“Why so glum?” she asked when Nate leaned an elbow on the bar. Business was slow—the lunch crowd had left, and the happy hour crowd wouldn’t trickle in for a while yet.
“Do I look glum?” So much for fooling everyone.
Shutting off the water at the small stainless-steel sink, she tossed a dish towel over her bony shoulder. “I’ve seen dogs on their way to the pound acting happier.”
“I have a lot on my mind.” Nate proceeded to fill her in on the interview.
“Sounds like a great opportunity. He’s including board for you and your horse. Can’t beat that. And Spence wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
“The guy hasn’t offered me the job, and I haven’t taken it.”
“We’ll see.” Her tone implied him accepting was a given.
“If he doesn’t agree to me having Friday evenings and Saturdays off, at least until you hire my replacement, I won’t take the job.”
“Course you will, if it’s the right one for you. Don’t decide until you’ve talked to him.”
Nate leaned in and gave her a sound peck on the cheek. “You’re a special lady, you know that?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She pretended to be annoyed and pushed at him. “Get away from me.”
Nate’s next stop was The Small Change to visit Theo. As expected, the older man had been furious with Reese, but had taken his fury out on Nate. Today was no different, and telling Theo about the interview only worsened his mood.
“You’re abandoning me!” Theo roared from his favorite place at the living room wet bar.
“I don’t want to go, trust me.”
“I’m firing that nurse the moment she arrives tomorrow.”
Nate couldn’t help smiling, appreciating Theo’s loyalty to him. “Reese is only doing what she thinks is best. She’s at the bank all day. Your son-in-law runs the ranch. And sooner or later, they’re going to start a family.”
“Why can’t you be here every day?”
“I have no medical trailing. I’m not even an accredited caregiver.”
“Florence!” Theo bit out the town’s name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “A racing quarter horse farm. What’s wrong with working for me?”
“You have more than enough hands already.”
“You’re leaving just because you and Ray’s daughter got into a spat.”
Nate had told Theo a little about the situation with Ronnie. He’d probably heard more from Ronnie’s dad. “It wasn’t just a spat.”
“Do you love her?”
“I...” Nate paused, weighing his answer. He’d loved her more than life itself six years ago. What about now? “Yes,” he admitted, “and I probably always will.”
“Then stay and fight for her, by golly.” Theo smacked the bar top, almost unseating himself. “Quit running off every time you hit a little bump.”
“I’m not running off. I’m seizing my next adventure. That’s what Allan always said to do.”
“Bullshit. What your brother meant was for you to live your life to the fullest, whatever that turns out to be. Not turn your back on family and friends. There’s a difference.”
Nate recalled the many conversations he’d had with his brother, especially those near then end when Allan was practically an invalid. He had desperately longed for the one thing he could never have—freedom. The ability to go where he chose and do what he chose. Completely unencumbered.
Theo was right. Nate had been making excuses, and Allan wouldn’t have approved. Worse, he’d be disappointed in Nate.
“If I’d understood that two decades ago—” Theo’s gaze turned inward “—my wife might not have left me for another man. Instead of appreciating what was right under my nose, I was always chasing something I really didn’t need.”
“You make an interesting point,” Nate said.
Theo snorted. “I make a damn good point.”
“You’re kind of smart for an old guy with Parkinson’s.”
“Tell you what.” He pointed a finger at Nate. “You answer my questions honestly, and I’ll support whatever you decide. Stay, go, work in Florence or for me.”
Nate didn’t need Theo’s support or approval. Then again, what harm would it do to play along with him? “Sure. Fire away.”
“Of all the jobs you’ve had, which one gave you the most satisfaction?”
Nate didn’t hesitate. “Taking care of my brother. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard most days. Allan could be difficult. But I never minded because in a small way, I made a difference.”
Theo gave a satisfied nod. “And of all the places you’ve lived, which one made you the happiest?”
“I like San Antonio.” Nate chuckled. “But if I were to pick one—”
“Mustang Valley. Right. Next question.”
“Wait, you didn’t let me answer.”
Theo’s brows shot up. “Do I need to?”
“Hmm. Maybe not,” Nate relented.
“And I don’t need to ask who you’ve loved most in the world. We already covered that.”
“Why am I even doing this?”
“So, here’s my last question and don’t answer right away. Think on it for a minute. If time and money weren’t factors, what would you do? No limitations.”
Nate did think on it and when he answered, he surprised himself with his honesty. “I’d go to college and get a degree.”
“In what?”
“Nursing or physical therapy. I think I’d be good at either. Allan always said I had a knack for nurturing, which sounds kind of funny for a bull rider, I guess.”
Theo broke into a wide, delighted grin. “Well, hot damn. What’s stopping you?”
“Time and money. Well, money anyway. I’m broke.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“Mr. McGraw, sir—”
“Just listen.” He then made a proposition that Nate found daunting and also intriguing. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, I have a hundred reasons to say no.”
“And three really good ones to say yes.”
