Rodeo Romance, Book 3
A Sweet Western Holiday Romance
by
USA Today Bestselling Author
SHANNA HATFIELD
Capturing Christmas
Copyright © 2015 by Shanna Hatfield
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.
Shanna Hatfield
[email protected]
shannahatfield.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Books by Shanna Hatfield
FICTION
HISTORICAL
Baker City Brides
Crumpets and Cowpies
Thimbles and Thistles
Pendleton Petticoats
Aundy
Caterina
Ilsa
Marnie
Lacy
Hardman Holidays
The Christmas Bargain
The Christmas Token
The Christmas Calamity
The Christmas Vow
CONTEMPORARY
Love at the 20-Yard Line
The Coffee Girl
The Christmas Crusade
Learnin’ the Ropes
QR Code Killer
Rodeo Romance
The Christmas Cowboy
Wrestlin’ Christmas
Capturing Christmas
Grass Valley Cowboys
The Cowboy’s Christmas Plan
The Cowboy’s Spring Romance
The Cowboy’s Summer Love
The Cowboy’s Autumn Fall
The Cowboy’s New Heart
The Women of Tenacity
A Prelude (Short Story)
Heart of Clay
Country Boy vs. City Girl
Not His Type
NON-FICTION
Farm Girl
Fifty Dates with Captain Cavedweller
Recipes of Love
Savvy Entertaining Series
Savvy Holiday Entertaining
Savvy Spring Entertaining
Savvy Summer Entertaining
Savvy Autumn Entertaining
Sometimes love arrives softly…
But it storms in like the blizzard of the century for one hunky cowboy.
Life is hectic on a good day for rodeo stock contractor Kash Kressley. Between dodging flying hooves and babying cranky bulls, he barely has time to sleep. The last thing Kash needs is the entanglement of a sweet romance, especially with a woman as full of fire and sass as the redheaded photographer he rescues at a rodeo.
Determined to capture the best images possible, rodeo photographer Celia McGraw is fearless and feisty. Not one to back down from a challenge, her biggest risk isn’t in her work. Danger lurks in the way her heart responds to one incredibly handsome stock contractor.
Will Kash and Celia capture the spirit of Christmas and each other’s hearts?
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To the gentle-hearted…
Chapter One
“Celia McGraw, I know you’re out there,” the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers at the June rodeo in southern Idaho. “Can you please come out here to the arena, darlin’?”
Caught off guard by the request, Celia’s head snapped up and she stared in the direction of the announcer’s box.
“What did you step in now, Celia?” Huck Powell asked as he bumped her shoulder with his.
She lifted a boot-clad foot and pretended to look at it. “Nothing that I know of.” A saucy grin danced across her pink lips as she slipped the strap of her camera over her head. She handed it to Huck, a good friend to her brother and a world champion bull rider. Quickly shaking out her mane of red hair, she took a deep breath and hurried over to the arena gate.
In her profession as a rodeo photographer, she spent a lot of time in the arena, but she had no idea why the announcer had singled her out. After the steer wrestling ended, the rodeo committee had recognized a few individuals and passed out a memorial award. She’d stood with Huck and several of the competitors as they waited for the award presentations to come to a close and the team roping to begin.
Thoughts spinning in a million directions, she tried to determine a reason the announcer would call her into the arena.
At the gate, the rodeo clown, a man she’d known since high school, winked at her. “I’m under orders to tie this blindfold over your eyes, Miss Celia, and lead you out to the center of the arena.”
Celia scowled at him. “What kind of dummy do you take me for? I’m not letting you blindfold me, Cooper. I’ve seen the terrible things that happen when you do. Two weeks ago, I watched you humiliate that poor bareback rider when you convinced him he was in a banana eating competition with four other contestants. You blindfolded him, dragged him out in the arena, and left him there all alone shoving bananas in his face faster than a half-starved baboon.”
Cooper laughed and waggled a blue bandana at her. “I promise there won’t be any contests, games, competitions, dance-offs, sing-alongs, or other such nonsense instigated on my part.”
When she offered him a skeptical look, he held both hands up in front of him. “Honest, Celia, no tricks from me. But I promise you’ll get a kick out of this.”
Slowly releasing a beleaguered sigh, she turned around so Cooper could tie the bandana across her eyes, effectively cutting off her view.
“Ready to do this?” Cooper asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
“No, but lead on.”
The weight of his fingers settled on her shoulder and she clasped his other hand in a death grip. The arena gate creaked open. People whispered around her but she couldn’t understand what they said.
As they moved forward, she lowered her voice. “Don’t you dare let me fall in a pile of poo.”
Cooper laughed. “Would I do such a thing?”
Celia tilted her head toward the clown even though she couldn’t see him. “Yes, you would. In fact, didn’t you do that to a girl last fall?”
