CHAPTER TWENTY
“ARE YOU READY?” Slade asked Jordana as he checked Thor’s cinch one last time. Dawn was a thin, gray line on the eastern horizon. Bright lights had been set up around the huge staging area so horses and riders could see what they were doing.
Jordana nodded, pulling on the Kevlar vest that would protect her torso should she fall. Her heart was doing a slow pound. “I am,” she told him. Around them were a hundred other horse trailers, riders and their nervous, frisky endurance charges. The meadow was a controlled bedlam of a sort. Jordana had seen this before, but not as a level-one endurance rider. Slade held Thor’s reins. The stallion snorted and pawed, more than ready to get on with the race. Slade handed her the black, protective helmet she’d wear.
Slade looked around. The start line was about a hundred feet from where they were parked. Thor, because he’d won last year’s endurance ride, would be the first to leave the starting gate. He’d get a five-minute head start, and then Curt Downing and his black Arab stallion would be next. Worried, he said, “Remember, let Thor gallop. Don’t hold him back on this first mile. It’s flat and even. This is where you want to make up time between you and Downing.”
Strapping on the helmet, Jordana nodded. “I’ve memorized the trail, Slade. I’ll do what you told me to do. Don’t worry.” And she gripped his hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
Slade saw Downing on his black stallion, Shah. In Arabic, shah meant “king.” And indeed, the black stud who was rearing and pawing the air in anticipation was all of that. Shah was nearly equal to Thor. But there were subtle differences that would determine the winner and loser. Slade watched Jordana wrap an Ace bandage around each of her knees. The tape would stop the chaffing of rough material against her skin that always occurred over long-distance rides. It would stop the skin from being rubbed off. If it did happen, it made riding excruciatingly painful and sometimes took a rider out of the race because so much tissue damage occurred. She was quick and professional about it. Some of his anxiety dissolved. Everything about Jordana was confidence and focus. It entered Slade’s mind that maybe, if she was lucky, she might finish in the money. Second place was five thousand, and third place was two thousand dollars. Any money would be better than none, but he knew she had her sites set on winning. His heart opened with such a rush of startling emotions, he blinked. He’d never felt this way before. What was it? Slade had no time to figure it out.
“I’m ready,” Jordana announced. She looked up into Slade’s dark and shadowed face. How handsome he was! How utterly rugged as the Tetons was this man that she felt such a powerful love for. Jordana no longer tried to explain how she felt toward Slade. She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with this iconic cowboy, but she had. It was her secret—for now. After the race was over, she’d have the time to speak of it to Slade. How would he react? Jordana wasn’t sure. “And,” she whispered, throwing her arms around Slade’s broad shoulders, “I need a kiss for good luck!”
Taken aback by Jordana’s bold move, Slade automatically curved his free arm around Jordana’s slender form as she leaned up to kiss him. Startled by her assertiveness, he leaned down and captured her smiling lips. Her mouth was warm and inviting as she surged against him. Groaning softly, Slade melted into her lips, tasting the coffee she’d had earlier. She was all woman, all sensuality in that moment. The scent of her briefly dizzied him. And just as suddenly, she pulled away. The kiss was over far too soon.
“You’re my luck,” she told him in a husky tone. She saw Slade’s narrowed eyes smoldered for her. Jordana felt every cell in her body tingle over that raw, hungry look. “Help me mount!” She turned and took Thor’s reins from his hand.
In moments, Slade had boosted her up on the stallion. Thor moved sideways, full of himself, vital and like a powerhouse ready to explode. Slade grinned and settled his hands on his hips. Despite his stallion’s aggressive nature, he immediately answered to Jordana’s quiet hands and guiding leg pressure. “Okay, be careful out there.”
Smiling down at him, Jordana heard the horn blast. That meant she had to get Thor up to the start line. “I will.” She blew him a kiss. “And we have some important things to talk about after the race,” she called, whirling the mustang around.
