A few ranch hands helped unload, storing saddles, brushing out coats and turning the horses out to graze. He and Renata worked together until she finally asked, “What’s the guy to her?”
“Her friend,” he answered.
“You like him?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really know him. But he’s been a good friend to Poppy, so I guess so.”
“So you don’t like him, but you’re playing nice? Guess that means things are getting serious between you two?” she asked.
“I’m sure as hell trying.” He looked at her, confessing, “I’m in way over my head.”
Renata grinned. “You? Mr. One-Night-Wonderland?”
Toben winced. “That’s part of the problem.” He had been with a lot of women, some he didn’t remember. The nickname was offensive, but it was true. One night, period. Except for Poppy. She’d never faded from his mind. And now, every time he was with her, he knew he was where he was meant to be. Her scent eased him. Her voice called to him. He responded to her—instinctively, primally and completely. He nodded.
“Hate to say it, but I can understand her hesitancy.” Renata patted his shoulder, sighing. “While you’re trying to figure out how to win her over, help me out, too. Are there any decent men left in town for me to date? It’s not fair. I have to leave Stonewall Crossing to get a date. Too many brothers for a fellow in these parts to man up.”
Toben frowned at her. “It’s not just brothers, Renata.” He loved Renata like she were his sister. But, like his sister, he didn’t know a man worthy of her time and affection. Frankly, he was prepared to kick ass and take names if any of the men he knew tried. At the same time, he didn’t want Renata or Tandy lonely and unloved.
Renata laughed. “A gal gets lonely, Toben.”
“I know.” His frown grew. “I’ve met plenty of them.”
“Don’t worry.” Renata sighed. “I’m not adventurous enough to be one of those women. Poppy’s friend is a good-looking man, but I don’t think I need to tell you that.” She looked at him. “And since he’s only a friend, I might just have to introduce myself to him.”
Toben looked at his cousin. He might not want Mitchell Lee hanging around Poppy, but Renata... That could work. “You won’t have to. I’ll introduce you to him.”
Renata grinned. “Even though I know there’s an ulterior motive, I’m going to smile and say thank you.”
Toben chuckled. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter Sixteen
Poppy stared again at the tooled leather bracket now affixed to her saddle. It was rigid, the opening perfect for the slim aluminum pole. She wouldn’t have to hold it as tight or brace it against her side. It would cut back on drag, easing most of the resistance of the flag. Meaning her side wouldn’t be on fire. He’d done this for her—to take care of her.
“Isn’t that fancy?” Mitchell said, following her gaze and inspecting the bracket. “He’s trying hard, isn’t he?”
Poppy nodded.
“And succeeding?” he asked, his smile genuine.
She frowned. “Give me some credit, Mitchell.”
“Can you trust him? That’s what counts, Poppy.” He sighed. “I’m not going to be around as much now—”
“Mitchell,” she interrupted him. “I love you. I’m always going to. You’re my best friend.”
Mitchell smiled at her. “A fact I don’t take for granted.”
She nodded. “But...I want you to be his friend, too. Rowdy shouldn’t have to choose.”
“Okay.” He sighed, heavily. “I give you my word I’ll try.”
“Not to keep tabs. But a real friend.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m sort of hoping he’ll stay around. For Rowdy—not me.”
“Not you?” He sighed, eyeing the bracket on her saddle. “I’ll try.”
“Lend a girl a hand? And go get into your fancy box.” She let him help her into the saddle and smiled at him. “And congratulations on the new job, Mr. Fancy-Emcee-and-Rodeo-Production-Manager. You’re a big important person now.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I thought I always was.”
She laughed. “Go on.” She turned Stormy and let the horse circle the pasture a few times. Her gaze wandered to the horizon, the pinks and blues turning a deep purple as the sun disappeared from sight.
She sucked in a deep breath, a mix of nerves and adrenaline running through her veins. She wasn’t competing tonight, but it didn’t matter. The lights, the sounds, the smells—rodeo woke her up, and nothing else mattered.
