BROKEN: A Military Cowboys of Cade Ranch Novel

Book 2: The Cade Ranch Series

by Greta Rose West

Genres: Holiday Romance; Romantic Suspense; Western Romance; Military Romance; Small-town Romance; Second Chance Romance; Romantic Suspense; cowboy romance; military romance; military hero; Second Chance Romance; angsty; small town romance series; contemporary western romance

Synopsis

From Internationally Bestselling small-town western romance author, Greta Rose West, comes the second installment in the Cade Ranch Series, Broken, a veteran/veterinarian second chance love story...

Dean Cade has come home to Cade Ranch from his time as a sniper with the US Military, seven years after he lied and pushed Carolyn Masterson away. But when she returns from veterinary school in England to work at their local clinic, he can’t make himself stay away from her.

He needs her.

But Oly’s a different woman now, and Dean came back broken, harboring a secret that could destroy his brothers. What can he offer her?

Oly’s back in Wisper, and all she wants to do is live her life, take care of horses, and avoid Dean Cade like the freakin’ plague. But she can’t get that brooding, stubborn cowboy out of her head. She knows he’s different—damaged—after his time with the Marines, but she can’t stop thinking about him and about the white-hot night they shared.

When Dean is hired to protect her from a mysterious threat in both their lives, she knows she can’t walk away, but if Dean doesn’t open up and let her in, that’s exactly what she’ll have to do…

And it would break her.

The second book in The Cade Ranch series, BROKEN, is a steamy, second-chance romance about coming home again and learning to forgive.


Trigger Warnings: Contains adult situations and language. Warriors of anxiety/panic attacks/PTSD may be triggered, but there is a guaranteed HEA and good ol' down-home cowboys!

The Cade Ranch Series in order:
Burned
Broken
Busted
Braved
Blinded

Release date: June 3, 2021

Publisher: Punk Rose Press

Print pages: 282

Content advisory: Survivors of PTSD and parental abandonment may be triggered.

Sample

Prologue

Dean

You don’t need her. You have me.

I crouched below the open window of a fallin’ down buildin’ somewhere in Baghdad. Or Mosul. Or one of the thousand gateways to hell we’d been. The old mud-brick house fell in pebbles and stones. Fell from above, shot up from below, flew sideways at my face, stingin’ my skin like the rain whippin’ in the Wyoming wind. Bombs. Gunfire. It pounded all around me and nothin’ but her voice would break through.

She was seven and I was eight. My world crumbled then too. I held onto her hand that day, in my meadow, the little-boy-adventures meadow where my brothers and I played every day of our lives. I held onto the softest hand, lookin’ in the prettiest brown eyes. Even at eight years old, I knew Oly Masterson was special. A little girl with the fight of some obstinate woman from a black-and-white movie, one without sound, and she scrunches her face and stomps her foot, poundin’ her fist in the air. She gets her way. You don’t mess with that woman.

That girl.

You don’t need her. You have me.

She held my hand that day, but really, she held my heart. I never got it back. I figured it was why I could hear her now. Miles and light years and countries and smiles away. Long lingerin’ caresses from her ankle to the soft curve of her neck—lazy—a summer’s breeze of a touch away. But still, I heard her when my heart beat so fast ’cause I thought I might die. Alone. Separated by worlds from my family.

From her.

You don’t need her. You have me.

I wished I did.

I pushed her voice outta my head. Improvise, adapt, and overcome. There was no room in a Marine’s head for a girl. A woman. For regrets. There was only the mission. Only honor, courage, commitment. Country. 

She wasn’t part of my mission. She wasn’t part of my life anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.

But still, even through the fallin’ down rubble and the earsplittin’ sound of the helicopters and gunfire, the punch of bullets into old sun-dried mud stone, I heard her voice.

I wondered, wherever she was with my heart still in her hand, did she feel it throbbin’ and racin’, tryin’ to figure a way out of the mess, tryin’ to find its way back home?