by T. J. Kline
After disappearing into her room, she’d decided to distract herself from thoughts of him by researching the rodeo events online. It hadn’t been hard to learn the basics of the events, so she started looking for sites discussing the management of the animals and was shocked by what she’d found. A few sites touted the humane treatment of the animals, but they were outnumbered by pages of anti-rodeo articles, pictures, and videos. Animal cruelty abounded throughout the sport and most of the time was dismissed as just part of the performance. She didn’t think she could stomach being surrounded by it day in and out for the next few weeks.
Angela rose and walked to the window, staring out at the corral below where Sydney rode a gray horse in circles. It was going to be difficult to separate fiction from reality with this story. She couldn’t talk with anyone directly connected with the sport because they’d be biased. She needed to find a large-animal veterinarian to interview about the animal care, something she had no experience with, in order to clear up arguments between the two sides. She bit her bottom lip before grabbing her cell phone and dialing Joe.
“Hey, Gigi!” She cringed at his nickname for her. She hated it with a passion. At least he seemed to be in a good mood.
“Joe, I need a big favor.” She heard his dramatic sigh. “Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a favor.”
“Gigi, I have the station breathing down my neck to get you back from your ‘vacation’ early as it is.”
She pressed on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m heading to the first rodeo on Thursday. I don’t suppose we could get someone out there?”
“Doubt it. First, I don’t have the manpower for it. Second, I told you, you’re on your own until you bring me something substantial.” She heard someone in the background talking to him and he covered the mouthpiece of his phone to answer. “I have to run. An issue with one of the teleprompters,” he explained.
“Can you set up an interview for me with a local large-animal vet? Someone not involved with this stock contractor or rodeo. I want a completely unbiased opinion.”
“That I can do for you, but I can’t promise it will be in the same town. Small towns may not have too many vets, and since you want to be particular, we might have to go to the next town.”
A smile of relief appeared . She could always count on Joe. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’d like to interview them before I head out on Thursday.”
“I’ll text you all the details. Keep me posted.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“By the way, your dad is doing okay. I had to take him home last night, but he wasn’t too far gone. I think he misses you. You might want to give him a call.” She could hear the note of disappointment in his voice.
“I’ll call him as soon as I get a chance.” The guilt pricked her conscience. She’d been gone only a day, but it had felt good to be free from the constant worry.
“Just make sure you do.” Joe sighed again. “You know, I would take care of both of you if you’d just let me.”
She didn’t get a chance to answer before he disconnected the call.
SYDNEY LOOKED UP and waved as Angela made her way to the corral, her legs and rear aching with every stiff step she took. She hoped she didn’t look as awkward as she felt, but the more she concentrated on the pain in her lower half, the more uncoordinated she felt. Sydney laughed and brought the horse to the fence.
“That bad?” She dropped her hand with the reins to the horse’s neck. Gelding, Angela corrected herself.
Angela laughed in spite of the pain. “Yes, isn’t there something I can do?”
Sydney shrugged. “I went through it after having Kassie when I hadn’t ridden for a few weeks. My best advice is to do a lot of walking.”
“But that’s what hurts.” She exaggerated a pained expression. “Who’s this?” She reached through the fence and petted the gelding on the forehead.
“This is Bully. He’ll eventually be one of the horses used by the pickup men.”
“Bully?”
Sydney laughed. “Yeah, he tends to pick fights with the other horses in the pasture and likes to challenge the pecking order. He’s a bit of a bully to the younger horses, so the name stuck.”
Angela looked up at the woman on the horse. She looked like she was about the same age as Angela, but she also seemed to have a sense of composure and serenity that Angela didn’t possess. “How long have you been riding and working with horses?”
“As long as I can remember.” Sydney dismounted and led the gelding to the gate. “Come with me to do the barn. We can talk while I unsaddle him.” Angela tried keep up with Sydney, grimacing as she moved her limbs. “My parents have a cattle ranch near West Hills so I’ve been riding horses and working cattle forever.”
The gelding nudged Sydney on the shoulder, demanding attention as she clipped his halter and began to unsaddle him. “He likes you,” Angela pointed out. “They all seem to.”
Sydney put his halter on and opened her hands, using her fingertips to rub just below his eyes. The gelding stuck his nose near hers, and she watched Sydney kiss him. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” She patted his forehead before reaching for the saddle and disappeared into the tack room.
The gelding turned his attention to Angela, nosing her arm. She reached out a hand, tentatively petting his cheeks, staring into his soft brown eyes. He was a smoky-gray color, with lighter spots covering his coat and white down the middle of his face and his front two legs. Sydney came out of the tack room and led the gelding into one of the empty stalls, patting him roughly on the shoulder as she removed the halter.
“Doesn’t that hurt him?” Angela asked.
“What?” Sydney looked at her, confused.
“When you hit him on the shoulder that way?” Sydney hung the halter on the outside of his stall and she followed Sydney to the tack room where she hung up the bridle.
Sydney glanced at her. “No, horse hide is much thicker than ours. Come into the office,” she said, leading Angela into what she had assumed was another tack room.