She turned Stormy, her gaze sweeping the stands. Rowdy was there somewhere, sitting with Tandy and Cody. She’d given him money for a funnel cake and lemonade and knew he’s be a sticky mess by the time she made it back to the stands. But that was okay—bedtime was hours away. Once the rodeo was over and the dance was done, they’d watch the fireworks.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Stonewall Crossing’s Fourth of July Rodeo Festival. My name is Doug Davison and I’m joined tonight by one of PRCA’s finest emcees, Mitchell Lee.” The speaker crackled.
“Nice to be here.” Mitchell’s voice rolled over her, making her smile. “I’ve never seen a sunset so patriotic before. Will you look at that? Red, white and blue. Makes my heart beat a little stronger.”
She spun Stormy in a circle, kicking up her pace. Not much longer before the big entrance. After two more loops, she urged Stormy to the gate.
Four young women waited on horseback, each carrying an American flag.
“Here you are, Miss White.” One of the wranglers held up the larger flag, helping her slide it through the bracket on her saddle and into the base on her stirrup.
“Miss White,” one of the girls said. “It’s a real honor to ride with you.”
The other three joined in, reminding her how magical it had been when she’d met the women she’d looked up to. Suzanne Carlson, Judy Hailey and Brenna Woods. She’d stared at them, hoping her career would be half as impressive as theirs had been. She was humbled to hear these young ladies talk, to answer their questions and promise that—once they were done—she’d be happy to sit down and talk to them some more.
They did two loops to warm up and burst through the gate into the arena.
She and Stormy led, flying around the fence, then cutting into a figure-eight pattern. It was exhilarating, the speed of her horse and the wind in her hair. She heard the whistles, knew Mitchell was building up the crowd’s enthusiasm. And Rowdy and Toben were watching them. She wanted to make them proud. The four other riders kept circling, but Poppy swung around and trotted back into the center of the arena.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as we stare upon the flag of our great nation, let us stand and sing the national anthem.” Mitchell’s voice was solemn. “Here to lead us is Stonewall Crossing’s own Miss Nina Garza.”
When the last chorus began, Poppy had Stormy kneel. It was what they’d always done, and it seemed right. The crowd went wild.
One more turn around the arena and she and Stormy trotted out.
She handed off the flag and trotted the field twice, the girls trotting right along with her. Once the horses were cooled down, she headed for her truck and trailer. Toben was waiting. She could do this. The two of them were always going to be part of one another’s lives; they had a son to raise together. Her gaze fell to the bracket he’d attached to her saddle. His thoughtfulness had touched her. Dammit.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
She hesitated. Being close to him was bad. But her side was sore and she could use the help. “Yes, please.” She swung from the saddle. He caught her, his hands on her waist, easing her down against his chest until she was on her feet.
“You looked mighty pretty out there, Poppy. You and Stormy are a perfect team.” His voice was low, his h
ands light on her waist.
It would be all too easy to slide her arms around his neck. Instead she stepped back, out of his hold. His disappointment was visible. She resisted the urge to touch him, stammering, “I-It might not have gone so well if not for you.”
His nod was stiff. “Rowdy said your side pulled sometimes. Didn’t want you hurting.”
She shoved her hands in her pockets, fighting the urge to reach up and push off his hat, to kiss him until they were breathing hard and rattled. “Thank you,” she managed.
“Poppy, I—”
“We should find Rowdy,” she interrupted. Her emotions were wound too tight, too raw, to stay here—alone—with Toben. Even though she’d made her decision, her heart wasn’t on the same page.
“Lead the way,” he said. “He have a favorite event?”
She shook her head. “It changes. Sometimes it’s bulls, sometimes it’s broncs.” She paused. “He’s with Tandy and Cody. He and Cody sure have hit it off,” she said, trying to keep their conversation easy.
“Cody’s a good boy, and so is Rowdy. They get it from their mothers,” he said, smiling at her as they walked to the arena. “You’re a good mother, Poppy. And a good woman. The sort of woman that deserves the love of a good man. Still, can’t stop hoping you’ll settle for me and give our family a chance.”
