by Donna Grant
It was the first time since his breakup with his girlfriend that he found himself thinking about a woman. Not that he would do anything about it. He had to keep his eye on his goals. There was no time for a dalliance of any sort in his plans.
“I saw that.”
He jerked his head around at the sound of Caleb’s voice. “Saw what?”
“You looking at that woman.”
Brice shrugged, hoping his brother would let it go. “You realize that females make up half the population, right? I do look at them from time to time.”
Caleb rolled his dark eyes as he came even with Brice. “I’m laughing on the inside.”
“What’s the big deal about me looking anyway?”
One brown brow shot up in Caleb’s forehead as they walked together. “Did you seriously just ask me that? I’ve been trying to set you up for months now. You keep telling me you aren’t interested.”
“Because I’m not,” Brice interjected.
Caleb halted. “Yeah. All this time, I thought you were torn up about the breakup with Jill. When, really, you were getting on with your life.”
Brice stopped and turned to look at his brother. “I’m not leaving. The ranch is less than thirty minutes away.”
“You’re leaving our ranch,” Caleb said. “What was it? What wasn’t enough? We were a team.”
Brice blew out a breath. “We’re still a team. You’ll always be my brother. Always. Besides, we can’t run the East ranch. It’s Clayton’s, and it’ll pass to his and Abby’s children.”
“Clayton said we’d always have a place there.”
Brice walked back to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that. But I want more. I need something that’s mine. We always talked about having a ranch together.”
“Yeah.” Caleb looked away. “Together.”
“I was going to do this later when we were at home, but I don’t think I should wait,” he began.
Caleb’s brown eyes swung back to him, a worried frown on his brow. “You want to stop competing, don’t you?”
“No,” Brice said, taken aback as he dropped his arm to his side. “Not at all.”
“Oh.” Caleb hooked his thumb through his belt loop. “What, then?”
Brice waited until his brother looked at him. “You said yourself, we’re a team. A damn good one.”
“Unbeatable,” Caleb stated.
“That’s right. The East Ranch is all about cattle. I want to focus on horses. And no one breaks horses better than you.”
This time, Caleb’s frown was full of confusion. “What are you asking?”
“For you to join me. We go into business together. It’s what I wanted from the beginning, but every time I brought up leaving, you changed the subject. When I found the ranch, I knew I couldn’t wait. It was too good of a deal to let it pass by.”
Caleb stared at him in silence for a long time.
Finally, Brice shifted his feet nervously. “Say something, damn it.”
“Tell me this isn’t a handout.”
Anger shot through him. “It isn’t. Why would you think that?”
“You could’ve told me about this at any time. Even after you put the initial payment down to buy the ranch. You didn’t. You waited until now. After you closed on it two weeks ago.”
“Caleb,” Brice began. “I held off specifically because I knew you would think it was charity.”
Caleb took off his hat and scratched his head before replacing it. “We did use to talk about starting our own ranch. As partners. But this is in your name. I’d be working for you. Partners implies that I would be involved in all the decision making. You’ve proven that you want to do things on your own.”
Brice watched his brother return to the truck. He put his hands on his hips and looked up as he blew out a breath. Fuck. That hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. Actually, it had gone so much worse than he’d initially feared.
He yanked off his hat and slapped it against his leg before he continued on to find Darnell Pruitt, who ran the rodeo. After a brief conversation about the next day, Brice headed back to his brother and the silent ride home he knew was coming. That was if Caleb had waited for him. It’d be just like his brother to leave.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
He paused and drew out his cell phone. With the punch of a button, he dialed a number and brought the phone to his ear. After two rings, the call was answered. “Abby.”
“What happened?” she asked, immediately concerned. “Did either of you get hurt?”
That made him smile. From the first rodeo Clayton had entered them in, it was always his sister’s initial question whether she was with them or not.
“Naw, sis. We’re good.”
She let out a loud sigh. “Thank God.” After a hesitation, she asked, “You told Caleb, didn’t you?”
“I did. Well, part of it.”
Abby might be his sister, but she’d raised him and Caleb after their mother ran off when he was only ten and Abby just eighteen.
Brice hadn’t seen or heard from his mother since. And he hoped he never did. Abby was the one he considered his mother. She was the one who’d looked after them, raised them, fed them, and cared for them as if they were her own. She could’ve handed them over to the state. But that wasn’t his sister.
Abby made a sound on the other end of the line. “That good, huh?”
“He thinks it’s a handout.”
“Clayton and I warned you that would happen when you didn’t take him with you to buy the ranch. Does he know the rest?”
Brice looked down at his boots. “He walked off before I could tell him.”
“You better let him cool down. You know Caleb needs to think on things for a bit before he’s ready to talk again.”
“Yeah.”
“Shit. Did he drive off and leave you again? Do I need to send Clayton to pick you up?”
Brice grinned. “I’ve not checked. I’ll find a way home if Caleb left me.”
“If he did, I’m going to give him an earful when he gets back.”
“Leave it. He’s hurting, and it’s my fault. I should’ve told him everything to begin with instead of doing it on my own.”
Abby blew out a breath. “Tell him the rest soon.”
“I will.”
“Brice, I mean it,” she stated in a stern voice.
“I heard you. And you do realize I’m not a kid anymore, right?”
She hesitated a moment. “I know. I just hate when the two of you fight.”
“We’re brothers. It happens all the time,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood. “By the way, we won the first round.”
“Of course you did,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Hurry home. But be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and ended the call.
Brice put the phone back into his pocket and looked toward the parking lot where, hopefully, a ride home waited for him. Abby was right. He needed to tell Caleb the rest of it. But not tonight when his brother was so angry.
