by T. J. Kline
“This isn’t exactly the way I pictured life turning out either. But, sometimes, we have to make the best of what we have.” She thought about her nightmare and how much she hated hauling the rigs from rodeo to rodeo, fearful with each turn that someone might cross over the divider and change her life again. “Rodeo is what we do, what Mom and Dad did and raised us to do, and Mike needs us. He was there when we needed him. If you want to study something else, go ahead, but at least get your business degree first.”
Jen nudged her horse into a jog to the arena gate, casting another glance at the man seated at the opposite end, still watching her. She felt her chest constrict in a knot. Nope, life wasn’t fairy tales and happy endings. Most of the time, it was hard work and making the best of situations you’d rather avoid.
Chapter Two
THE SUN BEATING down on his shoulders as he waited for his go-round wasn’t nearly as hot as his temper right now. How dare those three bail on him? He’d quit riding the circuit years ago because he was tired of depending on irresponsible “friends” for his paycheck. If he wanted to rodeo, he’d go back to bulldogging and collect the entire purse for himself. Instead he was hazing, using his horses to keep steers in line for guys who didn’t even bother to call and let him know they weren’t coming after all. Luckily, it wasn’t a completely wasted trip. A few guys who knew him begged Clay to haze for them. He patted the shoulder of his mount. Maybe he could at least earn his gas money back from his cut of their winnings.
His eyes slid to the other end of the arena where Jen sat on Scott’s paint gelding, Noble, another horse he’d helped them break and train. Sunlight glinted off the golden highlights in her hair, and her profile made her look regal. She lifted her chin up as the announcer called out the rodeo sponsor, and she loped Noble around the arena, the flag snapping in the wind that the animal’s speed created. Watching her move with the horse, her hips rocking in time with his gallop, made him think about the last time those thighs were wrapped around him. He felt his irritation cool as his desire heated.
He couldn’t help but grin as she rounded the curve of the arena where he waited at the gate. He wondered if she realized he was there. Clay watched her spur the horse, gently asking for more speed as she rounded the turn. Dirt clods kicked up from Noble’s hooves, spraying Clay with mud as he ducked his head. He looked up in time to see her glance back at him with a wide smile gracing her full lips, her eyes bright with gratification.
Yep, she noticed you here. Sucker.
Jen had never been able to hide anything, at least not from him, and now was no exception. He could easily read the satisfaction she felt at spraying him with mud, but he could also see the hurt she was trying to hide. She wore her heart in those dark eyes. Eyes so dark and fathomless, a guy could lose himself for days. Which was part of why he’d had to leave. Before he lost himself to her completely.
“Clay, you coming?” the steer wrestler asked as he went through the gate.
Clay stared at Jen, tipping two fingers against his hat, and watched the laughter die in her eyes, replaced by fury. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She wasn’t as unaffected by him as she pretended to be. He tore his eyes from the gorgeous woman fuming at the other end of the arena as the cowboy manning the gate let him through.
Focusing on the steer in the chute, he backed his mare inside and eased her to the rear of the box. He could feel her muscles twitching with anticipation and felt a moment of satisfaction at the mare’s abilities. She loved her job, loved the burst of speed as she kept the steer lined up and running straight, and was a natural for the sport. He looked at the cowboy in the box, waiting for his nod signaling the man at the chute to loose the steer.
Both cowboys came out of the box simultaneously, and Clay watched as his partner leaned off his horse, his hand sliding up the side of the steer’s neck to curl around the right horn as his left hand pulled the other one down, turning the steer’s head toward his armpit. The cowboy’s horse continued forward without him as he slipped his feet from the stirrups and dug his heels into the soft dirt, wrapping his hand around the steer’s muzzle and curling its head so that their momentum carried them both to the ground. Clay watched over his shoulder, slowing his mare as he retrieved his partner’s gelding from where he had stopped and stood patiently waiting.
