His Last Rodeo

by Claire McEwen

  It only took moments to catch Carson, who was eager to rejoin his friend. The big gelding stood calmly while Tyler ran a brush over him, checked his hooves and threw his saddle and bridle on. He swung onto Carson’s back, then glanced at Kit. “You ready?”

  “Ready for a sedate walk,” she reminded him. “Don’t you dare take off on me. We’re not sixteen, you know.”

  But he felt sixteen. Sixteen and crazy about her and wanting, more than anything, to see her smile wide, like she did back then. Before her dad and mom ignored her one too many times. Before Arch took her in, taught her to be like him and then tossed her aside. “Just a walk.” Tyler led them south of the barn, where they threaded their way through sparse pines and out into open fields. Here, the entire Sierra range unfolded in jigsaw spires along the skyline.

  He glanced her way, wanting her to appreciate it the way he did. “Doesn’t get much better than this, right?”

  He saw the glory of it reflected in her wide eyes. “It still takes my breath away,” she said quietly.

  “Want to trot?”

  “Pushy much?” But he saw how she deepened her seat and eased the mare into a slow jog, so they passed him by on the wide path and Kit’s laugh slid through the space between them like drops of rain.

  This was working. This was making her happy. And if this could bring her joy, who knew? Maybe he could, too.

  He didn’t need to urge Carson on because the gelding was happy to catch up. Easier said than done, because Kit was rising in her stirrups now, asking Rachel for a speedier trot. Tyler asked for the same, but just when he was catching up to her, she eased her mare into a lope, sitting back in the saddle again, riding the rocking horse gait easily, like all these years since their last ride together hadn’t affected her a bit.

  So he sat back, too, using his calves and thighs to ask for a gallop. When he’d caught up, Tyler reached for his hat and handed it to her across the jerky distance between them. And she leaned in and grabbed it, laughing, and held it to her head, letting out a cowgirl whoop as she asked the mare for a little more speed, leaving him eating her dust, just like she always had.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  KIT WAS TEACHING the bar staff how to make cocktails. Well, trying to teach them. She kept losing track of what they were working on. Which was making her crazy because this wasn’t rocket science. There was no reason to be so distracted.

  But it was extremely hard to focus with Tyler there. Even after working together constantly, rock climbing with Ethan and Lila, taking countless horseback rides and hikes this summer, she couldn’t seem to settle into an easy friendship with him.

  Her desire for him still rose at unexpected and inconvenient times. Like when he walked into the bar, or when they toured the construction area and he helped Aaron lift a beam and she was mesmerized by the way the muscles in his arms moved. She loved their friendship and their work partnership, and she didn’t want to ruin them with anything romantic.

  Plus, every day that she was on her own, trying new things and pushing her travel plans forward, she was proving to herself that she’d changed. That she could be strong and interesting and adventuresome on her own. That romance and relationships weren’t the only place she could find excitement in life. Still, she couldn’t shake this attraction to Tyler. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but her feelings had evolved into a full-blown crush.

  He, on the other hand, didn’t seem the least bit interested in her. Which showed how ridiculous it was to lust after him. She’d thought there was something between them at the stable when the horses had first arrived, and on the day she’d first ridden. But lately it seemed as though to him, she was just the trusty employee he relied on. The old friend he enjoyed having adventures with.

  It was better that way. But it stung a little. She had to try so hard not to stare at him, while he never looked her way. Like right now. He was completely absorbed, hanging out at a table with Tim, laughing as they tried to upstage each other with their stylish ways of wielding a cocktail shaker. Tyler had been serious about wanting to imitate Tom Cruise. Lately there’d been bottles flipped behind the bar before he poured, glasses tossed to her when she needed them. It was silly, but she had to admit, it was a lot of fun, too. And the customers loved it.

  Focus. She was covering three drinks today: the cosmopolitan, a Manhattan and martinis of all kinds. She glanced at the clock. Tyler was paying them for only another thirty minutes. She had to hustle if she wanted to teach both dry and sweet Manhattans.

