Her Rodeo Hero (Cowboys in Uniform)

by Pamela Britton

  “That’s going on Facebook,” Claire said.

  “Not just Facebook, the Twitterverse, too, I bet.” She nodded with her chin toward the scene in front of them. “So far, so good. At least your brother no longer looks like he wants to kill me, unlike the last time we were together.”

  She felt rather than saw Claire’s puzzled stare. “What do you mean?”

  A glance at Colt’s sister’s face revealed what Natalie had suspected. She didn’t know about their argument. “Colt and I sort of had a disagreement.”

  “I knew it! I could tell something was going on. What about?”

  She wondered for a second how much to tell her, but then decided to hell with it. She needed an ally and Claire just might be it. Goodness knew Jillian and Wes had taken Colt’s side. If it were up to them they’d cover Natalie with Bubble Wrap for the rest of her life.

  “I neglected to tell him something and he got a little angry about it.” Colt’s sister tipped her head as she waited for an explanation. “Something kind of important.”

  “Such as?”

  Natalie liked Claire, and it brought home just how much when she felt a rush of guilt at the thought of confessing her sins. Oh, well.

  “I was told never to ride again.” She said the words in a rush, as if getting them out quickly might help. “As in to never, ever climb on a horse again.”

  “Why not?”

  Okay, big breath. She still hated to say the words. “If I fall off, odds are, I might die.”

  No response. Natalie watched as Claire’s eyes went wide. “Why?”

  “There’s no way to know if my brain is completely healed. They can’t just open me up and look, and scans can only tell them so much. The fact that I still have equilibrium problems is a big red flag. I could wait for my ear problems to go away, or I could just take the plunge. Since I don’t want to stay off horses for what could be years, I decided to take my chances.”

  “Oh my goodness.”

  That pretty much summed it up. “Colt didn’t take the news well.”

  “No. I imagine he wouldn’t.” Claire tipped her head toward her brother. “He’s kind of a stickler about safety. Stems from our childhood when my dad would beat the you-know-what out of him for failing to check a girth or buckle a chin strap.”

  That took her by surprise. “You mean the same man that put Colt up on a runaway horse was a zealot for safety?”

  Claire’s gaze shot to her own. “Colt told you about that, did he?”

  Natalie nodded, but she wasn’t certain Colt’s sister saw it. Her gaze had fixed once again on her son, and Natalie could see emotions gallop across her face as she watched the scene in front of her. “That was the least of our father’s sins.”

  Should she push her? “I heard he was a bit of a drinker.”

  Claire’s gaze hooked her own again. “A bit?” She huffed. “He was drunk more than he was sober.”

  That made Natalie draw back in surprise. “Really?”

  Claire’s expression changed in a way that Natalie didn’t understand, not at first anyway. The woman slipped in front of her again, blocking her view. “If I tell you something, you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell Colt that I told you.”

  That sounded ominous. “Sure.”

  Claire glanced over her shoulder at her brother. The sadness draped over her face again, her green eyes turning as sad as sparrows.

  “My dad was more than a bad drunk.” She took a deep breath and paused a moment before saying, “He was a piece of work that would beat Colt within an inch of his life for the slightest infraction.”

  Natalie wasn’t surprised. “I’d heard he could be rough.”

  “He was way more than rough. He’d do...other things. Like that deal with the runaway horse. He didn’t do it because he was drunk. He did it because he was mean. Evil. Some days I swore that man was possessed by the devil. He’d turn that temper on me sometimes, but Colt was always there to run interference for me, and for Chance, at least until he left for the Army.”

  Why had Colt gone back home to nurse him then? Why had he taken over his business? Sure, she’d known there was some tension between them. She’d sensed that. But this? This she would never have figured.

  “Once, my dad got so angry at Colt he picked up a bridle and whipped Colt with it. The reins tore through Colt’s denim shirt. It left scars. Physical ones and emotional ones. He still has them.”

