Her Rodeo Hero (Cowboys in Uniform)

by Pamela Britton

  He concentrated on breathing in and out. She watched him and tried not to feel miserable. There’d been something in his eyes before she’d broken the news, something that had made her breath catch and her heart beat faster. Something that had made her want to tell him the truth.

  She looked away, shook her head. She should have told him sooner. She knew that. She should have told him that first day they’d met, but if she’d done that he wouldn’t have agreed to train her. And who could blame him? What kind of person would agree to re-teach someone to ride, someone who might fall at their feet and die?

  Colt moved suddenly, slipping out the door before she could say another word, his jacket instantly speckled by the rain. She followed suit, racing around the front of the truck to catch up to him.

  “Colt. Wait.”

  He ignored her. The dogs had started to bark. Or perhaps they’d been barking since they’d first arrived, but she’d been too deep in her own troubles to notice.

  “I want to help.”

  He didn’t say the word, but his answer was no. She could tell by the way he kept on walking. The way he wouldn’t even look at her. The disappointment and disillusionment in his eyes stung her like a slap.

  She’d blown it. She knew that, but she was there to help and help she would. So she followed. The kennels consisted of a long row of sheds to the left of the house. They reminded her of horse stalls except they weren’t as big and the front sides were made of chain link so she could peer at the dogs pacing back and forth inside.

  “The thing is I may be okay,” Natalie persisted. Colt turned and stared at her. She tried not to flinch when she spotted the anger in his eyes. “It’s an inner ear thing, a symptom of my original brain injury and so the doctors are thinking I’m still not healed up. But I think maybe I am. That I might have damaged my inner ear permanently. It might not be connected to my brain injury at all.” She felt as if someone had let the air out of her. “There’s just no way of knowing for sure, not even with all the CT scanners in the world.”

  He’d stopped in front of a shed, a feed room of sorts. When she said nothing further, he turned away again, heading inside the room. He went to the wall and pulled down a shovel. She did the same even though he didn’t ask, didn’t even notice, just opened the first kennel and went inside. The name Samson was written on a miniature whiteboard along the front. At least he hadn’t told her to leave. Natalie went in after him. Samson looked to be a German shepherd, and he walked up to Natalie, tail wagging. She gave him a pat on the head before getting to work. Whatever Colt did, she did, too, all the while wondering if she should have kept her troubles to herself.

  They moved to the next kennel. The next dog looked a lot like the first, but didn’t seem as friendly. It hung back near the far end of the pen. “Will he bite?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Well, he’d answered her. That was a good thing, but he was still angry. No, furious. And so she cautiously set to work. The dog—Juno, according to the name board—sat in the corner watching her as she scraped the concrete floor, filled the water bowl and then, per Colt’s instructions, fed the gorgeous animal.

  “Why do his ears look funny?”

  She didn’t expect him to answer. She could tell the fire of his anger still burned bright, but he did. “He’s a Belgian Malinois.”

  She’d never heard of the breed. “He’s so quiet.”

  “They’re all like that.” He turned and went back to work on the next kennel. She did the same without being told. There were six dogs in all, two Goldens and four Malinois.

  “Is your sister trying to find them homes?”

  They were putting away the tools, Colt’s body language still radiating displeasure, but he didn’t seem as angry as before. She realized then that she’d picked the perfect time to tell him. He’d been able to work his anger off. At least to the point that he didn’t want to kill her anymore.

  “She doesn’t need to try. People come to her.”

  “You mean their former handlers?”

  He snapped closed the lid of the dog-food container. “Sometimes, if they’ve been discharged. If not, civilians are allowed to adopt them, sometimes even local law enforcement agencies. It just depends.”

  She stared down the row of kennels. Even over the sound of the rain on the metal roof she could hear a few of them crunching their dog food, although more than one stared at them intently. The Malinois looked almost exactly like German Shepherds, right down to the brown-and-black coats and piercing, golden eyes.

  Eyes like Colt’s.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She hadn’t meant to blurt the words, but as she’d watched him standing there, darkness in his eyes, she’d known she couldn’t just pretend as if nothing had happened. The undercurrent of tension was the elephant in the room. They couldn’t avoid the subject—not if they wanted to remain friends. Correction. Not if she wanted him to remain a friend. She was afraid he was counting the minutes until he would never have to see her again.

  “Colt?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She had to make him understand. “It was wrong of me, I know that.” She went into the feed room. “But honestly I didn’t think it would matter.”

  “Didn’t think it would matter?”

  The furious tone of his words couldn’t be mistaken.

  “You didn’t think I would care if you came off a horse and died?”

  “But I didn’t. And I won’t.”

  “You’re damn right, you won’t. I’m through helping you.”

  She’d known he might say that. yet the words still hurt. “Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

  “What else haven’t you told me?”

  Beneath his cowboy hat his eyes had gone nearly as dark as his pupils. She took another step toward him. “I’ve told you everything.”

  He didn’t look as though he believed her. He just stood there, as immovable as a stone, eyes just as cold.

  “Would you like to talk to my neurosurgeon?”

  His mouth tightened before he said, “Why? So he can tell me not to let you ride? Because you know that’s what he’d say.”