  “Guys, finish up the circus tricks,” she called to Tyler and Tim. “Everyone, you’re all officially martini experts. Go clean up.” There was a scraping of chairs as people headed for the sink to rinse their shakers.

  Tyler walked her way and she braced herself against whatever weird and bumbling thing she might do in his presence, now that she had all these feelings for him. Like fall over a chair or mention his pecs by accident. It seemed better to say nothing.

  “This is a good class,” he said, stopping across the table from her. “I appreciate you teaching us. It will be great to have everyone on the same page.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Kit said, crossing her arms across her chest. Then uncrossing them. Because nothing felt quite comfortable around him anymore.

  “I have to take off now. Can you lock up when you’re finished here?”

  “You’re not staying for my Manhattan lesson?”

  He looked around, clearly uncomfortable by her question. Oh, no, did she sound all needy?

  “I know I should. I was hoping you could teach me later. There’s somewhere I really need to be.”

  “Sure.” She noted the way his hands clenched. He was nervous, too. But she had no way of knowing if his tension was due to her, or because of wherever he was rushing to.

  “Thanks, Kit. See you later.” And he jogged out. Jogged. As if he couldn’t wait to get to where he was going. She watched him through the glass door. He jumped into his truck and zoomed away, leaving a cloud of dust in the parking lot.

  “I heard he’s got a girlfriend.” Bella came to stand beside her. She was one of their newer bartenders. A pretty blonde in her early twenties. Funny and smart. “My aunt lives across from the place he rented. She says he has a woman visiting him a few times a week now. Some pretty lady with dark hair.” She sighed. “I can’t blame her. He’s so cute. A nice guy, too. I’d be happy to visit him anytime.”

  There was no reason for this weird flare of jealousy. Of course Bella thought he was cute. And of course Tyler had found someone to be with. He was Tyler Ellis. He’d probably been propositioned by every woman who walked into this bar.

  “Okay.” She swallowed the strange tightness in her throat. “Did you get your shaker cleaned out? Ready for the next drink?”

  “I sure am,” Bella said, flashing her a grateful smile. “This job is so fun. I’m really glad you hired me.”

  “I’m glad you wanted to work for us.” Kit turned to the group, clapping her hands. “Okay, everyone, it’s Manhattan time.”

  “The boss is away,” Tim called. “Can we use real booze?”

  Kit looked around at them, all tired from their Friday and Saturday night shifts. Until they hired more staff, it was all-hands-on-deck on the weekends—especially with the Dusty Saddle being the suddenly cool place to be. “Okay, I’ll buy you a Manhattan.” A cheer went up, but she shushed them. “Only if you make a perfect one. You make a bad one, and you have to pay.”

  That got their attention. She’d have to keep this teaching strategy in mind.

  “All right,” she said. “Take a moment to read over the recipe on your table.”

  She couldn’t help it. In the silence that followed, her gaze strayed to the parking lot, where the dust from Tyler’s departing truck had long since settled. And she wondered again where Tyler h
ad gone. And, if Bella was right, whom he’d gone to.

  * * *

  KIT POURED OUT a few glasses of champagne and looked around the crowded Mammoth Gallery. It was a beautiful evening and even more people were coming through the door to see Lila’s photos.

  Lila had worried that she might not get a big crowd on a Wednesday night. But Kit wasn’t surprised so many people were here. Lila’s photography was gorgeous. She’d framed each print in simple, weathered wood, perfect for the desert scenes.

  Kit had offered to support her friend in the best way she knew how—to set up a small, elegant table in the back of the room and serve drinks.

  She was so proud of Lila tonight. Her friend had been a well-known photographer in Los Angeles before she fled to Benson to hide from her ex-boyfriend. With Dale in prison now, Lila was free to let her work shine again. Some of the guests tonight had come all the way from LA to celebrate with her and welcome her back.

