Zeb: A Small Town Cowboy Romance (Cowboys of Devil's Ditch Book 6), page 1
ZEB
COWBOYS OF DEVIL’S DITCH
BOOK 5
VANESSA VALE
Zeb by Vanessa Vale
Copyright © 2025 by Bridger Media
Vanessa Vale® is a registered trademark of Bridger Media.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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 both authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design: Bridger Media
Cover graphic: Deposit Photos: Malchev; Period Images
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ALSO BY VANESSA VALE
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Cowboys of Devil’s Ditch
Trig
Colt
Bray
Beau
Cam
Zeb
Shep
Buck
Hayes
The Hitman and the Fixer
Hannah and the Hitman
Fiona and the Fixer
On A Manhunt
Manhunt
Man Candy
Man Cave
Man Sprain
Man Scape
Man Handle
Man Spread
Alpha Mountain
Hero
Rebel
Warrior
Billionaire Ranch
North
South
East
West
Bachelor Auction
Teach Me The Ropes
Hand Me The Reins
Back In The Saddle
Wolf Ranch
Rough
Wild
Feral
Savage
Fierce
Ruthless
Primal
Rugged
Ravenous
Two Marks
Untamed
Tempted
Desired
Enticed
More Than A Cowboy
Strong & Steady
Rough & Ready
Wild Mountain Men
Mountain Darkness
Mountain Delights
Mountain Desire
Mountain Danger
Grade-A Beefcakes
Sir Loin of Beef
T-Bone
Tri-Tip
Porterhouse
Skirt Steak
Big Sky Boyfriends
Misadventures of a Single Mom
Misadventures with the Mistaken Twin
Misadventures with my Billionaire Boss
Misadventures with my Fake Fiancé
Misadventures and Ms. Demeanor
Steele Ranch
Spurred
Wrangled
Tangled
Hitched
Lassoed
Bridgewater County
Ride Me Dirty
Claim Me Hard
Take Me Fast
Hold Me Close
Make Me Yours
Kiss Me Crazy
Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs
A Wanton Woman
A Wild Woman
A Wicked Woman
Bridgewater Brides
Their Runaway Bride
Their Kidnapped Bride
Their Wayward Bride
Their Captivated Bride
Their Treasured Bride
Their Christmas Bride
Their Reluctant Bride
Their Stolen Bride
Their Brazen Bride
Their Rebellious Bride
Their Reckless Bride
Lenox Ranch Cowboys
Cowboys & Kisses
Spurs & Satin
Reins & Ribbons
Brands & Bows
Lassos & Lace
Montana Men
The Lawman
The Cowboy
The Outlaw
The Billion Heirs
Scarred
Flawed
Broken
Standalones
Relentless
Bride Pact
Rough Love
Twice As Delicious
Flirting With The Law
Mistletoe Marriage
Man Candy - A Coloring Book
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Shep - Chapter 1
Bonus Content
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The West just got Wilder! Meet the cowboys of Devil’s Ditch Montana, one steamy, instalove story at a time.
I’m the university’s star quarterback. I need to keep my grades up, so I’m assigned a tutor. Cameron. Studying with him is going to be boring as hell. Except Cameron’s not a he, but a she. And she’s mine. One look and there’s no going back. The only thing I want to win now is her heart.
1
CAMMIE
There was one last day of midterms and I had so many things on my to-do list, I doubted I’d be able to cross them all off. Laundry wasn’t going to happen until after my last test. Styling my hair into anything more than a sloppy bun took too long. I had child development chapters to review before the exam tomorrow plus a paper on classroom management to outline, but tonight I had to help someone else pass their classes.
On top of my full load, my on-campus job that subsidized my scholarship was being a science tutor. And when did everyone need help? When they realized they knew nothing about what was on the midterm exam outline and had to cram.
My laptop showed it was just before seven. Looking at the tutor portal, it also showed the name of the person I was helping with genetics for the next ninety minutes was Zeb Wilder.
Never heard of him.
I was sure my roommate, Rose, had. Of the two of us, she was the social one. Where I met with other students one-on-one in the quiet of a library with a book between us, she was doing work credit for her kinesiology major as a PT intern for the women’s volleyball team. She got to know all the players on the various school teams and went to all the games. She also went to all the sports parties. Pretty much, she had a social life and knew everyone on campus.
I did not.
I was perpetually up to my eyeballs in homework and classes and nine out of ten times she asked me to go to a party, I said no. I had my eye on the prize, which was my degree and a job as an elementary school teacher.