  Natalie asked the question burning on her mind. “Why did he come back?”

  “You mean to nurse our dad when he was sick?” Claire swiped her hair out of her face again. “I was dealing with my own problems. My husband was sick. He died when Adam was just a baby. I didn’t have time to deal with Dad. Chance was in the Army. Colt was at a point where he could either reenlist or get out. Most men would have let a father that bad rot, but not Colt. Even in the Army he’d always been the one to jump in and save the day. He’s highly decorated. Did you know that?”

  Somehow, Natalie wasn’t surprised.

  “He’s the most heroic man I know, but inside he’s deeply damaged,” Claire said sadly.

  Natalie felt as if she were inside a snow globe, one that’d been shaken and then flipped right side up. The snow in front of her faded away and she suddenly understood. She knew why Colt was so standoffish. Why he closed himself off from the world. Why he didn’t want to get too close to people.

  “My Lord,” she heard herself say.

  “I think my dad was jealous of Colt from a young age. He knew his son was a better horseman, a better trainer, hell, just a better person. I was terrified of riding, but who wouldn’t be when they knew the penalty for forgetting to buckle a bridle. Colt didn’t let that get in the way. He kept at it, and if there was a horse my dad couldn’t ride, Colt would ride it instead. Drove our dad crazy.”

  “It made Colt even better.”

  Claire caught her gaze. “Exactly. It was a double-edged sword. My dad was evil. No doubt about it, but where Hank was brutal and unfeeling, Colt was gentle and soft. Our brother Chance used to say there wasn’t a horse in the world Colt couldn’t train.”

  That was why Jillian had told her to go to him. Her friend had known he’d be perfect for her. Did she know about his past, too? Natalie would bet she did.

  She didn’t realize she’d been staring at Colt until Claire said, “You like him, don’t you?”

  Her immediate inclination was to deny it, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “Of course I do. He’s been wonderful to me.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Claire admonished her with her eyes. “You like him like him.”

  Natalie couldn’t deny it. That kiss had changed everything. Although maybe it wasn’t that kiss. Maybe it was the time he’d rested a hand on her thigh, the look of approval on his face doing something to her insides. Or the time she’d watched him ride Playboy, so perfectly brilliant with her horse, so amazing to watch. She’d been left breathless. And then afterward, the way he’d touched her. The kiss had been spontaneous, but it’d cemented what she’d known deep down inside. He had a gentle soul.

  She was drawn to that soul.

  “I really do like him.” She glanced at Claire. “Like him a lot.”

  Colt’s sister smiled softly. “Good. He likes you, too. That’s why I wanted you to know about his past. I’ve watched over the years as women have made plays for my brother, but he just puts them off.”

  “Like Sam.”

  Claire nodded. “Like Sam, but she’s not right for him. She’s too...superficial.” She must have realized that sounded bad and so she added, “I mean, she wears too much makeup, and always has to have the fancy jeans. Loves attention. I honestly think she wants to date Colt for the wrong reason. She sees him as her ticket to the limelight. Colt might be a rodeo performer, but it’s not because he craves fame. He does it for the horses. That and he can make a living at it. Being successful is just the icing on the cake.”

  “He is
good at it.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s a good man, too, Natalie. He really is. Unfortunately, he never lets a woman close enough to see that.”

  Colt must have sensed they were talking about him because he looked up. Natalie smiled and nodded. Colt leaned toward his nephew and said something, but Adam hardly noticed. The next instant he made his way toward her.

  “Don’t give up on him,” Claire said quickly. “He deserves his chance at a happily-ever-after and he’ll need a woman like you, someone who refuses to quit, who won’t take no for an answer, someone with kindness in her heart.”

  Natalie felt strangely close to tears. She appreciated Claire’s vote of confidence, but she doubted Colt would make it easy. To be honest, she wasn’t certain she would ever break through his cool reserve.

  But suddenly, she wanted to try.