Standing there, Slade watched her move the sunbonnet stud in and around the horse trailers. The first ten riders were mounted. Every five minutes, one would be released in the order they’d earned from other races. Pride sifted through Slade. As he stood there watching Jordana guide Thor up to the start line where two judges and a timer stood, he smiled faintly. The feeling he had was one of intense love for her. Even in the semidarkness, the dawn barely crawling over the horizon, Slade felt the immense power of love avalanching through him for this feisty, petite woman. Thor was a huge, rangy stallion, and Jordana literally looked like a jockey on his broad, long back. He was chomping on the bit, tossing his head, his brown-and-white mane flying like spun candy around his neck and withers. Jordana was focused on a judge who came up to speak to her. He would ask her name, the name of her horse, double-check the number pinned on her back and the number spray painted onto the rump of the horse. Everything had to match and it did. He shifted his gaze to a woman with a red flag standing fifty feet inside the start line. When the male judge lifted his hand, she brought the flag down. That meant, “go!”
Jordana didn’t need to do anything as Thor saw that flag whip downward. Instantly, he launched off his powerful back legs, dirt and rocks flying from beneath his hooves. He knew it was the signal to run! Hunching down on him, her face close to his neck, her hands steadying the thundering stallion as he surged forward for the one-mile run to the slope of the Tetons, Jordana felt a thrill unlike anything before. Thor knew he could run here. His legs stretched, and she felt him establish a ground-eating stride. All she had to do was look ahead for holes, branches or anything else that might make him stumble. As the rider, she was always looking ahead. The wind whipped past her, her eyes watering as the stallion gained even more speed. It was dizzying! The dawn light was there, but she still had to squint to see a few hundred feet ahead of the stallion.
By the time they reached the trail that would eventually twist upward toward ten thousand feet, Thor had gotten his initial burst of energy expended. Jordana didn’t look back. She knew that Downing would be galloping as hard and fast as he could to catch up with them. As they entered the thick forest, the path well marked with red-orange flags every quarter of a mile, Jordana negotiated with Thor. The stallion still wanted to run, but it was impossible as the trail twisted upward. In some spots, there were tight, ninety-degree turns. In others, there were logs fallen across the path and they had to jump them. The best she could do now was throttle Thor’s nuclear power down to a steady, hard trot. He hated it, snorted and tossed his head. Laughing, Jordana sang softly to him. Ears flicking back and forth, Thor stopped chewing on the bit and got down to the business of trotting.
It would be impossible to know how close Downing was to her. The trail was wicked, steep and she could barely see twenty feet behind her. Slade had told her to just keep Thor moving at a fast trot and negotiate all the tight, demanding turns. There were pullouts about every quarter of a mile on this narrow portion of the race, where a rider could move over to allow another to pass, but that was all. Jordana keyed her hearing behind her. Now that Thor was trotting, the wind wasn’t tearing past her as it had out on the meadow run, and she could hear very well. The light grew as the dawn became stronger. The path was tricky, full of rocks sticking out of the soil along with roots that grew across it. She wondered how close Downing was to her.
CURT CURSED SOFTLY as he took the whip he always carried and let it hang on his wrist. Shah was snorting hard, his black nostrils wide open and showing red deep within them as they hit the beginning of the trail. How far ahead was Jordana and that damn stud of McPherson’s? Gouging his heels into his black Arabian, Curt forced the horse to canter up the path until he couldn’t do i
t anymore. No horse could gallop around tight, ninety-degree turns. He cursed, trying to see ahead. It was impossible on this part of the trail. It was narrow, thickly wooded, and while it was a switchback trail that wove back and forth across the slope of the Tetons, it didn’t allow him to catch sight of his competition. The only thing he could do is take advantage of every straight spot, which were few, and canter his horse. Every stride meant a second of time and Curt knew that. And sixty seconds made a minute. And one minute could determine the difference between winner and loser. He pushed Shah as much as he dared. Inwardly, Curt knew he could overtake the woman. Thor might know this trail, but she didn’t. Women were conservative riders compared to a man. She would be slowing down on this weaving, narrow trail, not urging Thor as he should be pushed. Grinning, Curt took his whip and laid it against Shah’s rump as a short, straight part in the trail popped up. The Arab grunted and lunged forward, hurtling up it at a dizzying speed.