His words made her heart long for that very thing.
* * *
TOBEN DIDN’T SEE much of the rodeo. Between Poppy and Rowdy, he was preoccupied. His son was heading into the ring for Mutton Bustin’ when they found Tandy.
“They both wanted to go,” she explained, pointing out Cody and Rowdy entering the arena.
“He takes this pretty seriously,” Poppy said. “He was asking about the calf scramble earlier this week. Luckily, he’s too young.”
Toben nodded. He didn’t want to think about Rowdy being stomped on by teenage boys and steers. He was mighty, but he was little.
Cody fell off the sheep quick, winding up with a mouthful of dirt. He popped up, smiling and unhurt. They clapped, relieved.
“Watch,” Poppy said, pointing at their son.
Rowdy had a fearsome grip, his hands holding tight to the wool around the sheep’s neck. Rowdy made it all the way to the end of the arena. But he didn’t let go. The sheep spun around and headed right back to the beginning, and Rowdy stuck like glue.
Toben laughed. “That’s a man determined.”
“Can’t imagine where he gets it,” Tandy said.
Toben looked at Poppy. “Much as I’d like to take the credit, I think Rowdy might have a double dose. His ma is pretty tough, too.”
Poppy smiled, taking it as the compliment he’d intended.
Rowdy won, no doubt about it. Three men had to chase the sheep down, and Rowdy held on the whole time. When he arrived back at the stand, he smelled like dirt and sheep and was on an adrenaline high.
Amid the congratulations and pats on the back, Rowdy recounted every second of his ride. Toben listened, loving every expression on his son’s face. To see him so animated, so proud, was something he knew he’d treasure for years to come.
His attention wandered to Poppy, sparkling beneath the lights—smiling so sweetly at their son that his heart hurt. What would it be like to take her hand? For her to be his and everyone here to know it... He wanted that. He wanted his son to have a whole family, a father who loved his mother, who loved their family and never let them down.
“Don’t you think?” Rowdy asked him.
“I didn’t hear that last part,” he said, leaning forward.
“I said Cody didn’t get a good sheep,” Rowdy repeated, loudly, in his ear.
Toben winced. “Yeah, bum ride, Cody.” He glanced at Poppy, who was watching him. How he wished he could tell what she was thinking.
He shook his head, smiling.
The boys tried to convince them to let them join the calf scramble even though the announcer said ten and up.
“Rowdy Barron White,” Poppy chastised him. “Mitchell knows how old you are. Don’t think he won’t call you out on it.”
Rowdy sighed.
“Rowdy Barron?” Toben asked, leaning closer. Damn but Poppy smelled sweet.
Poppy’s eyes widened, her gaze falling to his lips. “After my dad...”
“Fitting,” he agreed. “But he’s a Boone.”
Poppy frowned, her gaze darting to Rowdy, then back to him. “He wasn’t a Boone until recently.”
Toben couldn’t argue that fact. “He is now.”
“Ma,” Rowdy interrupted. “Can we get some popcorn?”
He took the boys to get popcorn and bottled water, wandered through the stalls and ended up by the pens, looking at the broncs and bulls.
“He looks mean.” Cody pointed at a massive bull with long horns.
Toben nodded.
“Ever want to ride again?” Rowdy asked.
Toben looked at his son and shook his head. “Nope. My rodeo days are behind me.”
“That’s okay, Dad—you did great,” Rowdy said, taking his hand.
Toben squeezed his hand, smiling.
They made their way back to the stands to find Poppy and Tandy had admirers. “Dad.” Rowdy sighed, shaking his head.
“And they took our seats,” Cody added.
Toben climbed the bleachers, leading the boys up. He didn’t have to say a thing. He didn’t know if it was the look on his face or Rowdy’s “Excuse me, you’re sitting by my ma” that sent the men packing. Either way, they got their spots back.