  * * *

  THEY’D BEEN TALKING about him.

  Colt knew it the moment he spotted Claire’s guilty face. His sister had never been any good at hiding her feelings.

  “Whatever it is she’s told you, it’s not true,” he said.

  He saw surprise on Natalie’s face, but then she smiled, a different kind of smile than he was used to seeing. Gentle. Warm. Almost shy.

  “Actually, I’m pretty sure it is true.” The gentleness turned into a kind of sadness. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you.”

  After seeing his nephew bask in the glory of Hawkman and the joy on the faces of all the other sick children who’d gotten to visit with the famous comic-book character, well, Colt almost told Natalie she could have all the minutes she wanted.

  “Sure.” He could tell she wanted to apologize. And he would accept. More than that, he would make it clear that he understood. “There’s a coffee shop inside the cafeteria if you want to go down and grab a cup.”

  “That sounds great.”

  Claire waved goodbye. Natalie followed him, but it was hard to exit the room with so many people crammed inside. Little did they know, they’d attracted quite a crowd outside the room, too. Doctors and nurses, even what looked to be a maintenance man, and then Rand Jefferson’s PR people, one of whom nodded and waved to Natalie.

  Did Natalie know Rand Jefferson? Colt had been trying to puzzle that out. He’d assumed the hospital had arranged the visit with Natalie’s help, but every once in a while the star would catch Natalie’s eyes and smile in a way that seemed far too personal. He wondered whether they might have been lovers at one time.

  He’d hated that thought, and it shocked him how much. Yeah, he and Natalie had kissed, but that’d been a moment of weakness. It wasn’t as if he planned a future with her. He’d known for a long time that he’d never get married, never have kids, never have any of that. Relationships were too messy. Look at his parents, and look at what Claire had gone through. Far simpler just to avoid the whole process. Still, he appreciated Natalie’s efforts. Whatever was between her and that movie star was her business, not his.

  But it still bothered him. Damned if he knew why.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They took the elevator to the cafeteria level, a huge open area that had Natalie marveling at the way they’d managed to make it look like a food court in a mall.

  It smelled like third grade. Natalie paused for a moment and wondered why, smiling when she realized it was the spaghetti and baked bread. Today, though, the scent mixed with coffee. Scattered men, women and children sat at tables decorated with pink balloons that said MOM on them. There were the occasional doctors and nurses, too, but for the most part it was filled with family members. The sight saddened her. So many people; so many moms; so many sick children.

  “Over here,” Colt said, leading her toward a kiosk that sold brand-name coffee and was surrounded by tables with green patio umbrellas. They took their place in line while Natalie scanned the menu board for her favorite coffee drink.

  “Did you hear Rand Jefferson is visiting the oncology ward?”

  A young brunette in a bright blue smock leaned toward her companion, another pretty nurse, both of them with their hair pulled back.

  “I heard,” said her friend. She wore a blinking red light that had been pinned to her lapel. It flashed the word Mom.

  “I’m hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of him on his way out.”

  Colt exchanged glances with Natalie. It just blew her mind that they were talking about her long-time friend in such hushed tones. It made her laugh.

  She caught Colt staring at her.

  “My treat,” he said. The look he gave her made her uncomfortable for some reason.

  When the two nurses walked away, still gibber-jabbering about Randy, it was their turn to order. Natalie was still trying to figure out what she’d seen in Colt’s eyes. She ordered her favorite sugary-sweet drink, one with whipped-cream topping, little candy sprinkles and more calories than a serving of chocolate mousse. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

  “Thanks,” she said, saluting Colt with her drink. “I needed this.”

  They took a seat at one of the round tables. It always struck her as silly that the business placed umbrellas indoors. Wasn’t like they might get rained on. Not unless the fire sprinklers went off.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  She hadn’t planned to. There was just something about the way he went to staring at his white cup—a plain coffee. He had half-moon circles under his eyes. Eyes that seemed more sad than she’d ever seen them before. Mussed hair. She liked him without his hat, she thought to herself. He had nice hair. She had the urge to run her fingers through it or maybe brush aside a lock that’d fallen over his tan forehead. He had crinkles along the sides of his eyes. The deeper parts were white, a testament to how much time he spent in the sun.