SLADE DROVE HIS TRAILER and pickup to the first stop in the high mountain meadow. He found a parking spot, got out and saw that Shorty was already there and prepared for the vet check. Griff had volunteered to help. Slade had been surprised by the generous offer and told him to help Shorty. His wrangler had driven the other truck up earlier. When Jordana came galloping into the vet check, she’d have to dismount and have the saddle and bridle taken off so that the vet team could check Thor. Shorty would then walk the stud for the vet. After the check and figures were marked down by the team, he would then walk the stallion for twenty minutes. Slade would have time to give Jordana water and talk to her about the race.
Worriedly, Slade looked at his watch and then glanced at the opening into the meadow that was half a mile away. He knew this first section of the race was very challenging. Would Jordana still be in the lead? What if Downing tried to pass her? Would he push her out of the way? Slade knew that there was no cell-phone reception on this endurance ride. There was no way for Jordana to let him know what was happening to her and Thor. As he paced and kept glancing at the opening, Slade found himself far more worried over Jordana than her placement in the race. When had he fallen in love with her? Slade knew it was love. It was nothing like he’d felt for Isabel. No, this feeling was like a warm glowing light in his chest. He thrummed with joy he’d never experienced in his life. Jordana made him happy. Just her smiling face, those dancing blue eyes, fed his starving soul in a way Slade had never realized existed.
Thor and Jordana burst out of the forest. By now, the sun had risen. Long, bright slats of light filtered strongly across the flat, oval meadow. Slade breathed a sigh of relief. Jordana was in the lead! Thor looked good. So did she. Where was Downing? A million questions showered through Slade as he walked to where Shorty was standing. Thor was wet with sweat, but there was no foam on his neck or hindquarters, which was good. That would indicate nervousness, which would voraciously eat up a horse’s energy and slow him down. Jordana had him at a full-out gallop because this was where she could get time against other riders following her. He enjoyed seeing them flying toward the awaiting vet group. She was so small bobbing on Thor’s back. Clearly, Jordana had the stallion in hand, and he was fully listening to her commands. Pride for her abilities moved through Slade.
Jordana brought Thor to a halt. Quickly leaping off, she handed the reins to Shorty. She saw Slade grinning fully as he came around to uncinch the saddle.
“How are you?” he asked, quickly removing the saddle, blanket and breastplate.
Sweaty, Jordana smiled and said, “Fine.”
The vet team moved in with a stethoscope and their clipboards that would list Thor’s pulse, breathing and heartbeat. The stallion snorted, still full of himself even after twenty miles. Within moments, Shorty put the halter over Thor’s head and then removed the bridle. Griff nodded to Jordana and helped the wrangler.
Jordana smiled at the twin. She was happy Slade invited him to come along and help.
Slade gripped Jordana’s arm and guided her toward the truck. “You need water and food,” he told her.
Laughing with relief, Jordana said, “I’m not hungry! We’re doing fine, Slade. How’s our time?” She walked close to him and he reached out and gripped her hand in his. Her heart soared with joy. She could still feel the power of his mouth against hers from their kiss earlier in the meadow.
Slade drew her to the rear of his pickup where he had pints of cold water and trail mix waiting for her. Releasing her hand, he picked up a bottle and twisted off the cap. “Drink. You’re more dehydrated than you realize.”
Nodding, Jordana dutifully took the water bottle from him. The moment their fingers met, she felt a wild and tingling feeling up her arm. Slade looked serious, his cowboy hat drawn down over his brow, his gray eyes narrowed upon her. It was a look she eagerly absorbed as she gulped down a pint of water. As soon as she was done drinking, she watched the vet people work with Thor. They had gotten their numbers, and now, Griff had to walk him for twenty minutes.
“How’s Thor doing?” Slade asked, leaning against the tailgate as she munched on the granola and dried fruit.
“Good,” she murmured between bites.
“Is he listening or fighting you?”