“Maybe, but she deserved it. That prissy, uptight princess needed a little earthy substance on her crown.”
Before she could reply, Cooper whipped off the bandana. For a moment, Celia wished he’d put it back over her eyes. He could have possessed the decency to offer a warning about what awaited her in the arena.
Instead of giving in to the desire to kick Cooper with the toe of her boot, she turned her attention downward.
“Are you insane?” Celia glared at the man kneeling before her in the loose dirt of the rodeo arena holding a ring box. A gaudy diamond glittered in the sunlight.
In all her wildest imaginings, seeing Wayne Warshaw down on one knee was the farthest thing from her mind.
He beamed at her and held up the ring box. “Marry me, Celia! Make me the happiest cowboy on the planet.”
Furious, she shook her head. “No! I won’t marry you, you lunkheaded idiot! If you’re operating under the delusion I’m even remotely interested in marrying you, you’ve got feathers and fudge for brains.”
&nbs
p; Twitters of excitement fell to a stunned hush as hundreds of spectators caught their collective breath at her rejection.
“Celia, you don’t mean that!” The spurned prospective bridegroom lunged to his feet and grabbed her hand in his. “You’re such a tease. Give ol’ Wayne some sugar, honey.”
On the verge of losing her temper, Celia glowered first at him and then Cooper as he stood nearby. Unsuccessful in his efforts to hide his humor in the situation, he held out his wireless microphone so Wayne’s proposal and her adamant refusal carried over the crowd.
“What part of ‘I’m not interested’ don’t you understand?” She tried to pry her fingers from Wayne’s clammy hand, but he held tight. Finally, she jerked her arm away with such force she nearly upended him.
He took a staggering step forward, still holding out the ring. “But, Celia, I wanna marry you and I know you…”
“You don’t know a thing about me, Wayne, not a thing. Furthermore, you never will. Now, leave me alone before I sic the law on you for harassing me.” Celia spun around and marched across the arena with her shoulders back and head held high.
Tracy Lawrence’s How A Cowgirl Says Goodbye played over the speakers. Angry daggers shot from her mossy green eyes to the announcer’s booth. The man in charge of the audio equipment tipped his hat to her with a cocky grin.
Offended by the amusement her supposed friends found in her suffering, she wanted to scream. It seemed as if they’d all turned on her during one despicable evening.
Shocked voices rose in volume as Wayne sprinted across the arena and hurried over a fence, out of sight. The roar reached deafening levels by the time Celia made it behind the stands.
The sharp twist of events in the last five minutes left her dazed and slightly traumatized. All of the sudden, her bravado fell away. She shook like a leaf in a blustery winter windstorm as she took a shortcut to her pickup.
Humiliated by the public proposal, she wished she’d never set eyes on Wayne. She’d met him at that very rodeo a year ago when she’d snapped a photo of him team roping with his uncle.
Good-looking and good with a rope, Wayne had been fun to hang out with at first. She’d dated him a few times, but by the third date, he seemed clingy and obsessive.
With her inner alarms sounding an alert, she’d told him she didn’t want to go out anymore and hadn’t looked back. That was months ago. No sensible reason existed why he’d presume she’d marry him.
In light of the scene that played out in the arena, she hoped he’d finally gotten the message she wasn’t interested in seeing him ever again.
Situations such as the disaster she’d just endured made her wish her big brother still competed as a steer wrestler. He and his best friend spent several years as rodeo stars and were part of the reason Celia became a rodeo photographer.
No one used to bother her when the dynamic duo of Cort McGraw and Tate Morgan were around. The two men presented a formidable front to potential suitors, especially those she didn’t particularly like.
Unfortunately, love, marriage, and fatherhood had softened both Cort and Tate. With their heads muddled by their idyllic domestic existences, they were slightly less useful than an oversized teddy bear.
First, Tate had married Kenzie Beckett, a beautiful woman he’d met at the airport. Once their baby, Gideon, arrived, he barely left their ranch, content to stay home as a devoted husband and father.
After a career-ending injury the previous spring, Cort had gone through a rough patch before falling in love with a widow and her son. Kaley Peters had hired him to work on her run-down ranch in the fall and they wed Christmas Eve. Kaley and Cort were blissfully happy. The adoption papers making Jacob, her six-year-old boy, officially a McGraw had been finalized a few weeks ago, adding to their euphoric state.
Celia couldn’t be happier for Cort or Tate, who had always been like a brother to her.
Nevertheless, nothing had been the same since they both quit competing. Even though she had plenty of friends in the rodeo business, or so she thought, Celia missed their teasing presence and the security of knowing they had her back, no matter what.
If they’d been in attendance, she could guarantee the whole debacle with Wayne would never have transpired.
That smart-aleck clown Cooper sure wouldn’t have held his mic out so the crowd could hear every word spoken between her and the knuckle-headed cowboy who bordered on having a creepy personality disorder.
