long he’d last on the horse. The saddle was a lot harder than the seat of his motorcycle.
Hank led the way out of the barnyard into a wide pasture dotted with trees.
“Is it a requirement for your team to be able to ride a horse?”
Hank laughed. “Not at all. Up in the Crazy Mountains, you can get around on four-wheelers if you don’t ride. Although, sometimes, a horse can get into places you can’t go with a four-wheeler. And a horse doesn’t run out of gas.”
For the first hundred yards, Hank rode alongside Murdock, keeping the horses at a steady walk. Hank’s gelding tossed his head and danced sideways several times.
Thankfully, Murdock’s didn’t seem to mind walking.
Hank glanced over at Murdock. “Ready to pick up the pace a little?”
Murdock snorted. “Whether I’m ready or not, your horse is ready.”
With a twisted grin, Hank nodded. “He likes to run as soon as he leaves the barn. I’m trying to get him to cool his heels so that he doesn’t think he can take off as soon as we leave the barnyard.”
“Seems a shame to hold him back,” Murdock said.
Hank nodded. “He loves to run.”
Murdock shrugged. “In that case, let’s go.”
Hank frowned. “Just remember—”
“Pull on the reins to make him stop.” Murdock held firmly to the reins. “Got it.”
All Hank had to do was loosen his hold on the reins.
The horse leaped forward in a full gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.
Little Joe’s ears perked, and his muscles bunched beneath the saddle.
“Oh, boy,” Murdock murmured, his own body tensing. He much preferred his motorcycle to the unpredictability of a live animal.
Little Joe lunged forward.
Murdock slipped backward in the saddle, grabbed for the horn and held on for dear life as the gelding raced to catch up with Hank’s horse.
Hank’s mount topped a hill and disappeared down the other side.
Halfway up the hill, Little Joe ground to a halt and reared.
Still hanging onto the saddle horn, Murdock stayed on the upside of the horse. As Little Joe’s front hooves hit the ground, he pitched forward and almost tipped over the horse’s head.
The gelding made a quick turn to the left and ran with his ears pinned back.
Somewhere in the middle of trying to stay on the horse, Murdock lost the right rein. When he pulled back on the other, Little Joe turned left without slowing in the least.
“Whoa!” Murdock shouted.
The horse kept going as fast as he could, heading for a line of evergreen trees with low-lying branches. If he didn’t stop the animal before the trees, Murdock would be scraped off by the first branch he encountered, possibly impaled or decapitated.
He pulled hard on the left rein. “Whoa!” he yelled.
Little Joe slowed a little, spun in a circle, came out of it and continued toward the trees.
Murdock’s only other option was to bail, at the risk of breaking one—if not every—bone in his body. With little time to think, he slipped his boots to the very edge of the stirrups and braced his hands on the saddle horn.
As he lifted in the saddle, movement out of the corner of his left eye caught his attention.
A black horse raced toward him, its slim rider leaning over the animal’s neck, cowboy hat riding low on his forehead. On a collision course with him, the two never slowed.
Murdock didn’t have time to throw himself off Little Joe before the pair converged on them. At the last possible moment, the horse and rider turned sharply in the direction the bay gelding was heading and ran alongside them, quickly catching up.
The rider leaned dangerously sideways, the movement whipping the cowboy hat off his head, releasing a thick red ponytail from beneath.
Though concerned over staying alive, Murdock noted the rider wasn’t a man at all but a female with long, fiery red hair.
She hooked her hand in the left rein and shouted, “Let go!”
Murdock released his hold on the rein and held onto the saddle.
The female wrapped the rein around her saddle horn, sat back in her saddle and pulled on her horse’s reins.
Within less than two seconds, she brought the two horses to a halt just short of a giant pine.
Both horses shifted nervously, their sides heaving, coats slick with swea t.
“Are you all right?” the woman asked.
“I will be,” he responded, uncurling his fingers from their death grip on the saddle, “as soon as I get off this horse.”
“He’s not going to run off with you as long as I have control over him,” she said, reaching out to gather the other rein from beneath the horse’s chin. She spoke to the horse in a calm, soothing tone. “It’s okay. You’re a good boy. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
Murdock pulled his foot free of the left stirrup. “He might be a good boy for you, but I’d feel better with both feet on the ground.”
The woman frowned. “It’s a long walk back to the barn. Do you know how to get back?”
Murdock turned in the saddle, his brow dipping. “No idea.”
She shook her head. “If you stay on the horse, I’ll lead him back to the barn.”
Murdock shook his head. “He might take off again.” He lifted, ready to swing his left leg over.
“You should always mount and dismount from the left side of the horse. It confuses them if you get off on the right.”
“I don’t care if I slide off the back as long as I’m off this horse in the next two seconds.” He sat back in the saddle.
The redhead shook her head and nudged her horse to one side, giving Murdock enough room to dismount on the left.
He quickly dropped to the ground and walked several steps away from the two horses and the one rider before he turned back, perturbed that he had no idea which direction to go. “Which way do I go?”
The redhead sighed. “It will take too long to get back if I walk my horse with you.”
“Then point me in the right direction, and I’ll get there on my own.”
