While he completed his purchase, the door buzzer went off again. Bidding the store owner goodbye, he turned…and came face-to-face with Adele.
“Oh!” She drew back. “Hello. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Just seeing what the town has to offer.” He glanced at the attractive young woman beside Adele, whose stylish clothes and painful looking four-inch heels were more suited to a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard than Main Street in Markton. “I’m Ty Boudeau.”
“This is my friend Reese Carter. She’s engaged t-to…” Adele stammered, then recovered. “She lives on the ranch next door.”
Ty’s chest suddenly constricted, and he cautioned himself not to jump to conclusions. Markton boasted more than one rodeo family; Seven Cedars had more than one neighbor.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, and shook the hand Reese offered. “Are you ladies in the market for horse pellets?”
“We were just killing a little time before going for lunch at the Spotted Horse.”
“They serve food?”
“Surprisingly good food.” Reese smiled brightly.
She sure didn’t look as if she’d grown up on a ranch, not with her high heels and the designer sunglasses propped on her head.
“Well, it was nice running into you.” Adele looked ready to bolt, and clamped on to her friend’s arm. “See you later at the ranch.”
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” Reese asked.
“I’m sure he’s busy.” Adele cut in before Ty could answer.
Because she seemed in such an all-fired hurry to get away from him, he answered, “I’d like that very much. Appreciate the invitation.”
Adele’s mouth, usually lush and pretty, tightened.
Finding her discomfort amusing, Ty followed the ladies to the door and held it open for them. They crossed the street at the corner and went up half a block to the saloon entrance.
Inside, Reese informed the hostess her fiancé would be joining them.
“I’ll show him to your table.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Reese peered past the hostess, her face alight. “Here he comes now.”
Everyone looked over to see a handsome cowboy making his way toward them, his swagger confident.
The same anxiety that had gripped Ty that first day at Cowboy College, the one he thought he’d successfully conquered, returned with a vengeance. Too late, he realized his mistake—he’d misread Adele completely. At the least, he should have asked Reese her fiancé’s name before barging in on her and Adele’s lunch date.
Then he wouldn’t be stuck sitting across the table from the man who had beat him in team and tie-down roping last December, stealing the title of World Champion and the Iron Grip sponsorship deal from him.
EACH BITE OF TY’S Swiss-cheese-and-mushroom burger tasted like paste and sat in his stomach like a lead ball. He couldn’t fault Garth Maitland for his unappetizing meal. The guy had been nothing but decent all during lunch. He always was, even when Ty lost to him at Nationals.
Until then, Ty and Garth had been friendly rivals, getting along well, real well even, when they weren’t competing. Not the same could be said when they were in the arena. Both of them were out to win, and a mutual liking and respect of each other’s abilities went only so far. After losing the title, Ty had kept his distance from Garth. Not because he resented the man; Garth had won fair and square. The problem was Ty’s, who felt he was staring his personal failings square in the face each time he looked at Garth.
The lunch conversation, stilted at first, soon settled into a congenial rhythm, carried mostly by his companions. Ty injected a comment every now and then just to keep anyone from noticing his discomfort.
Except one person did.
“I’m sorry,” Adele whispered under her breath, when Garth and Reese were busy speaking to each other and momentarily ignoring them. “I tried to—”
“Not your fault,” Ty whispered back. They were seated together in the booth, the only positive thing about lunch as far as he was concerned. “It’s okay.”
“Really?” She appeared genuinely distraught.
He flashed his best interview smile, hoping to reassure her. “Really.”
She’d tried to avoid this disaster earlier at the feed store. He had no one to blame but himself.
“What brings you to Cowboy College, Ty?” Reese asked, her demeanor curious but friendly.
Instantly, silence descended on the table. Adele gnawed her lower lip. Garth’s eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Ty got annoyed—with himself and the situation. Okay, he’d lost the world championship title and a profitable sponsorship deal. To the man with whom he’d just eaten lunch. No reason for everyone to act as if he had an incurable disease.
“I apologize if I said something wrong.” Reese looked contrite.
“You didn’t.” Ty gave her credit for not ignoring the sudden tension. “I came to Cowboy College for Adele’s help with my new horse.” The glossed-over explanation sounded better than the truth.
“It was a shame about your other horse,” Garth said sympathetically. “And bad timing.”
“It was. But these things happen.”
“They do. My old partner fell and busted his kneecap last September. He won’t be competing again until this fall, and even that’s iffy.”
“Here’s to this season.” Ty lifted his mug of beer in a toast.
“To this season,” Garth repeated, and lifted his own, a glint in his eyes. He was obviously looking forward to the next time they went up against each other.
Determination surged inside Ty. Residing next door to his rival might have some advantages. At the very least, the constant reminder would help motivate him and keep him focused on his goal.
Reese’s glance traveled from one man to the other. “Is something going here on I don’t get?” Garth chuckled.
Ty wanted to but wasn’t able to let his guard down enough to explain.