She looked around her, surprised by her mistake. Windows graced the sides of the room, one looking into the barn and the other looking out toward the corral. The back wall was lined with bookshelves and file cabinets. Sydney moved to the first cabinet and withdrew a folder, tossing it onto the desk. Angela moved to a studded leather couch against the wall.
“Thirsty?” Sydney opened a small refrigerator in the corner. “I have sodas or water.”
“Water is fine.” Angela took the bottle from Sydney, noticing several boxes with medication on the shelf of the refrigerator. She made a mental note of the labels: boxes of Phenylbutazone paste and sealed packages of vials and syringes with “Fluvac” written on the outside. She recited the names in her head, determined to look them up online when she went inside. She’d read about rodeo stock being drugged to perform and wanted to see if there might be truth to the rumor.
“Other than being sore, how was your first day?” Sydney asked, taking a seat behind the desk and opening the file.
“It was . . . fine.” She didn’t want to relive the moments with Derek today. She wasn’t even sure why she was letting him affect her the way he had. She’d been pretty effective at pushing men away in the past, but Derek didn’t seem inclined to take the hints she was dropping.
Sydney smiled. “That doesn’t sound good.” She twisted her lips, trying to hide a smile. “Derek can be difficult at times, but his heart is in the right place.”
Angela smiled at her, thinking about how patient Derek had been while teaching her to ride. “It wasn’t Derek,” she lied. “I just need to be careful to keep my point of view impartial, and I get the feeling he’s trying to keep me from doing that.”
“Probably,” she admitted, jotting down a note in the file before looking up at Angela. “Derek won’t let anything threaten this family, especially now.”
Angela leaned forward. “What do you mean, now?”
“He did
n’t tell you?” Sydney leaned back in the chair, giving Angela her full attention. “Up until this past year, Derek and Scott have been at odds about his place in the family business. Derek stepped up when Kassie was born, so Scott could spend more time at home with us.”
“He mentioned some friction between them.”
Sydney nodded, her lips twisting to the side. “That’s a nice way of putting it.” She put the file back into the cabinet and took a soda out for herself, popping the top with a soft whish. “Derek hasn’t always made the best decisions. But he’s been a great friend to me since I came here. Scott and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for him. He made us face our fears in order to find a future.” She smiled and tipped the can toward Angela. “I think, maybe, he’s trying to do the same for you.”
Angela stood quickly, not wanting Sydney to analyze the situation between her and Derek for fear she might dig into Angela’s past. “I should probably let you get back to work.”
Angela didn’t even realize she was twirling the ring on her necklace until Sydney rose from behind the desk and reached out to take it between her fingers. “It’s pretty. An heirloom?”
She glanced up at Sydney, surprised to see friendly interest instead of judgment. “It was my mother’s wedding ring,” she answered, her voice strained.
Sydney met her gaze and must have seen the pain she felt at the mention of her mother in past tense. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her hand.
Angela shrugged, erecting the walls surrounding her emotions again, refusing to let anyone see the emptiness that had left a gaping hole in her heart for the last fifteen years. “It’s been a long time. I don’t remember a lot,” she lied.
Sydney smiled sadly. “You and Derek have more in common than I realized. He lost his parents young, too. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone who understands to talk to.” She tipped her head and looked at Angela oddly before drinking the last of the soda and tossing the can into the garbage. “Mike wanted me to iron out the sleeping arrangements before Thursday. We’ll be going this weekend instead of Jen and Clay. Their baby has been coughing, so Jen wants to keep him home.”
Angela frowned at the quick change of subject, wondering if she’d be staying with Sydney in the trailer now. Please, let that still be the plan.
“Kassie will come with us, but she’ll stay in the trailer with you and me. She’s a good baby and sleeps a lot.” She smiled tenderly at the mention of her daughter. “It makes my job a lot easier.”
“Hey, Syd!” The women both turned as Derek entered the barn. Angela saw his eyes grow hot as they caressed her. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.” His voice was husky and he stared at her lips.
Sydney glanced between them before giving Angela a knowing smile. She prayed that Sydney wasn’t able to read her thoughts. She certainly didn’t want anyone to realize the way her heart raced when he walked into the room or the way her limbs felt like they’d turned liquid. Or how heat spread down her spine, warming her every nerve ending and making her feel like she was slowly being consumed by fire.
“I should get back to my research,” Angela muttered. “Thanks for the heads up, Sydney.” She brushed by Derek, unable to avoid touching him, and fought to hold back a groan of pleasure as her breast brushed against his arm as she snuck past him in the doorway before limping back to the house. She closed the front door and leaned her back against it, reaching for the ring. “Oh, Mama, what have I gotten myself into?” she whispered.
Chapter Ten
* * *
ANGELA WOKE STILL fully clothed, lying on top of the covers of her bed. She glanced at the blank computer screen in front of her. She must have fallen asleep while she was doing research, and it had gone to standby. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself up and shoved her thick hair back from her face, pulling a hair tie from her wrist to draw it back. Her fingers deftly plaited it and banded the bottom as she wandered toward the window. Night had fallen, covering the sky like an inky blanket, but lights glowed in the barn. She reached for her cell phone to check the time, realizing she must have slept right through dinner. Ten thirty?
