Page 2 of Cowboy Superstar

Secrets always had a way of coming out, and that was exactly what had happened after their plane went down. And now … now Windsor felt a freedom to make mistakes and take chances that she’d never felt before.

Growing up like she had, with her whole life under a microscope since childhood, every move had needed to be calculated and controlled. Image was everything. As long as things looked perfect on the outside, it didn’t matter how big of a disaster it had been behind the scenes.

One big, fake production.

But no more. Now she knew her father’s dirty secret, and shockingly, not only had it not ruined her life and career—yet—it had freed her. All his unrealistic expectations of perfection? Poof. Gone in a single moment of truth.

Now, at thirty-five, she was finally getting the chance to actually live.

And apparently, that meant doing a fully nude scene with Silas Bohannon.

She’d read the script. His character was a rancher who was marrying a mail-order bride from out east. And she was that bride. Her character was his bride, she corrected.

For years, they’d been dancing around each other. She knew he was interested. He’d all but said it. But she had sworn off actors, producers, directors, stunt men, cameramen, studio executives, and anyone else remotely connected to the industry. Then he disappeared.

Last she’d heard, after he finished a fighter film set in New York, he’d checked out of city life and moved to a ranch out in the boonies. She’d not seen him in LA, especially not at one of her famous parties, ever again. And if she was honest … she’d looked. A lot.

Every premiere, awards show, restaurant, party … nada. She only saw him on commercials, trailers, in ads, and on her own TV. For the first time since forever, Windsor felt a shiver of anticipation for an upcoming role.

Anything’s possible now.

CHAPTER 3

Bo slid into the back seat of the Escalade and immediately remembered why he’d avoided LA at all costs these last few years. Compared to the wide-open blue skies, green meadows, and rushing rivers of Montana, the concrete jungle was oppressive. His ranch was freedom, beauty, and God’s country.

But still, he had been drawn back because there was one thing in LA he couldn’t get in Montana: Windsor Reed.

He still couldn’t believe she’d signed on to the project. And now, he had a proposal for the studio that could change everything. All he had to do was try.

CHAPTER 4

Six Months Later

Windsor stepped off the jet in Thompson Falls, Montana, and the first thing she noticed was how good the air smelled and then how stunning the evergreen-covered mountains were.

“Oh, wow, it’s like a set in real life,” Lyric said with a hand shading her eyes. “You can see so far.”

The wonder in her assistant’s voice echoed exactly what Windsor was thinking. Thompson Falls looked like it was a movie. She’d never seen mountains so close to a runway. Granted, it was the smallest airstrip she’d ever landed on, but by far the most beautiful.

“Oh, great. There’s the car,” Lyric said as a massive black truck pulled up nearly to where the jet was parked on the tarmac. “Well, a truck anyway. It has to be for us. Right?”

The driver’s window rolled down, and Lyric stepped toward it with Windsor’s Louis Vuitton garment bag and duffel in hand.

“Y’all must be the ones here for the movie, right? Boss sent me to getcha and take ya to the ranch. He said I couldn’t miss ya.”

“This is Ms. Reed,” Lyric said. “And I’m Lyric, her assistant. We are heading to Granite Point Ranch for the film. I presume that’s where you came from?”

“Yep.” He swung open the door and climbed out of the huge truck. “I’ll get your bags. Don’t worry; I threw a horse blanket down in the back ’cause Boss said you wouldn’t want your fancy luggage scratched up.” The man wore a red-and-blue flannel jacket, baseball cap, tan canvas pants, and cowboy boots. “I’m Ephraim,” he said with a nod at Lyric and Windsor as he reached for the bags in her hands. “Granite Point Ranch foreman. Pleasure to meet you, ladies. Welcome to Montana.”

“Thank you, Ephraim,” Windsor said.

“You wanna hop up in the truck and put these inside with ya?” He shifted both bags to one hand and reached for the door handle.

“Yes, that would be perfect.” Lyric turned to Windsor. “Ms. Reed, after you.”

Windsor walked toward the truck, grateful she’d chosen flat boots for the flight because climbing up into the monster truck would have been tricky in the sky-high heels she was accustomed to wearing.

“Need a hand, ma’am?”