The remainder of their meal went well, until it came time to pay the server.
“I’ve got it.” Ty reached for the bill.
“No problem.” Garth beat him to the punch by a scant second. “I already told the waitress lunch was on me.” He signed the slip with a flourish.
“All right. I’ll buy next time.”
“Deal.” Garth grinned, and for a moment they were friends again.
Outside the saloon, they made plans to go their separate ways.
“You need to head back to the ranch right away?” Reese asked Adele.
“If you don’t mind. I’ve got a bunch of work at the office stacked up.”
“It’s Sunday. Don’t you ever take any time off?”
“I just did.”
“You work way too hard,” Reese scolded, and slung an arm around Adele’s shoulders. “Come on, we’ll drive you home.”
“She can ride with me,” Ty offered. He’d assumed Adele had driven herself, or he would have offered earlier.
“You don’t have to,” she answered a little too quickly.
“No problem. I’m going that way.”
“I hate cutting your trip to town short.”
“You’re not. I was just thinking of heading back to the ranch.” In truth, he’d been planning on driving down the road to Little Twister Creek and the fishing spot Stick had mentioned earlier. Noting Adele’s hesitancy, Ty couldn’t help himself and pressed the point, if only to see if she’d rather inconvenience her friends than ride with him.
“Why don’t you come by one day for a visit?” Garth suggested. “Have a look around.”
Ty had seen pictures of Garth’s place in various rodeo publications. It was a roper’s dream. Part of him wanted to go, just to check out the setup and salivate. The other part of him resisted. He would, after all, be walking into the enemy’s camp.
“Thanks. I may take you up on that one day.”
“Bring your horse. When you and Adele have worked out the kinks,” he added.
Ty bristled. With competitiveness, not anger. He recognized a challenge when it was issued, and would like nothing better than to take Hamm over to Garth’s and show him what he could expect to see on the circuit next month.
“I’ll do that. Soon.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“I don’t know about you,” Reese said to Adele with exaggerated weariness, “but I’ve had just about as much testosterone as I can handle in one day.” She looped her arm through Garth’s. “It was really nice meeting you, Ty. And I do hope you’ll come for a visit. With or without your horse. Bye, sweetie.” She blew Adele a kiss. “Call me tomorrow.”
“You okay?” Ty asked Adele as they were heading to his truck. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“A little tired. I ate too much at lunch.”
“We can walk a bit if you want.”
“I really should get back to work.”
He was pretty certain there was more to her subdued mood, but didn’t ask, opening the passenger side door instead.
“Sorry about me and Garth back there,” he said as he drove. The ranch was only about a fifteen-minute ride from town. Ty didn’t intend to spend it all in silence. “We probably got a little carried away.”
“It’s understandable. All things considered, I think you two behaved quite well.”
“Meaning he could have rubbed his championship belt buckle in my face?”
“That, and you could have retaliated with something equally petty. It had to be hard for you, sitting there, pretending you weren’t bothered.”
“Not as hard as watching him win last December. You have no idea how much I wanted his rope to land short that day.”
“I do,” she said absently, staring out the window. “I’ve watched men compete in roping for years, and known that no matter how good I was, no matter how hard I trained, I’d never be allowed to compete against them.”
“Do you want to?”
“I do and have. In local jackpots where women are allowed to enter. But it’s not the same as a professional rodeo.”
“You’re the exception. Not many women can go head-to-head with a man in this sport.”
“Not yet.”
Ty had to smile. He had no doubt if a member of the fairer sex could break into professional tie-down roping and pave the path for others, it would be Adele Donnelly.
Which was why he should probably give her every opportunity to help him with his problem.
“Selfishly,” he admitted, “I’m glad you’re not competing professionally.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because after the last few days, I’m thinking you’re the only person who can help me.” Her expression softened. So did a place in Ty’s heart. “Unless you think it’s a conflict of interest. Garth’s your neighbor and friend.”
“No conflict. He understands business is business.”
“Just out of curiosity, have you ever beaten him in a one-on-one match?”
Her green eyes sparkled. “Frequently.”
Ty burst into the first true belly laugh he’d had in months.
Moments later, they pulled up in front of the main lodge. He put the truck in Park but left the motor running.
“Thanks for the ride.” Adele had her hand on the door handle but made no move to open it.
Was she also reluctant for their afternoon encounter to end?
“Thanks for letting me tag along during your lunch,” Ty said.
“Are you serious? It couldn’t have been that much fun for you.”
“There were a few high spots.” Like the seating arrangement.
“Next time I try to warn you—” she gave him a stern look “—pay attention.”
“How ’bout next time we go to lunch just the two of us?”
The pause that followed lasted a little too long.
“I…uh…” She inhaled slowly and squared her shoulders. “Thank you for asking, but I don’t date guests.”
He hid his disappointment with a joke. “Is that one of those rules on the list I haven’t read yet?”