  Apparently the Los Angeles Times was going to be here, too. They were writing a feature piece on Lila’s experience—her life in hiding and her life now, reclaiming her art.

  Kit spotted Ethan leaning on a post in the back of the gallery, his face pale and drawn. She beckoned him over. “Are you doing okay?”

  He shook his head slightly. “I know there’s no reason to worry. But I still feel so protective, you know? After tonight and this article in the Times, the whole world will know where to find her. What if Dale has some creepy friend he sends for her?”

  “Then you’ll take him out with one swipe of your fist. And Lila will help with her awesome martial arts moves. And I’ll break bottles over his head.”

  It worked. A smile crept along Ethan’s tense face until he was laughing a little. “Good to know we have a plan.”

  “I am nothing if not organized,” Kit said. “Now, take these glasses of champagne. Drink one to take the edge off your vigilance. You’re huge and tattooed, and when you get worried, you start scaring people. Take the other to your gorgeous fiancée. She’s been answering so many questions, she must be parched.”

  Ethan took the glasses obediently and made his way through the crowd to where Lila, looking stunning in a black cocktail dress and heels, was listening to an earnest-looking woman pointing at an ethereal print of a Joshua tree.

  “There you go, taking care of everyone again.”

  She turned toward the voice, surprised to see Tyler. He looked amazing, as always, in black jeans and a button-down shirt. “Hey, you startled me. I didn’t see you there.”

  “You were too busy fixing everything for Ethan to notice me.”

  “It’s Lila’s special night. I want it to go perfectly.”

  Tyler whistled low. “Ethan told me what happened last year. How that guy almost got hold of her. He sounds scary.”

  “He was.” Kit shuddered at the memory of the one time she’d seen Dale. “He came into the bar to get information about Lila from me. I didn’t know who he was—she had never said anything about him. But his eyes were so cold, I knew something was wrong, so I lied. Told him she’d quit her job a long time ago.”

  Kit didn’t want to think about it. If she’d been more busy, or less alert, she’d have told the truth—Lila was working later that evening. And Dale would have been waiting for her. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Ethan wound through the crowd toward them. “Want me to pour the wine for a bit?” he asked. “You guys can check out the photos.”

  “You just want an excuse not to be out there mingling,” Kit teased gently. “Which is great, because I’d love a break.”

  She filled a glass with champagne and offered it to Tyler, then poured one for herself before letting Ethan take over.

  “There are some amazing photos she took of the Dusty Saddle. I’m sure you’ll want to buy them.” Kit led him that way.

  Tyler grinned. “If you ever leave bartending you could have a career in sales.”

  She gave him a mock glare, then let him admire the photos. The old Dusty Saddle sign against a brooding sky. The building covered in snow with winter-frosted Sierra peaks rising behind. The barn, before Tyler had fixed it up. While most of Lila’s photos were black and white, this one had been taken last spring, when a wet winter had caused wildflowers to bloom thick and lush around the weathered walls.

  “You’re right,” Tyler said, staring from one to another. “I do want to buy them. Who knew I had such a talented bartender?”

  “I knew.” Kit elbowed him. “Just one more reason why you should listen to me.”

  “Oh, I’ll listen to you. I just might not do what you say.” He elbowed back with that wide grin that sent heat down Kit’s spine. Ugh. No heat. He thought of her as a buddy. They were friends. Why did these other feelings have to get in the way?

  But she knew why. Chemistry. She wanted Tyler. She was incredibly attracted to him. And she had to find a way to live with that.

  Tyler stopped their wandering path through the gallery with a hand on her arm. “Are those photos of you?”

  Kit followed his gaze and felt her cheeks heat. “Oh. Those.”

  He walked to the exhibit hanging near the office door. Kit followed, sipping her champagne and wondering if maybe she should disappear. These photos were the results of the day she’d modeled for Lila. As promised, Lila had allowed Kit to approve the prints before including them in her show. But it was one thing to look at them in Lila’s kitchen. Here, the intimacy that Lila had captured with her camera felt like a little too much to show Tyler.