Grinning, she said, “A little of both, but when it got down to it, Slade, he did exactly as I asked him.”
Nodding, Slade absorbed her sparkling blue gaze and the happy smile on her mouth. Strands of black hair had crept out on the sides of her helmet. Perspiration dotted her brow. Her cheeks were flushed a bright red. He knew how strenuous and demanding this part of the trail was. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” she said.
“Your legs? Any chapping of the inner knees or cramping of your legs yet?”
Leaning down, Jordana checked the duct tape on her knees. “No, I’m fine so far. No burning sensation, no rubbing on my inner knee area. The duct tape is doing its job.” She straightened. “Is our time good?” She knew Slade had all the times from past rides on the clipboard setting on the tailgate.
Picking it up, he motioned for Jordana to sit on it next to him. “Your time is actually one minute ahead of what I did last year,” he told her, pointing to the numbers. How badly Slade wanted to kiss her. But now was not the time.
Studying the figures, Jordana said, “The next twenty miles is from seven thousand to ten thousand feet. We take that trail across the high, rocky slopes and then come down to nine thousand into our next pit stop.”
Nodding, Slade said, “Here comes Downing….”
Looking up, Jordana saw Downing running the stallion full-out across the flat meadow toward the vet check. The horse looked fit and his sweaty body gleaming like polished ebony. She frowned as she saw Downing whipping the horse’s rump with that ever-present whip that hung around his wrist. “He shouldn’t beat his horse,” she muttered, frowning.
Slade looked at the time the horse flew across the vet-check line. “No, he shouldn’t, but Downing beats everything he owns,” he growled. “He’s thirty seconds later than his time last year,” he added, smiling a little. “And Shah looks good.”
Jordana watched Downing’s team race over and quickly unsaddle and unbridle the black stallion. Downing was scowling and yelling at his team as the vet came over. “He’s pissed about something.”
“He’s always angry on a ride,” Slade said. “He’s competitive.”
“He should relax while he’s got a chance.” Jordana was happy to sit on the tailgate of the truck with Slade. She continued to eat. Food and water were necessary for the rider, who was expending a tremendous amount of energy. She saw that Shorty took Thor over to the waiting pails of clean, cool water. The mustang eagerly thrust his muzzle into the first pail, gulping down the contents.
“Downing never relaxes,” Slade warned. Sighing, he said, “If he’s going to make a move to pass you, it will be on this next stretch. And you have to be ready for him. He’ll try and run you off the trail. If you get into those rocks…”
Holding up her hand, Jordana said, “Stop worrying, Slade. I know what he’s capable of doing. And I’m not going into the rocks with Thor.” More grimly, she added, “We’ll be okay. How are you doing?”
He smiled slightly. “Worried.”
“That’s to be expected. Thor’s doing fine. He’s an old hand at this. He remembers this trail and knows how to negotiate it.”
Picking up her hand, Slade kissed the back of it. “I was worried for you, not my horse.”
Touched, Jordana clung to his burning gray gaze. His hand was firm and strong around hers. Her flesh warmed instantly as his mouth settled on it, and he kissed it. “Oh,” she whispered, suddenly touched by his unexpected gesture. “I’m okay, Slade. Really.”
“Well, it’s the second twenty miles that you’ll start feeling the push and getting tired,” he warned, releasing her hand. At that moment, he could have drowned in Jordana’s eyes. Slade wanted nothing more than to bury himself into her, take her and love her until she fainted in his arms.
For a moment, Jordana’s world swam around Slade. She ached to kiss him again. Tucking away that need, she slipped off the tailgate and gave him a warm look. “Time’s almost up.” She was ready for the next twenty miles.
DOWNING WHIPPED his stallion as they raced along the narrow dirt track across the rocky slopes at ten thousand feet. He pushed his Arabian hard to make up that minute of difference between him and Thor. What he hadn’t expected was how well Jordana rode the horse. He’d miscalculated terribly, thinking she would never finish this grueling event. So far, he’d been dead wrong. She rode smart, and she rated Thor like a pro, much to his chagrin.
The Last Cowboy Page 23