  Her gaze dropped because she knew he was right. She should have been honest with him. Should have told him the situation right from the beginning.

  “I had nothing left.”

  Only as she said the words did she finally comprehend her actions. How messed up was that? She took in a deep breath for courage and looked him in the eyes.

  “I was in the hospital for months. When I got out I was up to my eyeballs in debt and barely able to walk. All my clients had jumped ship, and I had no place to stay and nothing ahead of me but a long recovery.” Just talking about it brought it all back. The fear. The sorrow. The hopelessness. “And then I went out to the barn to see my horses. I knew I was going to have to sell them all, and so I went out to take pictures of them, but when I entered Playboy’s stall...” She took another step closer to Colt, so close now she could feel the heat radiating off his body. “He turned and looked at me, and then he nickered and I just couldn’t do it. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his mane and I knew that somehow, some way, I’d keep him. That I’d ride him again. That’d I compete on him again one day.”

  She felt the familiar burn of tears on her lashes. There had been a time when all she seemed to do was cry. A time when she’d wondered if it might not have been better if she’d died. Then she’d realized she did have something to live for, and it’d brought her back from the brink of depression.

  “My little horse is the reason I forced myself to get better. The reason I walk as well as I do now. He got me through one of the worst times of my life and, to be honest, it’s not just that I want to ride him. I need to ride him.”

  She wasn’t certain her words had gotten through to Colt, but she’d said her piece. Natalie was angry with herself when she felt a tear drop to her cheek. She brushed it away, calling hersel
f a fool as she stared down at her toes. She couldn’t fault him for being angry. She would be, too, if she learned one of her riding students had deceived her in such a way.

  He started to move past her again and Natalie was unable to contain her disappointment, which was why she snatched at his hand. Why she tugged him toward her, silently asking him not to leave, begging him with her eyes to understand.

  “It was wrong of me,” she admitted, holding his gaze. “But I needed to ride. I needed to be with my horse. I needed him to help me get through some of the worst times of my life. I couldn’t sell him and I couldn’t let him sit in a stall and rot, and so I did something about it. Good or bad. Right or wrong. That was my decision.”

  She glanced down at their hands. His fingers were so big and rough compared to her own. His nails were short but well kept and she wondered, just for a moment, what they would feel like against her skin...

  That thought came out of nowhere, so startling that her gaze shot to his as if he might somehow have gleaned what she’d been thinking. He didn’t blink and his eyes had gone dark. His hand tightened around hers.

  “I’m sorry,” she heard herself say. She squeezed his hand back and then before she could talk herself out of it, leaned toward him. He didn’t move away, didn’t lean into her. He didn’t move at all. A million thoughts floated through her mind. How broad his shoulders were. How, despite his brusque demeanor, his eyes always had a hint of kindness in them. Her free hand lifted to his cheek. “Do you understand?”

  What are you doing? She asked herself.

  Asking him to kiss me, she admitted. She wanted to touch him and hold him and tell him without words how sorry she was for keeping her health problems from him and how badly she felt about his own terrible past. She could see in his eyes that he’d been thinking about it. That he knew how important horses were to her. She’d found a kindred spirit.

  He didn’t resist as she moved toward him, but neither did he make it easy on her. She had to stand on the very tips of her toes in order to press her lips against his. One second, two. She tipped her head the other way, her tongue slipping out to swipe his lower lip.

  And it changed.

  One moment he was immovable. The next he’d jerked her up against him.

  “I do understand,” he muttered against her lips.

  His hands splayed wide as he pressed them against the small of her back, and his head lowered. She came down on her heels. His mouth opened and then they were touching in the most intimate of ways, a hot caress that allowed her to taste him. Honey, chocolate and just a hint of coffee.

  Perfect.

  His lips fit her mouth seamlessly. He angled his head just right. His mouth was sweet and warm and she had a distant thought that she’d been waiting for his kiss her entire life.

  His hands began to shift, moving down her back and then slipping beneath her jacket. The warmth of his fingers made her tremble, or maybe it was something more, something that warmed her middle and sent shivers down her legs and then back up her thighs.

  He pulled back. They stared down at each other for a moment. Natalie felt his fingers slip away and she knew from the look in his eyes that he’d come to his senses.

  “That was a mistake.” His voice was a near growl, making him sound as if he’d gone from beguiled to betrayed. “I should get you back to my ranch.”

  Never had she been so confused. She wanted to capture his hand again, to tell him to not leave, but she was afraid she’d already pushed him too far.

  “Colt, please.”

  He left the feed room as if the place were on fire. She stayed behind, wishing for just a moment that she wouldn’t have to ride in the truck with him.

  The rain began to pour even harder. The noise on the tin roof nearly drowned out the sound of his truck when it started up.

  I won’t ever see him again.

  The thought nearly brought her to tears once more. She liked him. A lot. Too bad he no longer liked her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The drive back to Colt’s place was one of the most uncomfortable journeys of Natalie’s life, despite being so short. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t look at her. Didn’t acknowledge her existence. When she stepped out of his vehicle and into the rain, he sped off—heading goodness knows where—without so much as a goodbye.

