Confession? I don’t know any real cowboys. I read about them in the novels that my fellow western authors write; I’ve watched myriad TV westerns both new and old and rodeo videos galore. We had horses for fifteen years, so I’ve met lots of

So when it came time for me to write cowboys as characters in my new series for Tule Publishing, Juniper Falls Ranch, I admit I was daunted. Mostly because my heroes have all been pretty much beta guys—kind, sensitive, nerdy men who have no idea how truly desirable they are until my heroines show them. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they’re all pretty confident in their own abilities, they’re just not the swaggering type I always pictured cowboys to be. I’ve never really written alpha heroes because the men in my life, Husband, Son, the friends we are drawn to, are quietly strong, thoughtful men who are always there for me without fanfare or machismo. 

But as I learned more and more about cowboys, I discovered that “alpha” didn’t really define the cowboy heroes I was reading about and watching. The swaggering stereotypical cowboy I’d always imagined was so far off the mark that I was actually shocked … and delighted. That quiet strength, that determination that I’d written into my beta winemakers, veterinarians, carpenters, college professors, and chefs were also hallmarks of the cowboy persona. When I created bronc rider Del Foster and rodeo cutting champion Bo Kennedy, those qualities—gentleness, intelligence, supportiveness, loyalty, steadiness, awareness of their own emotions as well as others—were all things my cowboys could be … and are. 

And okay, I admit I had to learn to curb my heroes’ proclivity to be too chatty—something my critique partners and my editor ding me on even when I’m not writing cowboys, it’s been so very rewarding to create the heroes at Juniper Falls Ranch in Marietta, Montana—strong, brave, gentle men who make readers’ hearts (and mine!) beat just a little faster.

The Cowboy’s Comeback, book 2 in the Juniper Falls Ranch series, released January 29. Here’s a little excerpt that shows the caring character of my beta cowboy, Bo Kennedy as he starts training with his ex, Cassie Franklin and her new horse:

Bo walked around Storm, touching her withers, her back, running a hand over her rump and then back around to the other side to stroke her neck, murmuring all the time. “Good mare. Good girl. You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Storm’s ears turned forward as he came around and Cassie could see that she was listening to him, paying attention to him. He rubbed the mare’s cheek and then under her full black-and-white mane. “You’re a pretty gal.” His tone was quiet, like he was calming a frightened child. “Yeah, you’re a sweet girl.”

Cassie damn near laughed out loud at that one. There was nothing sweet about Storm. The horse was a bundle of energy and nerves that she’d been trying to corral for the last two months. Storm had cow sense. Cassie had seen her cut on the ranch where she’d bought her. She’d even worked her herself when the ranch owner had insisted that he see her ride before he agreed to sell Storm to her. The mare knew what to do and so did Cassie, but for some reason, they weren’t gelling. She knew it in her head but admitting it to Bo Kennedy was just too humiliating.

“Cassie, I need you to relax.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re tight as a tick.” Bo took the lead rope from her and slung it over his shoulder while Storm stood quietly beside him. “Loosen up your shoulders. Shimmy a little bit.”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally.”

Out in the bleachers, Jake hooted. “Yeah, come on, Cass. Let’s see you shimmy.” The others laughed and clapped, and their horses moved restlessly on the fence. But Storm remained quiet, her attention focused on Bo.

“Quiet down, you clowns,” Bo ordered. “Pay attention. You might learn something.”

They sobered immediately at Bo’s sharp tone, but Cassie wasn’t about to shimmy. Instead, still glaring at Bo, she rolled her shoulders, twisted from the waist slightly, and shook out her arms.

“There. I’m relaxed.”

He shook his head and tilted his head toward Storm, his hands still stroking and rubbing the mare’s dark coat. “Nope. She’s relaxed, but you’re not.”

Sure enough, Storm’s eyes were half closed, her ears were forward, and her hind leg was cocked. Her mare, who was usually agitated and ready to jump or flee, stood peacefully waiting. In spite of herself, Cassie reached out a hand to touch the horse’s neck and smoothed the warm hair there. Storm reacted by stepping to the side—away from Cassie.

“She can feel the tension in you.” Bo patted Storm’s other side and murmured. “Easy. You’re okay.” Then he came around and put his big hand over Cassie’s. “You two need to learn to trust each other. You’re expecting her to go crazy. She’s expecting you to shout and tug on her. Time to start over.”

The tingle that his hand on hers caused made her want … Well, it didn’t matter what it made her want. What did matter was that he was talking about starting from the ground up. No way! “I don’t have time to start over. Futurity is only a few months away.”

“You’ll never even qualify for Futurity if you two don’t get your act together. You’ve got to build that trust, establish yourself as the alpha, and then bond with her. You know this, Cass. You had it with Pierre.” He tipped his head and peered into her face. “Didn’t you?”

Cassie swallowed hard. She and Pierre had communicated on a level that she’d never had with another horse. He simply knew what she wanted, and he wanted to please her. She loved him unconditionally from the moment she’d gotten him when she was sixteen, and they’d been an unbeatable barrel-racing team for over ten years.

She hadn’t expected that starting over with a new event and a new horse would be this hard. But Storm had balked and been defiant from the moment they’d landed at Juniper Falls Ranch. She’d worked with Del a couple of times before Bo arrived, and the older trainer had told her exactly what Bo had just said—Storm didn’t trust her. Even old Gus, the grizzled cowboy who seemed to be in charge of the horses and the barn, had shaken his head as he watched her in the arena, trying to longe a wound-up Storm. Something had to change. Maybe it was her, maybe it was the horse. But the only thing she could change was herself, and she wasn’t ready to give up on the mare.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, Bo said softly, “It’s okay. She’s a good one. This girl is aching for some guidance. You’re the one who’s going to give it to her. You can do it.”

About the Author.

Nan Reinhardt is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet, small-town romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled, woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 50 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake. Be sure to follow Nan Reinhardt on Threads.

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