As they exited the arena, he led the steer wrestler’s horse back to the arena entrance, preparing to make the run again, this time with a young, first-time bulldogger. He knew the kid wouldn’t be in the money, but everyone needed to start somewhere, and he wanted to help him out.
He caught a blur of a black and white paint horse coming around from behind him, and his heart pounded painfully against his chest before kicking into high gear. When he realized it was Scott, riding his own horse again, he couldn’t help but feel a flood of disappointment. Clay clenched his jaw at the reaction. He was not looking for Jennifer. He didn’t want to talk to her or watch her ride or remember how soft her lips were against his. Coming to this rodeo had been a bad idea, he thought to himself for the hundredth time already.
“CLAY!” HE TURNED around and saw Mike riding toward him on the ugliest sorrel he’d ever seen. He remembered Digger. Every cowboy loved the gelding. He was the ugliest beast on the ranch but also the most trustworthy; the crew fought to use him for rodeos when the boss wasn’t riding him. “A little bird told me you were here.”
Clay dropped his grooming supplies into the tack compartment of the trailer and shoved the saddle onto the rack. “Scott?”
“Jennifer,” Mike corrected.
Clay couldn’t help arching his eyebrow, surprised that Jennifer had even acknowledged his presence, let alone mentioned his name. “I thought my ears were burning.”
“I made her put the voodoo doll away,” Mike joked. “Heading back out already?”
“Oregon’s a long drive,” Clay replied.
“Don’t rush off. Stay and have dinner with us.”
The old man had been like a father to Clay, which he’d always appreciated since his own father had run off when he was just a kid. It hadn’t been easy growing up with few male role models, watching his mother skip from bed to bed trying to find a man to take care of her. She’d only ended up with heartbreak, too many mouths to feed, and several unhealthy addictions. Clay had been fortunate enough to earn a scholarship to a college as far away as he could get at seventeen. He had been lucky to get away and even luckier to land the job with Findley Brothers, as inexperienced as he’d been.
About as lucky as you were to have Jen fall in love with you. But you ruined that, too, you idiot.
“I don’t think everyone will be as happy to see me as you are, Mike.”
The old man crossed his wrists over the saddle horn, his reins dangling in his fingers, and laughed. “Jennifer’s not going to do anything. You know better than anyone, she’s all bark and no bite.”
Clay glanced warily toward the Findley Brothers’ trailers. Even though he hoped to catch another glimpse of her, he knew it was best to avoid her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mike. I mean, what if—”
“I have a proposition for you, Clay,” he interrupted. “I need your help. One of my guys just had to bail, personal reasons, and I can’t find someone else on this short of notice. We have a rodeo next weekend, and I really need someone with experience or we’ll have to cancel.”
“What about Derek?”
Mike cocked his head to the side. “I love that boy, but we both know Derek is not a pickup man. At least, he won’t be anytime soon. He has a lot of growing up to do before I want to put him in charge of saving lives.”
“I haven’t talked to him since I left, so I can’t say.” Clay didn’t want to point out that Derek was simply coddled by everyone at the ranch and needed to stand on his own feet for a bit. He’d cowboy up if anyone ever gave him the opportunity. But it wasn’t his place to say anything. He’d given up that right when he walked out on Jen and the rest of the family.
“Mike, I have to get back to Oregon. I have a job there, remember?” He knew he was making excuses and was sure Mike did, too.
Mike sat up in the saddle, sighing heavily, and shook his head. “Okay, I just thought that since you skipped out on me once before, you’d want to make it up to a feeble old man.”
Clay laughed out loud. “Feeble, you? When did you start dishing out guilt trips?”
“About the same time you decided to leave me in a lurch five years ago.” His eyes twinkled with merriment, as if he knew Clay was about to give in. Mike never minced words, but he didn’t seem to hold Clay’s departure against him. Clay knew he couldn’t say no, not after all Mike had done for him in the past.