I glanced around the library, which was more crowded than usual due to everyone cramming for the exams. I was in my normal spot at a four-person table on the far side of the main level, beside the window. Freshman year, I learned I needed to be able to see outside otherwise the hours of studying passed without knowing if it was day or night. It was dark out now, the sun setting earlier and earlier this time of year. It’d even snowed the other day. A dusting and maybe more was expected this weekend. Fall in Montana wasn’t just pumpkin spice lattes and colorful leaves.
Taking off my glasses, I rubbed my dry eyes and wondered if I’d be in bed before midnight.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, Tutor.”
A deep voice had me dropping my hands and blinking.
For a big guy, I hadn’t heard him approach.
I perched my glasses back on my nose and saw that he was smiling down at me. My nipples went hard beneath my white long sleeve t-shirt and cozy, gray cardigan.
I blinked. Stared up at him. Way up. Sandy blond hair clipped short. Blue eyes. Strong cheekbones and square jaw. Prominent chin with that little dent in it. And that mouth…
I swallowed as I eyed those full lips.
I didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t date. Hadn’t had one since freshman year if the guy from English Lit asking me to coffee counted. Since I paid and he texted with his mother the entire time, it wasn’t worth remembering.
This guy? Holy hell. He had to be over two hundred pounds of solid muscle. With me sitting and him standing, he was maybe six feet. Six-one. Or two. He ate his vegetables, that was for sure.
“You Cameron?” he asked, sliding his backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the table. His voice was deep and smooth and he had a relaxed, easygoing manner. As if he didn’t have a care in the world. Or was struggling with genetics.
I nodded, kinda forgetting how to talk.
“Zeb Wilder. We got matched for tutoring. Sorry I’m a little late, I thought you were gonna be a guy.”
I was studying to be a teacher. I was smart. I was articulate. I had lists that I worked through every day. Today should’ve included ogle the hot guy and now I could cross that off.
“Yeah, my mother, too,” I said finally.
He frowned.
“Ultrasound showed a boy, I came out a girl.”
“Lucky me.” He grinned.
Somehow, my vagina let my brain function again and I smiled and said, “I go by Cammie. Have a seat.”
There, that was a reasonable thing to say.
He dropped into the chair across from me, set his big hands on the table.
He stared at me.
I stared at him because there was something about him, something gorgeous. Mesmerizing. Spellbound, that was what it was. I felt spellbound by this guy whose scent–like clean soap and something unidentifiable but rugged–hit me all at once from the few feet that separated us.
I had no idea how long we pretty much played the blinking game because the only reason it ended was because some girl walking by said, “Hey Zeb.”
He looked up, offered her a casual “hey” in return.
I shook my head, as if he’d put me into some kind of trance. Looked around. Everyone was staring at us. People from other study tables to those walking by to even the librarian at the front desk.
I leaned in and whispered, meeting his eyes again. “Why is everyone staring? Are you famous or something?”
“Think they’re all staring at you, sweetheart,” he murmured back.
I frowned, pushed my glasses up. “Me? God, do I have mustard on my face or something? Did my pen explode again?”
His blue eyes roved slowly over my face and I felt it all over.
“They haven’t seen a prettier girl.”
I flushed and rolled my eyes at the same time. “Okay, hot shot,” I muttered. “You don’t have to butter me up. Me tutoring you is a given.”
“You don’t believe me?” he pondered.
I tapped the wooden surface of the table. “This is my spot. In the library.” I was literally pointing out how much of a dork I was. “I lost my pencil a while ago–”
“It’s in your hair,” he commented, his eyes tipping north to study my blonde mess.
I reached up, patted the wildness and there it was. My damned pencil.
“See? No one is looking at me.” I pointed at myself. “Total nerd over here.”
“If I’d known you were here, I’d’ve come to the library years ago.”
Now, I was really blushing. He was complimenting me. I wasn’t sure why. Up until a minute ago, he thought he was being tutored by a guy. No doubt, he had a girlfriend and was just trying to be nice because I was the key to him passing his class. Heck, he probably had multiple girlfriends.
While my body responded to him on an instinctual, visceral level, it didn’t mean that he did in return. It wasn’t like I had guys looking my way. Rose told me I dressed like I found my clothes in a donation box, which was half true. I loved to thrift shop and who was I trying to impress? I didn’t have time for guys and when I did my work study at the elementary school down the street, I wore dangly apple earrings and ugly sweaters to amuse the second graders.
I needed to get with the program. Zeb Wilder was here to pass his genetics class. I was here to keep my scholarship.