  Especially now, when all of her feelings for him made everything seem more complicated.

  Tyler stood stock-still, staring at her photos. Maybe he liked them. Maybe he didn’t, and couldn’t think of what to say. Kit did them both a favor and slipped away into the crowd, putting as much distance between them as possible.

  * * *

  IT WAS DIFFICULT to know which photo to look at first. Tyler’s gaze landed on one to absorb the beauty there, only to be instantly drawn to another. Lila had done something brilliant here. Each black-and-white photo, soft and shadowed, showed one alluring part of Kit. In the first shot, she faced away from the camera with no top on, revealing the hourglass shape of her torso. Her hair was pulled to one side and the light caught the contrast between her intricate tattoos and her pale skin. It was artistic, completely innocent and totally sexy at the same time.

  In another photo, Lila had caught Kit’s rattlesnaked arm with the alluring shadow of her full breast behind it. The next focused on the stubborn line of her jaw and the sweet curve of her neck. The last in the series was the only one that showed her face. Kit looked over her shoulder at the camera, her eyes huge and vulnerable without her dark makeup. There was a startled expression in her eyes, yet her full mouth was set in a defiant line, as if she was ready to fight back against whatever troubled her.

  Lila had captured the dilemma that was Kit.

  He turned to tell Kit how much he loved them. But she was gone. Instead a man he didn’t know stood behind him, studying the photos, too. He caught Tyler’s eye. “Pretty incredible, aren’t they? I’m thinking of getting them. Perfect for the bedroom wall.”

  Tyler’s hands coiled to fists before he had one coherent thought. But when his mind caught up, he knew there was no way that this guy would have these photos on his bedroom wall, or on any other wall for that matter. These were too personal, too private, too perfect to be in some stranger’s hands. A stranger would have no idea what Kit had risked here, how hard it must have been for her—normally so guarded—to show herself to the camera.

  He nodded to the other man, not trusting himself to say anything, and went to find the gallery owner, who was only too happy to sell all the photos of Kit to him. And he bought the photos of the Dusty Saddle and his barn as well.

  He had no ide
a what he’d do with Kit’s photo series. It would be way too creepy to hang them. But the need to protect these images of her ran too strong to resist. He’d done his best to become her friend this past month. To put his feelings aside and help her have the adventures she needed. To support her as she tried to get herself onto a healthier path with men, with life, with herself.

  And it was working. Kit was stronger and more vibrant and happier than when he’d first walked into the Dusty Saddle. Her self-help books had been replaced by travel books and Spanish textbooks. She was so excited for her travels and whatever life had to offer her next, now that she felt free to leave town.

  The problem was, all that excitement and strength and vitality made her more beautiful to him. He was aware of her every movement behind the bar, her every smile. He’d fallen in love with her. Completely. And it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and show her how he felt.

  Maybe he was making a mistake, being so understanding, giving her so much space. He was letting her go without a fight. He’d fought for everything else he had with a single-minded drive. His rodeo career. This bar. Learning to read and write. Maybe he needed to step up and fight for her, too. To try to show her how much she belonged here. How much they belonged together. Then maybe she wouldn’t need to get on that plane and go.

  For now, he signed the forms to have the gallery ship her photos to his house.

  He was disappointed when he didn’t see her in the crowd. He wanted to view the rest of the photos with her. Because everything was much more fun with Kit making dry comments that only he could hear.

  He spotted someone he knew near the door and set aside his thoughts of Kit. He’d invited his friend Gray to meet him here tonight.

  Gray had been a great bull rider, a hard partier, always ready for a good time. And that’s how Tyler still pictured him. So it always took a moment to adjust to the sight of his friend in a wheelchair. Gray had lost the use of his legs when a bull trampled him. Now he was an accountant living near Palm Springs.