“Fine. I’ll let them know I won’t be back until next week. They don’t have anything on the schedule for a while.” Clay narrowed his eyes as Mike grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. “I’m only going to this one rodeo, Mike.”
“One rodeo, got it.”
Why did Clay get the feeling he’d just sold his soul to the devil?
JENNIFER BROUGHT THE sausages to Scott at the barbecue pit and sighed. She felt weary, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the stress from traveling, not sleeping because of her nightmares, or Clay showing up at the rodeo today. Her eyes slid across the near-empty parking lot where most of the crew congregated, waiting for dinner, and saw Derek laughing with Clay by one of the trailers.
“What is he still doing here?” she muttered. It irritated her that everyone seemed to accept his presence as if he’d never left.
The corner of Scott’s mouth quirked. “He said Mike asked him to stay to help with the rodeo next weekend.” He slid the plate of sausages from her hands like he didn’t trust her not to throw them.
“He did what?” Mike knew what a low-down, conniving, back-stabbing jackass Clay was. Why would he possibly ask him to come back, even for a weekend? “He wouldn’t do that.”
“He did. Jake’s dad is sick, and it looks like he’ll be in the hospital for at least a week. Mike told him to go be with his dad as long as he needs to.” She could see the empathy in Scott’s eyes. They understood the pain of losing a parent, and none of them would ever begrudge someone time with family. Even if it meant she had to face Clay for a week.
“Is he going to be all right?”
Scott chewed at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t know.”
“I’ll call and see how he’s doing tonight.” Jen looked back where Clay was now laughing with several of the crew. She wondered if she could manage to just ignore him until after the next rodeo. He had changed a lot in the past few years, filling out in all the right places. But his green eyes were somber, even more so than when he’d first come to work for Mike at the ranch. There had always been a quiet melancholy that hung over Clay, and he refused to open up about his past. Whenever she asked, he would grow silent before changing the subject, always reminding her how grateful he was for her love.
Now, he had a determined set to his chiseled jaw, and when his full lips spread to laugh, a dimple creased his left cheek. She’d always loved his smile. Her eyes flicked up, and she realized he was watching her appraising him. She looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t assume her evaluation was any indication of attraction. That was the last thing she would ever feel for Clay Graham again. She might be a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of them.
She headed for her trailer to prepare a pitcher of tea, refusing to give any credence to the idea that she might be retreating into the one place she knew Clay wouldn’t be brave enough to enter. She ignored the flutters in her belly at the thought of him staying for a week. Damn Mike for asking him to stay, and damn Clay for accepting the offer. She stirred the sugar into the tea with a vengeance borne out of anger before bumping the screen door open with her hip and stepping onto the metal stairs.
“Here, let me help.”
She jumped at the sound of Clay’s voice, tripping down the last step, nearly falling in the short grass, and spilling tea over the side of the pitcher onto her hand. Clay’s hands found her waist, catching her, and heat sizzled down her sides, making her heart race and pooling in her stomach before traveling lower. She quickly stepped away from him, leaving him with his hands suspended in the air for a moment, as if he didn’t know how to react to her escape. Clay dropped his hands against his thighs and sighed, staring at her as if her reaction disappointed him.
“I can manage on my own.” She looked away, drying her hand on her jeans. Unable to miss the sharp, icy note in her own voice, she wished she could have faked ambivalence instead. “I’ve been doing it for a long time without you.”
Way to make him think you’re over him, Jen.
Clay bit his lower lip, taking a deep breath through his nose, controlling himself. She remembered how he used to do it whenever he got angry. What did he have to be angry about?
He let out the breath slowly, weighing his words. “I know you have.” His voice was husky and deep, like the Scotch Mike had given her to dull the pain after she’d realized he wasn’t coming back, after he’d apologized to everyone but her. “Jen, I’m sorry I left the way I did. I should have at least called you.”
“You think?” The words were jagged and calloused, the way her heart felt. “You left me sleeping with your ring on my finger the day after giving it to me. Why did you even bother asking? And to think, your apology only took five years to make. Glad I didn’t hold my breath waiting for it.”