“Got your textbook?” I asked. “Maybe you can tell me what chapters you need help on for your midterm?”
2
ZEB
Midterm? Chapters?
I was listening to every word out of her perfect mouth, but I wasn’t hearing her words. All I heard was my brain and my dick both saying mine.
I’d showered and left practice with the guys, heading to the cafeteria to eat a few burgers and a plate of spaghetti, but I’d had to duck out early to make it to the library in time for my required tutoring session. I was pleasantly surprised that my genetics tutor wasn’t Cameron, a guy, but Cammie, a gorgeous girl.
She’d been right when she said everyone was looking at me. They were. I didn’t ever come to the library. I may have been inside once freshman year during the orientation tour, but not since. Fuck, had I been missing out. I was Zeb Wilder, the university’s quarterback. I led the team the past two years–yup, even as a freshman–to winning our bowl games and was working toward the same this year, too.
I had the arm and the charm as my teammates liked to say.
Except there hadn’t been a girl on campus in the two years I’d been here who I’d wanted to charm like I did Cammie.
Why? Because no one seemed to fucking see what I did when I went to the table listed on my tutor sheet I’d gotten in my email sent from my coach. While I wasn’t doing all that great in my genetics class, I hadn’t wanted a tutor. Coach insisted. He wanted me to stay focused, stay eligible to play. A solid midterm grade would ensure that.
Boy, had he fucked up.
Because Cameron was fucking gorgeous and all I wanted to do was to get her to smile. Get her to blush. Get her to kiss me. Get her to scream my fucking name as I made her come.
The best thing of all? She had no idea who I was. She was stumped about people staring at me. She didn’t know it, but it happened wherever I went. I got fist bumps, bro hugs, and ladies saying hi and batting their fake eyelashes at me. The first semester, it had been cool, especially being the youngest of nine in my family.
I got attention here at college. People saw me as the guy who was winning games, not the youngest Wilder brother. Not the little kid. Here on campus, I was the man. Then it got old. Real old, with people thinking because I was the face of the football team, the guy who’d singlehandedly brought wins and bowl trophies back to Montana, that they deserved a piece of me.
Cammie didn’t seem to care that I played football. I didn’t even think she knew I did even though I was wearing my football hoodie.
She was settled in one of the uncomfortable wood chairs with books and papers piled around her. Her laptop was open, but the screen was dark. She seemed dwarfed behind it all, making it very clear that she was small. Breakable.
Her thick glasses didn’t hide her bright blue eyes, round face, pert nose, and narrow but full fuck-me lips. She didn’t have on a lick of makeup and her hair was piled on her head in a way that indicated she may have slept with it like that. It was long, wild, and I had to wonder how far it fell down over her shoulders. Would it brush her nipples–nipples that were hard little points against her white shirt?
Her gray cardigan was thick and soft, perfect for this cold weather we were having, but it looked like something my size. That only made my dick go hard thinking about her wearing my clothes, and only my clothes.
And the pencil she’d lost in her hair? Cute as fuck.
I was fucked. F.U.C.K.E.D. I didn’t give a shit about genetics or football or anything but learning more about her. I wanted to study Cammie.
But I’d learned that nothing drove a woman away more than a psycho and while I wasn’t one, I didn’t want her to think it. That I was obsessed from one look.
When she asked me if I had my genetics textbook, the last thing I wanted to do was study, but that meant being with her. I had the next… eighty-five minutes to figure out a way to see her again outside of tutoring.
I pulled the heavy textbook from my backpack and set it on the table between us. “Yeah, midterm’s tomorrow. It covers the first eight chapters. I’m good except for genomes, specifically whole-genome sequencing.”
“What chapter is that?”
“Six.”
“Let’s jump there.”
She grabbed my book and flipped through it until she got to the section that was really fucking tough.
“What’s your major?” she asked.
“Ag.”
Her eyes widened.
I tipped my head a little. “You pegged me as a business major or maybe kinesiology?”
She smiled and a blush stained her cheeks. “Maybe. How come ag?”
“My family has a ranch. A few hours east of here. I want to help run it so Agricultural Studies was the best fit. I’m focusing on Animal Science and Agricultural Economics.”
She smiled and I felt it in my gut more than a sack in a game. “That’s really great.”
I was used to serious praise when it came to football. Maybe it was well deserved, because I was good at it, but it always felt… fake or someone buttering me up. Her little compliment meant a lot because I knew it was real and had zero to do with the sport.