Nate tried convincing himself Theo was a crazy old man. Go to college? Who was he kidding? Nate hadn’t cracked a book in years. And to be so beholden to one person? What if he failed?
Then again, what if he didn’t? He’d probably never get an opportunity like this again.
Crossing the five feet separating him and Theo, he pulled the older man into a bear hug. “Sir, you have deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Take him around once more,” Ronnie shouted to Sam and motioned with her hand.
The teenager was riding Teddy Bear, a three-year-old exquisitely marked palomino with the gentle personality of his namesake. Also, and this part worried Ronnie, the same amount of brains as a stuffed toy. He was slow to catch on and quick to forget.
His owners were new clients—she’d met them during that first weekend at the Poco Dinero. There was no question Teddy Bear had looks and, when he wanted, speed. What he may not have was a career in professional barrel racing.
With luck and a little maturity, he might improve. Ronnie had been surprised before. Besides, Teddy Bear’s owners were paying her handsomely to give her best effort and the horse a chance. Their daughter absolutely adored “Bear-Bear” and was determined to eventually compete on him.
When Sam completed her circuit of the arena, Ronnie instructed her to cool down Teddy Bear and return him to his stall.
“Okay, but then can I ride Big John?” She’d been assisting Ronnie all day with the promise that Ronnie would assess Big John’s recent progress.
“All right. Just don’t rush. Teddy Bear worked up a sweat.”
Sam laughed. “You’re such a mother hen.”
Ronnie had to admit, her younger sister’s o
ften unpredictable demeanor was significantly improved of late. She’d expected Sam to return from Nationals with a permanent scowl, a refusal to cooperate and total dissatisfaction with everyone and everything.
Instead, Sam had immediately buckled down, showing a willingness to do whatever was necessary to resume competing in February. A 2.0 version of herself.
Other than Sam not advancing, Nationals had gone well. Their father and Dolores had flown in for two days. Joining them had been Sam’s mother, adoptive father and two younger brothers. The meeting could have been awkward but wasn’t. Everyone was there to support Sam, and they’d let that guide their behavior. No one dredged up the past or cast blame or even mentioned the string of lies that had originally brought Sam to Mustang Valley in search of her biological father.
As a result, Ronnie was able to say she found Sam’s “other family” to be genuinely nice and eagerly anticipated seeing them again in the near future, when they came to visit Sam. Ronnie was also impressed by her father’s readiness to extend the hand of friendship. She suspected he and Sam had grown closer as a result, though her adoptive father would always be her dad—the man who had raised her and loved her as his own.
While Sam’s parents still weren’t thrilled with her decision to forgo college and pursue a professional rodeo career, they were willing to respect her wishes. At one point, Ronnie overheard Sam’s parents offering to pay for a portion of her expenses. Ronnie considered that a huge step forward, and was pleased for Sam. She knew how expensive the sport of rodeo could be, particularly in the beginning.
At that moment, another of her students made an appearance, bringing her back to the present. With local schools on winter break this week and next for the holidays, Ronnie’s schedule was bursting at the seams. She was teaching a group lesson this afternoon and a private one after that.
No sooner had she told the student to warm up her horse in the arena than her phone rang. Recognizing the president of the Can Chasers’ number—they’d been talking frequently since their meeting—Ronnie answered right away and spent the next five minutes finalizing the remaining details of their contract.
So far, Ronnie loved the Can Chasers. They were a top-notch, serious-minded organization with outstanding work ethics. Plus, the young women were a delight, their enthusiasm catching and their dedication admirable. Not least of all, the private rodeo arena they used was well-maintained and boasted every piece of equipment a barrel racing instructor could ask for.
Ronnie predicted a long and mutually beneficial relationship with them, along with the new clients she’d recently added to her roster. Also encouraging, the sign-ups for this coming weekend’s barrel racing event were already ahead of last week’s, much to Bess’s delight.
Why then, Ronnie asked herself, wasn’t she over the moon with happiness, walking on sunshine and every other lame cliché ever written?
Her business was growing, her family was happy, healthy and thriving, and, thanks to an increase in income, she was able to continue living in the house she loved.
But instead of feeling happy, she had to power through her days and remember to smile whenever anyone glanced in her direction.
This couldn’t all be because of Nate, could it? One night together didn’t automatically mean they’d resumed their relationship, so they couldn’t have broken up, right? They never even went on that date Nate had talked about.
She sighed, half with longing and half with regret. It had been an incredible night—which he’d blown the next day by announcing he was leaving.
All right, not leaving. She’d made that leap and possibly pushed him into a decision when he’d only wanted some leeway to find a new job. But she’d been mad, dammit, and—in her opinion—justifiably mad. He could have moved in with her and helped with her business. She hadn’t been offering him a handout, regardless of how he’d interpreted it. Had anyone else made him the offer, he’d have taken it on the spot.
In hindsight, she conceded she could have expressed herself more articulately. Not let her anger get the better of her and shut down completely when he didn’t immediately side with her.