Tandy and Cody headed out after the rodeo. Tandy offered to take Rowdy for a sleepover, but he wanted to stay and see the fireworks. Toben didn’t argue. This was their first holiday together. They made their way to the concrete dance floor and found Renata on the stage, helping set up for the live music they’d brought in.
“Having a good time?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Rowdy answered.
“He won the Mutton Bustin’ tonight,” Toben added. “Figure we should celebrate.”
“I’ll come find you once I’m done.” Renata smiled. “Congratulations, Rowdy.”
“Fireworks on the hill?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That’s where we’ll be, then.” He took Rowdy’s hand, stooping to listen to him ask a million questions. When he glanced back at Poppy, he couldn’t help but notice the attention she was getting. Not that he could blame a man for looking. In her sequins, she drew the eye. Once they got a look at her, it was hard to look away. He and Rowdy stopped.
“What?” she asked.
“Thought we’d wait for you,” Toben said.
“Yeah, Ma.” Rowdy held out his other hand. “Dad said the best seats are up here.”
The music started a few minutes later. Renata joined them, a thick blanket in hand. She spread it out and sat. “Now tell me all about your competition,” she said to Rowdy.
Toben stood with Poppy, her agitation putting him on edge. He didn’t know how to make this better.
By the time Rowdy had finished his story, the music had slowed and the faint popping of firecrackers had grabbed Rowdy’s attention.
“Fireworks?” he asked, jumping up.
Renata pointed. “Look right over there, Rowdy. Should start any minute.”
Poppy sighed, swaying slightly to the music. He didn’t need any more encouragement than that. “Dance with me?” he asked.
She stiffened.
“It’s just a dance,” he murmured.
She stepped into his arms, rigid and stiff. Her eyes locked with his and took his breath away. He didn’t know how to win her love, but as fireworks lit up the sky, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “I love you, Poppy.”
> Chapter Seventeen
Poppy glanced at the clock. It was eight o’clock and she’d just rung up the last customer. She locked the door and turned over the sign to Closed. As far as openings went, she knew this one had been good. But she was tired and hoping one or two of the applications she’d received would be good enough to hire. Her dream had been to have her own shop, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend every hour of every day here.
She’d rather be with Rowdy and Toben. They’d had big plans for the day. She didn’t know what their big mystery trip was about, but she knew they were picking up everything they’d need for Cheyenne before picking up the dog and taking her home.
It was so late and she was so tired she decided to see if she should bring something home for dinner. She called, but it went straight to voice mail.
She put the money in the safe, yawning, then flipped off the rest of the lights.
She heard sirens again, but there had been a lot of them these past couple of days. First the parade, then several small fires caused by people setting off fireworks. The grass was so dry it didn’t take much to get a real blaze going.
As she stepped out and locked the front door, a fire truck flew by, followed by an ambulance. She frowned, hoping everyone was okay.
She called Toben’s phone again. Still no answer. Whatever they were doing, she hoped they were having fun. The prospect of Cheyenne’s homecoming and a day alone with his father had Rowdy too excited to sleep even after the rodeo and fireworks the night before. She’d put him to bed, lying at his side until his breathing had steadied and the house had fallen quiet.
Only then did she go to bed, alone, missing the feel of Toben’s heartbeat beneath her cheek. He’d told her he loved her, then helped her load Rowdy up—no expectation of anything else. She’d called Mitchell then, waking him up to spill her every fear and worry and hope and dream.
“Will you regret not giving him a chance, Poppy? You don’t want to live with regret, trust me.” Mitchell’s mumbled answer had made her toss and turn the rest of the night.
She climbed into the truck and headed to the café, where she picked up a few burgers and milk shakes. Then she topped off her gas tank and headed home. She’d crossed the first bridge when a truck pulled up behind her, flashing its lights. She pulled onto the shoulder to let the truck pass. It didn’t. It kept flashing until she stopped her truck. Her stomach twisted sharply, unease pricking up the hairs on the back of her neck.
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