She shook her head. “I won’t leave you out here to get lost again.” She scooted forward, slipped her foot out of the left stirrup and tipped her head toward the back of the horse. “If you don’t trust your horse, you can ride with me. Hop on.”
Murdock held up his hands and backed away. “I’d rather not.”
Her lips thinned. “And I’d like to get back to the barn before dark.” She cocked a challenging red eyebrow. “Now, are you going to ride with me or ride your horse?”
He looked from Little Joe to the redhead and back to Little Joe.
The bay gelding turned his head, eyed Murdock and snorted.
Murdock could swear the animal was setting him up for another wild ride. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“He can sense your fear,” the woman said. “Come on. Put your foot in my stirrup and swing up behind me.”
“On the back of the horse? No saddle?” He shook his head. “No way.”
“Fine.” She slipped over the back of the saddle and settled on the horse’s rump. “You can drive.”
Murdock’s eyes widened. “Nope.” He shook his head. “I obviously don’t know what I’m doing on a horse.”
“A point we both can agree on.” She climbed back into the saddle. “And we’re wasting time. The sun is on its way down. Once it reaches the ridgeline, it’ll be dark out here. I’m not equipped with a gun or a flashlight, and there are wolves and bears in these mountains. So, are you going to get on the back, or are we going to brave the wolves and bears?”
Murdock glanced around, his brow furrowing. The sun was dangerously close to the ridgeline on its descent toward the horizon. He didn’t know the way back, and he wouldn’t put another person in danger of a wolf or bear attack because he was being a wuss about riding Little Joe.
Little Joe stomped his foot and snorted as if to say make up your damned mind.
“Until you and I come to an understanding, I’d rather ride with her,” he told the horse.
The woman’s lips twitched at the corners. She shifted forward in the saddle and left the stirrup empty for him.
“Grab the saddle horn and swing up like usual, only land behind the saddle.” She leaned to her right, giving him the room he needed.
Murdock clutched the saddle horn, planted his boot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the back of the horse, landing hard on the animal’s rump, not quite centered and off-balance.
The horse sidestepped toward Little Joe.
Little Joe snorted and pulled back, his movement arrested by the reins wrapped around the woman’s saddle horn.
With both horses moving and himself barely balanced, Murdock wrapped his arms around the woman’s waist and held on until he got his balance.
She pulled back on her horse’s reins and spoke firmly, “Steady, girl.”
The black mare calmed and stood still.
Murdock released his hold on the woman’s slender waist and straightened.
“You’ll want to hold onto me until we get back to the barn,” she said. “It’s okay. I don’t bite…much.”
“I can hold onto the saddle,” he insisted, gripping the smooth leather.
“Have it your way,” she said and gave her horse a healthy nudge.
The black mare lunged forward.
Murdock slid backward, his grip on the saddle doing little to keep him on the horse.
His rescuer pulled the horse to a stop.
“You made your point,” he murmured and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She gave a curt nod and clicked her tongue.
The mare took off at a steady walk, heading back in the direction from which Murdock and Little Joe had come. At least, Murdock thought it was the right way.
“Is this your first time riding a horse?” the woman asked.
“No,” he admitted. “But this is my first time riding in a decade and the first time on a runaway.”
“Most people never forget how to ride, even after a decade.”
“My riding experience consists of three times on a 25-year-old hack at a rent-a-horse riding stable when I was a teen. I don’t think it counts,” he said.
“Ah,” she said. “That explains it.”
He hated that she was so smug about his lack of riding skills, but he couldn’t argue with her. He had no horse skills to brag about, and she did.
“Considering I’m closer to you than I’d be with a stranger at a Rave concert, it would be nice to know who you are,” he said, his mouth next to her ear, her curly red hair tickling his nose.
She laughed. “I can’t picture you at a rave, much less a rock concert.”
He shrugged. “Granted, I’ve never been to a rave, but I have been to a rock concert.”
“When?” she demanded. “About the time you last rode a horse?”
“Busted.” His heart warmed at the humor in her tone. “I was a teen when I went to my last rock concert in San Diego.”
“San Diego?” she half-turned, her face so close to his he could have easily tasted her lips. His heart skipped several beats before it thundered against his ribs. “You grew up in San Diego?”
“I did,” he said.
“I should’ve guessed you hadn’t grown up here in Montana,” she said.
He chuckled. “What was your first clue?”
“Many, if not all, young men who grew up in Montana have an understanding of horses.”
“And I don’t,” he concluded.
She nodded. “I know Little Joe. If he was running away, he was spooked by something. All it would take to slow him down was a firm hand and some sweet talk.”
“Being as I don’t know Little Joe and what works to get through to him, I was just along for one helluva ride.” His arms tightened slightly around her waist as he recalled the harrowing race across the hard-packed earth, aiming for a painful collision with a stand of trees.
“I can’t believe you were out here riding on your own,” she said.
“I wasn’t. I was following Hank Patterson when Little Joe took a detour.”
She nodded. “Hank will be looking for you.”
“Or what’s left of me after his horse took me on a one-way trip to hell,” Murdock commented.