She’d done that before, years ago, which had ended with her walking out. Now, Nate was the one walking out on her.
A miscommunication, misunderstanding, misstep, call it what you will. She and Nate had had too many to count—including her decision to compete when she was pregnant and her rejection of his proposal. And now this last one. She should have proclaimed she’d stand by him no matter what, even if she didn’t like his decision.
Wasn’t that what Sam’s parents had done, agreed to support her unconditionally regardless of their objections? And Ronnie had witnessed the positive effect it had had on Sam’s mood and outlook.
Too bad she hadn’t given Nate the same consideration. He might be here now rather than...where?
Last she’d heard from her father, Reese had retained a nursing service for Theo. She’d offered to let Nate continue staying at the ranch, but he’d refused. Ronnie knew how important it was for him to pay his own way. Hadn’t they argued at length about that very thing? Maybe Bess would let him park his trailer behind the rodeo arena if push came to shove. And surely he could leave Breeze at The Small Change a while longer. What was one more horse among the thirty or forty head Theo already owned?
Ronnie would impose on her father if it came to that, though she probably wouldn’t find out what happened to Nate, not immediately and not from him.
A fresh pang of sadness struck. She resisted the tears threatening to spill, as she’d been doing all week. For someone used to keeping her emotions in check, she was having the worst time lately.
Why couldn’t she go to him? Apologize and ask for a second chance?
Fear of rejection?
Fear he’d say yes?
Not for the first time Ronnie wondered if she was terrified of failing and had competed at Nationals when Nate pleaded with her not to rather than divulge her deep, dark secret.
Looking back, she knew her heart hadn’t been in competing that last year. Perhaps she’d suffered from burnout or changing interests, a lack of confidence brought on by her inability to win a title or any number of other reasons.
She hadn’t confided in Nate, convinced his opinion of her would change, and they’d drift apart. Rodeo was the only thing they’d had in common. At least, that was what she’d thought. Ronnie had abandoned him before giving them a chance to discover what else they loved about each other and to build an even stronger relationship.
At home, she’d used the miscarriage as an excuse to quit rodeoing, refusing to admit to her waning interest in competing that had started long before then.
She couldn’t help thinking about how different both her and Nate’s lives might have turned out if she’d only been honest with him. And honest with herself.
Ronnie wrapped her arms around her middle. Self-examination was a difficult and uncomfortable process, and she tried to push away the unwanted thoughts. They refused and insisted on further scrutiny. It was akin to banging herself in the head with a hammer, and Ronnie’s chin fell under the onslaught.
Sam rode up on Big John, giving Ronnie a start. How long had she been standing there, staring into space?
“What do you think?” Sam asked, pulling the horse to a stop in front of Ronnie. “He’s not limping one bit.”
“No? Good.” Ronnie didn’t want to admit she hadn’t been watching.
The teenager dismounted, and together they examined the horse’s leg. Ronnie admitted the residual swelling appeared to have completely subsided.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sam abruptly straightened and stared at Ronnie.
“Nothing.” She dropped Big John’s foot.
“You’ve been weird all day. You’ve been weird since before we left for Nationals.”
“I don’t know what you’re tal
king about,” Ronnie lied through her teeth.
“Is it Nate?”
“What? No.”
“He has a job interview in Florence.”
The name of the town rang a bell with Ronnie. “Spence has a friend in Florence who owns a racing quarter horse farm.”
“Well, that’s where Nate has the interview.”
“You saw him?”
“He called.”
“Oh.”
“He doesn’t want to go.” Sam ignored Big John, who pawed the ground, impatient to return to his workout.
Ronnie was reluctant to ask but did anyway. “What makes you say that?”
“He likes it here. He likes you.” Sam planted her hands on her hips. “And you like him. Except you’re both too pigheaded to admit it.”
“Things are complicated, Sam.”
“Uncomplicate them.”
“Not that easy.”
“It’s as hard or simple as you make it, Ronnie. Take it from me.”
The sage wisdom of an eighteen-year-old.
“I messed up bad when I found out Ray was my biological father and my parents hid that from me my entire life.”
“It was a lot to deal with.”
“Yeah, but I made things worse by copping an attitude. You told me that enough times. Luckily, when I finally did listen, it wasn’t too late. Now look at me. I have two families. I almost didn’t have any.”
Ronnie went still, the words Sam said sinking in. It was one thing for Ronnie to realize how badly she’d screwed up with Nate, it was another for others to notice.
Maybe she shouldn’t have rejected Nate’s long-ago Valentine’s Day proposal and, instead, asked for the necessary time to recover from their loss. Later, when they were both ready, they could have considered marriage. They’d been young, after all, with no reason to rush.
Except Ronnie had been too wrapped up in herself, her grief and her guilt to see a clear path and had panicked.
Funny how alike she and Nate were. He’d been dealt a blow when Reese let him go and had panicked, assuming the answer was to hit the road. Old habits were hard to break, especially when the person who supposedly cared withheld their support.
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