Her stomach protested, growling loudly, and Angela wondered if it would seem rude if she raided the refrigerator. She tiptoed downstairs, pausing with every creak, trying not to wake anyone as she made her way into the kitchen to open the pantry door. Her brows shot upward as she took in the massive quantity of food before her: everything from canned goods, fruit, jams, and sauces to staples like beans, pastas, and baking goods. She wished she were a better cook because Silvie’s kitchen was a chef’s paradise. She couldn’t even guess where to start and gave up, reaching for bread and peanut butter from the shelf. She started to close the pantry door when a shadow in the corner of her vision caught her attention.
A gasp of fear escaped, and she dropped both items as she spun to face the intruder.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek whispered quickly. “It’s just me.”
“Crap!” She felt her heart leap into her throat. “What the hell, Derek?” She lowered her voice. “You scared me half to death.” She bent and scooped up the bread and the container of peanut butter. “Why are you sneaking around this time of the night?” she asked through clenched teeth, trying to control her racing heart.
He shot her a lopsided grin, took the items from her shaking hands, and put them back into the pantry. “I could ask you the same thing. Here.” He opened the refrigerator and handed her a plate covered with aluminum foil. “Silvie figured you’d wake up hungry, so she made a plate for you. Just heat it up.”
Angela stared at him, unsure what to say. Gratitude flooded her chest, filling her eyes with tears. The last time anyone had given even a second thought to her needs was when she was eight, before losing her mother. She’d been the caregiver for her father as long as she could remember, the one who kept his dinner warm, not the other way around. She wanted to hold the tears back, but the harder she tried the more they threatened to spill. Finally, she gave in.
“Hey . . . Aww, man,” Derek muttered, taking the plate from her hands and helping her into one of the kitchen chairs. “It’s nothing to cry about. It’s just dinner.” He slid the plate into the microwave and hit the buttons.
Angela buried her face in her hands and continued to cry, hating that this man, out of everyone at the ranch, was the person to see her break down. “It’s not about dinner. It’s . . .” Angela threw her hands in the air as Derek slid the warm plate in front of her. “I don’t know.”
He sat next to her, and she felt his hand squeeze her knee gently. “Angel, if you want to cry, I’ve got two free shoulders. But, if you’d rather, we can just talk.”
Angela cupped her hands around her eyes and sniffed. The thoughtfulness of this family was something she’d never experienced from anyone before. Throughout most of her life, she’d been surrounded by people clawing to get ahead, no matter what damage might be caused in the process. She’d spent every waking moment living just like them, scraping and struggling to get by and dragging herself into the circle of success, ignoring the wake of bruised and battered people left behind. In her business, it was the only way to get ahead. In a few short days, this family was forcing her to rethink every belief she held.
Her stomach growled loudly in spite of the turmoil going on in her heart, and Derek laughed out loud. “That lasagna isn’t going to stay hot much longer.” He shook her leg gently. “Eat. We’ll talk after.” He stood and walked to the refrigerator, giving her some much needed space to compose herself.
Angela wiped her eyes, her fingers coming away with smeared mascara. Great, I probably look like a raccoon.
She dug into the cheesy pasta with a fork, grateful that Derek hadn’t made fun of her tears. For someone who’d managed to hide her emotions for the last fifteen years, she hadn’t been doing a very good job over the past few days.
“Thirsty?” Derek stood in the doorway of the refrigerator, glancing back at her, his forearm resting agains
t the top. “There’s water, tea, soda, beer . . . What’s your pleasure?”
She nearly choked on her food and wondered if he realized the double meaning of his words. She covered her mouth with her hand and turned toward him, sizzling heat slithering to her stomach and warming her limbs. His lopsided grin told her she’d given him the reaction he’d been looking for, and she tried to frown at him even while she couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Come on, that was funny. You know it was,” he insisted as he slid a cold beer in front of her. “I’m guessing you’re more of a wine girl, but you seem like you could use something to take the edge off.” He slid into the chair. She glanced at the beer in front of her, instantly wondering which bar her father was likely frequenting at this moment.
“No thanks, I’ll just have water.” She returned the beer to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
“You ate that already?”
Angela smiled unapologetically. “I was hungry.”
“I guess,” he agreed, widening his eyes. “For someone so tiny, you’ve got a healthy appetite.” Derek shook his head and took the plate to the dishwasher.
“You know, I could do that,” she said.
Derek shrugged. “I suppose, but I’m already finished. Want to go out to the porch?”
Angela rose and followed him out to the front porch where he reclined on the wicker loveseat, crossing his ankles on the tabletop and patting the spot next to him. She shook her head at him disapprovingly. “What would Miss Silvie say?”
“She’d say, ‘Derek, relax, you work too hard.’” He winked at her and patted the cushion again.
Angela eyed him warily. “You promise to behave this time?” She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to ask him. Nothing like letting him know you’ve been thinking about his kiss all day.
“Cross my heart,” he said, demonstrating.
She sat beside him, careful to keep several inches between them, and took a long sip of the cool liquid, dropping her head onto the backrest and staring out toward the corral. “What are you still doing up this time of night? Don’t you have to get up with the chickens?”