“No, a personal one. Less messy that way when the guest leaves.” Without another word, she pushed open the passenger door and hopped out, giving him the briefest of waves as she climbed the steps to the lodge entrance.
Her abrupt departure had Ty wondering if she’d been there and done that, and been left behind with a wounded heart.
And since he was leaving after the Buffalo Bill Cody Stampede, he certainly couldn’t argue the logic behind her rule.
“WHAT’S WRONG?”
“Nothing, Pop.” Adele had practically steamrolled her grandfather in her haste to get inside.
“You sure?” He studied her with concern.
She suspected he’d been watching her and Ty from the lobby window. “Absolutely. Why would you think there was?” She made her way around the registration counter and into the sanctuary of her small office.
Pop followed her, shutting the door behind them except for a narrow crack—just in case someone rang the bell.
“You’re upset, and Ty looked none too happy, either.”
She was never any good at hiding her feelings. “Reese and I ran into him at the feed store. He wound up joining us for lunch. Garth was there, too.”
Pop harrumphed. “Guess I can’t blame the boy for being a touch prickly after that.”
“Actually, he handled it pretty well.” She gave her grandfather a brief account of the lunch.
“Then why are you acting like you two tangled? Is he mad about taking the beginner class?”
“Not at all.”
Pop lowered himself carefully into the office’s single visitor chair, wincing slightly. When he was settled, he let out a long groan. “Damn hip’s giving me fits today. Must be the rain.”
It hadn’t rained in over two weeks and didn’t remotely look like it was going to anytime soon. “You taking the new medicine your doctor prescribed?”
“Yes, and quit nagging me.” They both knew he should have hip-replacement surgery, but Pop insisted he wasn’t going under the knife unless it was a matter of life and death.
Adele thought his refusal had more to do with her than any fear of hospitals. He worried about leaving the entire responsibility of the ranch and Cowboy College to her.
“And quit changing the subject,” he scolded.
“What?”
“From you and Ty.” His wizened features softened. “You like him.”
Hoping to distract her grandfather, she shook her mouse and roused her computer from its hibernation. “He’s just another guest.”
“You don’t date enough. You need to get out and have a little fun now and then.”
“I went to lunch today.”
“With friends. That’s not the same.”
No? It had felt a little like a date. Part of the time, anyway.
“You’ve haven’t gone out with anyone since that Joe kid from Phoenix.”
“Yes, I have.”
“When? Who?”
Adele searched her brain and came up blank. “I’m sure I have.”
Pop just grunted. His way of saying he was right.
She skimmed the contents of her email in-box, hating to agree with her grandfather. Joe had been her last relationship, and it could hardly be called serious. In fact, none of her relationships since she’d graduated high school had been serious.
“Ty’s a good man,” Pop continued, oblivious to her diversion tactics. “And he’s taken a shine to you. I can tell by how he looks at you.”
“I’m not interested in him except as a guest of this ranch and a student in my class.”
Pop chuckled. “I guess that’s why you were walking away from him earlier like a bee flew up the back of your shirt.”
“I was not!” Adele’s heated denial was met with another grunt. She clicked on the unopened emails in earnest, ignoring her grandfather.
He abruptly sobered. “Is it because he’s a prof
essional roper?”
She didn’t respond.
“They’re not all bad,” his said, his gravelly voice dropping in pitch.
“I know.” She turned and gave him a soft smile. “But men like you are the exception, not the rule.”
“It’s been a lot of years, Dellie. Time you moved on. Put your parents and what they did behind you.”
“I don’t want to talk about them. Not now.”
“Just because your mom and dad were lousy parents is no reason to shut yourself off from love. I won’t be around forever.”
“Don’t say that!”
“You need someone besides an old coot like me to dote on. A husband. Children.”
“You’re more than enough.”
“Get to know Ty. Don’t let him being a professional roper put you off.”
Her grandfather had hit the nail on the head, and they both knew it. Work was simply an excuse. The main reason Adele didn’t date much was because the vast majority of single men she met were unsuitable. Markton was a small town and the pickings slim to begin with. Making it worse, she didn’t date employees or, as she’d told Ty, guests. Most others close to her age were either rodeo men or wannabe rodeo men.
After watching her parents destroy each other’s lives and hers, she’d vowed not to become involved with anyone remotely connected with “the business.”
“He’s leaving in a few weeks, Pop. Even if I wanted to give him a shot, I wouldn’t.”
Before her grandfather could comment, the bell on the reception counter rang. Adele sprang to her feet and called, “Be right there.”
As there were no new guests scheduled to arrive today, she fully expected to see one of their current students standing at the counter, waiting to inform her of a need. At the sight of the lone, middle-aged woman wheeling one small suitcase, Adele came to a sudden stop, every thought flying instantly out of her head.
“Who is it?” Pop asked, hobbling out the office door. He, too, drew up short. But unlike Adele, he wasn’t at a loss for words. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Adele wanted to know the same thing.
The Comeback Cowboy Page 4