She spun to leave, but he reached for her elbow, pulling her back toward him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jen.”
Of all the things she’d expected to hear from him, of all the excuses she imagined over the years, this was the most asinine thing he could have said. With nearly five years to think of something, anything, to say, this was the best he could manage? She couldn’t help the acrimonious laughter that spilled out.
“You asked me to spend the rest of my life with you and then disappeared in the middle of the night without so much as a good-bye. Then you called and apologize to my family, not me but my family, and now you say you didn’t mean to hurt me? What did you think it would do?”
He ran his free hand over his face, looking haggard and sorrowful. “I don’t know. I was a stupid kid. It was five years ago. I didn’t know how to tell you I was scared.”
“You were scared?” She jerked her elbow from his fingers. “Did you ever stop to think I might be scared too? But when you love someone, you work through the fear. I loved you enough to muddle through it and face the fear with you. Apparently, I was the only one.”
“That hasn’t been my experience with love. I’ve seen too much go wrong, seen love fail every time. And that wasn’t what I was afraid of, Jen. With my past—”
“I don’t know your past, Clay.” She could feel her heart softening, wanting to give in to him, to forgive him. She’d loved this man once, with every beat of her heart, but it hadn’t been enough. “You wouldn’t open up to me. You never did.”
She wanted to see the sadness disappear from his eyes the way it used to when they were together, to let him hold her the way he used to, the two of them shutting out the world. Her heart beat painfully against her ribs. Giving in to him and watching him walk away again would kill her. The first time had taught her the foolishness of allowing someone into every recess of her heart. She wasn’t stupid enough to do it twice.
“You had your chance and you threw it away. It’s going to take more than a lame excuse for me to forgive you.” She spun on her heel, leaving him and their past behind her.
CLAY FOLLOWED JEN’S every move with his eyes, barely listening to Scott. Jen rose and threw her paper plate and plastic utensils in the garbage bag tied to the end of the table. She had no idea how graceful she looked, even doing menial tasks, or how much he had missed watching her over the past few years. Years of staring at the picture he’d kept in his wallet hadn’t done justice to seeing the living, breathing woman in front of him now. S
he had an easy, understated elegance about her. Something about the way she made riding any horse look effortless and the way she seemed to glide as she walked. Every movement was fluid, like she was dancing. He couldn’t help but remember how she looked lost in the throes of passion.
Better stop now, Clay, because if she knew what you were thinking about, she’d kill you right here in front of everyone.
His body seemed determined to defy his brain. No woman should look the way she did. With her hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap, she was the picture of innocence. Everything about her was modest, as if she were trying to hide her beauty, but any man could see it. She was barefaced, as always after a rodeo, but she had never needed any sort of makeup. Her dark lashes surrounded eyes so deep brown that they were almost black. Her olive skin tone was highlighted by a tan from spending so much time outdoors. Her golden brown ponytail hung in loose waves almost to her waist, longer than he remembered, and he itched to run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to slide his fingers over the indentation at her waist and the gentle flare of her hips. The last five years had been kind to her, turning her coltish frame into womanly curves.
“You’re a glutton for punishment, Clay.” Scott pointed out the obvious.
Clay tore his eyes from Jen as she entered her trailer. “What makes you say that?”
“You know she hates you, right? She’d rather shoot you than forgive you.”
He knew Scott was joking, sort of, but his heart clenched anyway. It killed him knowing how badly he’d hurt her when he’d left, but after their earlier conversation, he didn’t think she really hated him. In fact, he wondered if her hurt wasn’t the main reason for her anger.
Clay rolled his eyes and gave Scott a confident grin. He was starting to formulate a plan for the next week. “Only because she needs a little persuasion.” He let his gaze linger on her as she came out with another pitcher of iced tea.
“You obviously don’t remember how my sister can hold a grudge.”