  “I’m fine.”

  No. He wasn’t. Sam had told her he’d been burning the candle at both ends. Racing home after a performance, catching a few hours of sleep, then driving south to visit his nephew, only to turn around and head back home so he could take care of chores. He’d rebuffed almost everyone’s offers of help. Except on the weekends. He couldn’t be in two places at one time, and so they’d all been pitching in to take care of his ranch and his sister’s place when he wasn’t around. Jillian had tried to tell her to stay away. Natalie hadn’t listened. What Colt didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Stop frowning at me,” he muttered.

  Was she? She took a sip of her coffee before saying, “You need to slow down.”

  That wasn’t what she’d come down here to say. She’d been all set to apologize to him again. To beg his forgiveness. Ask if he’d reconsider helping her, but she was kidding herself. Even if he did want to help her—and she had a feeling nothing had changed about that—he didn’t have time to devote to training Playboy. Not like before. His life was in shambles right now and the last thing he needed was for her to put even more pressure on him.

  He had ignored her commentary on slowing down, she noticed, as she took another sip of her chocolate coffee. “I mean it, Colt.” She set down her drink. “The work you do. Performing with large animals. Accidents can happen if you’re not paying attention. Ask me how I know.”

  Those gold eyes of his narrowed. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  Stubborn, obstinate man. She’d never met someone who could blow so hot and cold. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to apologize again for what happened.”

  “How’s Playboy?”

  And there he went brushing her off again. “He’s doing great. I actually cantered him all on my own again.”

  “Loped.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Western riders call it a lope.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She smiled. “I sometimes forget.”

  He lifted his drink to his lips and Natalie followed the motion, transfixed by the way moisture gathered on the lower one, the memory of how he tasted making her look away. Goodness. Her cheeks burned.

  “So you’re not going to give up riding.�
��

  Her chin shot up. “I told you I wouldn’t.” And she hadn’t. She’d found someone else to help her. “I took your advice. I’m trying hippotherapy and it seems to be really helping. Sam is lending me a hand, too.”

  His lashes had swooped down. His whole body had tensed, too. Clearly, he didn’t like that she’d chosen to ride again.

  “Let me ask you something,” she continued. “If someone told you to give up riding, if they insisted all you ever did was pet horses on the face, and then spend your life training other people to ride them, would you do it?”

  He considered her words—she had to give him props for that. “No.” He met her gaze. “Doesn’t mean I have to like you doing it, though.”

  He wasn’t really angry with her; he was upset at having to admit he understood. He was too honest to deny it. Her estimation of him rose even more.

  “It’s okay. I promise to keep my eye up.” She could tell he tried to place the comment, and spotted the exact moment when he recalled her riding in his arena and the trouble she’d had until she figured out not to look down.

  “Keep it way up,” he ordered.

  She nodded. “I’m still working with Sam, you know.”

  His shoulders twitched beneath his tan shirt. “I know.”

  “And you did such a great job with Playboy I’m thinking it won’t be long before I can try riding without a bridle again. Not right away,” she quickly added when she saw the look he shot her. “In a little while.”

  His jaw ticked. She could tell he was trying hard to keep his thoughts to himself. His hand grasped his coffee cup so tightly she thought he might crush it.

  “Honestly, Colt, I’ll be fine.”

  He looked away. Both their gazes caught on a little boy being wheeled toward the cafeteria. He was as gaunt and pale as the children she’d seen in news reports from third-world countries. She knew Colt was thinking it, too, wondering if Adam would look like that one day soon.

  “Damn it,” he said, thrusting his cup down so hard she worried the lid might pop off. “I don’t have time for this.”