  She sat there, her short hair capturing the downpour, strands acting as miniature drain spouts, and watched as his taillights faded behind a mist of rain.

  “Damn, damn, damn.”

  She thought about following him. Thought about texting and asking if she should make arrangements for Playboy. Wondered if she should just wait for him to come back.

  She didn’t. She’d already made him mad. She didn’t think hanging around would endear her to him any further.

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T CALL. Didn’t text. Natalie debated about what to do up until the moment her friend Jillian knocked on her door.

  “You going to let me in?” Jillian asked when she spotted Natalie peering through the curtain.

  In a flash Natalie knew Colt had told her friend what had happened.

  “Well?” Jillian asked.

  Too late to dodge the bullet now. Reluctantly, Natalie opened the door. Jillian peered at her through green eyes that blasted anger. “You were told never to ride again?”

  Just as she expected. That cat was out of that bag.

  “Good to see you, too,” she said, opening the door wide so all her neighboring tenants wouldn’t get an earful. She’d been looking for cheap when she’d first gotten out of the hospital. She’d found it in a not-so-nice part of town, the upside being that she wasn’t far from Via Del Caballo Stables. The downside was that she shared a parking lot with low-lifes, druggies and newly minted college graduates. She considered it a temporary stop in her life, but that didn’t mean she had to like the single-story complex with the thin walls and the drive-up-to-your-front-door parking.

  “I mean, come on, Natalie,” Jillian said, moving past her, the rhinestones on the pockets of her jeans catching the light. “You never thought to mention that to me or Wes or Colt? No wonder he’s so livid.”

  Livid? He hadn’t seemed livid when she’d kissed him.

  She’d kissed him.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d done that. But he’d liked it. She’d reviewed what had happened at least fifty times through an entire sleepless night, and she knew she wasn’t mistaken. He’d felt something. She’d felt it, too.

  “I was going to tell you.”

  She saw Jillian glance around her apartment. It’d been nearly a year since her wreck and Natalie wondered if Jillian did the same thing she did, comparing the place to the cottage Natalie used to live in at Uptown Farms. Cottage. She huffed inwardly. More like a house. Compared to the seven hundred square feet she had now, Uptown Farms had been a palace.

  “Were you?” Jillian asked.

  She flicked her angular bob, the black strands coming to rest across her cheeks. Natalie wished she could appear as stylish as her friend with her short hair.

  “For goodness sake,” Jillian added. “I was there that day Playboy took off on you. What if you’d fallen off then? What if you’d died on the ground in front of me? What then?”

  Natalie splayed her hands in mute apology. “I heard it all from Colt. Please. I don’t need to hear it again. I know what I did was wrong.”

  Jillian’s black brows rose nearly all the way to her hairline. “Wrong and selfish and foolish to boot.”

  Natalie didn’t argue. While her health was a personal issue, what she’d done was like going to a doctor and neglecting to mention a heart condition when she knew she might get surgery. Ethically, she should have told the professional she was working with. The question was, how to make it up to her friend...and to Colt.

  “I can’t stop riding, you know.” The words came out of her mouth unbidden. “I told Colt I needed to ride my horse, and I meant it.”

  Jillian to
ok a seat at the pitifully small kitchen table. The chairs were plastic with aluminum legs that had long since lost the caps on the feet. They made a scraping noise on the floor as Natalie settled into a rickety chair opposite her friend.

  “Goodness, what a mess.” Jillian shook her head and leaned back. “Colt wants you to take Playboy back. He says he won’t be party to you killing yourself. He said to do it this weekend while he’s at the Golden State Rodeo.”

  “He wants me to take him back?” She’d known it was coming, but it still didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  “Sooner rather than later.”

  She nodded, wracking her brain for how she could fix things. “Is Sam performing with him?”

  Her friend cocked a head at her curiously. “Not this weekend. Not until they get the new act sorted out. Why?”

  “Maybe Sam will help with Playboy.”

  “Sam will take Colt’s side.”

  Yeah, she probably would—the other reason Natalie had lain awake and tossed and turned. She might be foolish for wanting to ride again, but she wasn’t so foolish as to ride without someone’s help. Not anymore. Just the few short weeks she’d spent with Colt had been immeasurably helpful. Proof that she should keep going with someone on the ground. Chances were she could find someone through word of mouth, but that would take time.

  “I guess I’ll have to go it alone for a little bit.”

  “No.”

  Jillian sounded so adamant and so horrified Natalie knew she’d break her friend’s heart if she went behind her back. Could she bear to lose another person she cared about?

  No.

  “Any word on Colt’s nephew?” Natalie asked. Maybe a change of subject would help clear her mind.

  “They’ve started aggressive chemo, to be followed by some kind of immune suppression therapy. They have to kill all the blood cells.” Jillian’s green eyes turned sad. “Good ones with the bad. Poor little kid won’t know what hit him.”

  And Natalie worried about never riding a horse again. Suddenly, her problems seemed so small.

  “Maybe I should send him a present or something.”

  Jillian nodded. “Adam and his mom will be down south for a few weeks. He’ll be allowed to come home once his first round of chemo is finished, but I imagine he’ll be feeling pretty poorly by then.”