Wounded Cowboy - Jan Irving.pdf

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A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Wounded Cowboy
ISBN #978-0-85715-715-7
©Copyright Jan Irving 2011
Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright October 2011
Edited by S. F. Swift
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination
and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or
places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form,
whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of
the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound
Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil
proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator
of the artwork.
Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL,
United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature
readers. This story has been given a
heat rating
of
Total-e-melting
and a
sexometer
of
2.
Uncommon Cowboys
WOUNDED COWBOY
Jan Irving
Dedication
To J.C. Owens
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:
BlackBerry: Research In Motion Ltd.
WOUNDED COWBOY
Jan Irving
5
Chapter One
Luka was dying. Pain radiated from his back. Slow tears trickled down his face and
dropped into the patches of snow underneath him.
At least he was alone here. Sometimes when the nightmares came, more and more
often, he thought he was back with
them.
Whimpering, he curled into the foetal position. The wound on his back pulled and
oozed more blood. He hugged himself like he had done so many nights.
He needed someone.
He should be hungry. He hadn't been strong enough to hunt for some time. But his
belly was sunken, just another tight pain like the rest of him.
He groped for his knapsack, the only thing he’d been able to salvage when he’d
abandoned the old blue truck. He had to sit up to squint at his journal in the harsh light,
flipping through pages, his fingers cramped and swollen. As much as he needed to express
himself, he didn’t think he could manage it anymore.
Pages and pages of drawings, all of
him,
Luka’s dream man, his healer.
He’d started dreaming about his healer when he'd been a captive. He remembered the
first time he’d tried to draw him his fingers had been crusted with his own blood, but when
he managed a part of the man’s face, scratched into a cedar wall, he’d forgotten his swollen
lip, his broken ribs.
He’d stared at the man in the light of the single candle he saved for special occasions,
feeling something… He wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t pain, though it made his chest
ache.
Now looking at that face he could lie down again, feeling familiar peace. He only had a
pencil, so he couldn’t fill in colours, but Luka knew his vision had grey eyes with squint lines
at the corners and had rugged features, bronzed by the elements. His hair was brown and
shaggy with threads of white at the temples. He had big hands, gentle hands, healing hands.
Sometimes when Luka was really sore, when just turning over made him whimper from
pain, Luka would picture those caring hands on him.

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