The wise guy running the music wouldn’t have dared to play such an appropriate yet entirely unappreciated song with the looming threat of Cort McGraw cleaning his clock.
Still fuming over the ordeal, Celia paid no attention to her surroundings as she slid between the rails of a fence panel on her way to the truck. She needed a few minutes to pull herself together and eat a handful of peanut M&M’s. The candy-coated nuts never failed to improve her mood.
The rumble of pounding hooves snapped her out of her musings. Terrified, she gawked to her right. A group of bucking horses ran toward her as the stock company moved them from behind the chutes to a waiting stock trailer.
Without time to move forward or back, Celia squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a prayer that her end would be fast and painless.
Shock rippled over her when she was lifted rather than trampled into the dirt. Her eyes popped open, and she looked into a pair of blue eyes filled with concern.
“Someone like you should be smart enough to know better than to do something that stupid, Miss McGraw.” The man frowned at her as he held her across his lap, riding over to the fence, out of the way of the horses and the men on horseback behind them.
Too stunned to reply, Celia gulped and continued staring at him, gradually comprehending she hadn’t been killed.
At least she assumed she hadn’t died, unless angels wore dusty cowboy hats, dark blue chaps, and were breath-stealing handsome.
Those engaging eyes bore into hers, making her heart skitter in her chest while an entire bushel of butterflies burst into flight in her stomach.
She observed her rescuer. He sat tall in the saddle and had muscles to spare, or so she presumed from the way he easily hoisted her off the ground and onto his horse. A hint of light brown hair peeked out from beneath the brim of his hat. The pale blue shirt he wore almost matched the fascinating shade of his eyes.
Celia experienced the most unreasonable urge to run her fingers along the stubbly expanse of his cheeks, down his square jaw, and over his strong chin. Mesmerized by his full bottom lip, she inhaled a deep breath and nearly choked.
The very scent of him hinted at a lethal combination of freshly fallen snow, a warm winter fire, and sweet seduction rolled into one incredibly enticing package.
About to tumble headlong into a yearning unlike any she’d ever known, Huck ran up to the fence and yanked her back to reality.
“Celia! What in the heck are you trying to do?” He reached up and helped her over the panel then set her down beside him. “If you die on my watch, your brother will never let me hear the end of it. Even worse, my wife and kids might kill me.”
Huck handed Celia her camera and stretched his hand up to shake that of her rescuer. “Thanks for saving her bacon, Kash. This girl has had quite an interesting evening.”
“So I heard.”
At Celia’s perplexed glance, Huck studied her for a moment. “You’ve met Kash before, haven’t you, Seal?”
Still incapable of speaking, she shook her head.
“Celia McGraw, this is Kash Kressley of the Rockin’ K Rodeo Company. Kash, this is one amazing rodeo photographer, when she isn’t breaking hearts or blindly walking in front of buckin’ broncs.”
Kash removed his glove and extended a hand to Celia. “Pleasure, miss.”
Celia accepted the hand he held out. A tremor raced up her arm, seared the roots of her vibrant hair and made her wonder if her toes might melt off in her boots.
Determined to pull herself together, she released his hand and took
a step back from the fence. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kressley. How did you know my name? You said it earlier when you were taking me to task for my temporary loss of sanity.”
What could have been the beginnings of a grin lifted the corners of Kash’s mouth upward. “I’ve seen you around a few rodeos. In fact, you aged one of the bullfighters by a decade or two last month when you almost got run over by one of my bulls.”
Celia blushed. While photographing the bull riding at a rodeo, a cowboy behind the chutes caught her eye. Although she knew better, she turned her attention to him and lost track of the bull until she glanced up to see him heading straight for her. Just in time, she scrambled out of the way, aware that one of the bullfighters had been hustling to get to her side.
As the man gave her a curious once-over, she realized he looked a lot like the cowboy who’d unknowingly diverted her attention from the bull that day. “I guess I owe you a double thank you.”
Kash studied her, his face impassive. Powerless to pull her gaze away from his, she’d forgotten anyone else was around.
Huck snickered, forcing her back to the present. “Someday you’re gonna have to quit hiding out in the arena and check out what happens behind the chutes, girl.” He patted Celia on the shoulder as though he encouraged a clueless child. “Now, wish me luck. I need to get ready to ride.”
She gave him a hug and watched him hurry toward the chutes. Her focus shifted back to the man staring at her with eyes that looked like a winter sky — soft blue with a bit of ice around the edges.
The fact he made her think of toasty fires and frosty windows left her disconcerted. After all, it was early summer, pleasantly warm, and the sky overhead was a deep shade of blue.
“Despite what you’ve witnessed, Mr. Kressley, I don’t make a habit of looking for trouble. On a normal day, I’d never have done such a dumb thing.”
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