Brice started walking to the truck. He did a quick look around for the blonde that he’d spotted earlier when he reached the group of women, but she wasn’t there.
It bothered him that he was searching for her. More than likely, he’d never see her again. He recognized the women who made the circuit with the cowboys in the rodeo, and she wasn’t one of them. Which meant that she was probably just visiting.
That was too bad. He would’ve liked to know the color of her eyes and get her name. And maybe buy her a cup of coffee.
He was walking through the fenced area where the cattle and horses were kept. The crowds had gone, as had most everyone in the rodeo. So when he heard the shout of distress, it stopped him in his tracks.
Brice listened, trying to determine which direction it had come from. About the time he thought he might have mistaken the sound, there was another yell.
He didn’t hesitate as he took off running toward it.
Chapter 3
Something was wrong. Naomi knew it within the space of a few minutes after she’d gotten her friend away from the others. The way Whitney kept looking around as if expecting someone to jump out at any second was impossible to miss.
Naomi had taken photos all over the world in various situations, and she’d learned to pick up on the subtle nuances of people and their surroundings. To discover such tension and anxiety at the rodeo was a surprise.
“What is it?” Naomi asked in a soft voice.
Whitney flashed her a bright smile, showing off her even, white teeth. “What do you mean?”
“I see how you’re glancing around.”
“The chaperones are always near,” Whitney said with a laugh. But it was forced. “It’s nice to get away from them for a bit.”
Naomi nodded, accepting her answer for now. She pulled out her camera and began snapping pictures of the horses and cattle as they munched lazily on hay or stood with eyes closed, trying to sleep.
“The part of a rodeo few see,” Whitney murmured.
Naomi lifted her head from the camera to look at her a quiet moment. Then Naomi focused on one of the bulls that was known for his wildness. Yet now, he stood half asleep, barely paying them any mind.
“The spectators want a show. And they get it.”
Naomi frowned at Whitney’s words. “You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you?”
Whitney smiled again and shook her head. “I’m just tired. It’s been an exhausting day, and there are many more coming before the next pageant. I’ll be going up for Miss Rodeo Texas.”
“You sure you still want to do it?”
“Absolutely. The contacts I’m making are well worth the constant chaperones and all of this,” she said, gesturing to her heavy makeup, styled hair, and clothes.
Naomi took several more photos of the bull before moving to the next pen. Whitney was silent for a long time. Naomi became so engrossed in her work that she forgot about her friend for a moment. When she looked out of the corner of her eye, Whitney was staring off to the side into a darkened area away from Naomi. The way her friend’s chest rose and fell rapidly told her all Naomi needed to know.
She turned gradually, taking pictures until she faced the direction Whitney was looking. Suddenly, a blur of movement came out of the shadows.
The person slammed into Whitney, knocking her against a pen, startling a bull. Whitney gave a shout of surprise. Naomi raised her elbow, connecting with the attacker’s face. To her shock, strong hands grabbed for her camera.
“Hey!” Naomi shouted and protected her equipment with both hands. She kicked her foot at the man’s knee and smiled in satisfaction when he let out a curse as she connected with his leg.
But the man persisted. His hat and the shadows hid his face, but she could feel his angry eyes, hear his heavy breathing and grunts as he attempted to get the camera. She was yanked this way and that, and she could feel her fingers slipping as his stronger hold won out.
The next thing she knew, someone else was there. The newcomer pulled her attacker off her, but his hands were still around the camera. She no longer had the strength to hold on. It went flying from her grasp and fell to the ground with a crunch that made her cringe.
Naomi forgot her equipment and rushed to help Whitney. By the time her friend had her feet under her again, the attacker was gone, and their rescuer climbed to his feet with his back turned.
But she recognized the red and orange plaid. Her eyes fastened on his thick, deep brown locks. She held Whitney as Brice Harper bent and retrieved his hat. He dusted it off before setting it back on his head. Then he turned to them.
She found herself staring into pale blue eyes. They entranced her, ensnared her. If she had thought him handsome while working his horse in the event, he was breathtaking standing before her now.
Tall and broad-shouldered with a quiet intensity that made her heart skip a beat. Her gaze raked along the hard line of his jaw and his wide lips. Her fingers itched for her camera to capture the moment.
His clothes were dusty from the scuffle, the corner of his lip bleeding, but he gazed at her with surprise, worry, and … interest.
She could only watch as he walked to her camera and retrieved it. Then he slowly made his way to them, his gaze darting to Whitney before returning to her.
“Are either of you hurt?”
Naomi shook her head before turning to Whitney. “What about you?”
Whitney lowered her eyes to the ground and quickly said, “I’m fine.”
“Who was that?” Naomi asked.
Brice shrugged, his lips twisting. “I didn’t get a look at his face.”
Naomi twisted to make Whitney look at her. “Do you know who it was?”
“No.”
It was a lie. But why would Whitney lie to her? Naomi wiped the frown from her face when she turned back to Brice. “Thank you for helping us.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’m Naomi, by the way. Naomi Pierce.”
“Brice Harper. I’m afraid this might be broken,” he said and held out her camera.
She winced as she saw the cracked lens. There was no telling what else was broken, and she wouldn’t know until she was able to open it up and look.
Naomi turned the camera over in her hand. “He wanted this.” She looked from Whitney to Brice. “I think because I got him on film.”
“He didn’t do anything,” Whitney said as she lifted her head.
Naomi looked at the darkened area where the guy had been. She recalled Whitney’s earlier anxiety and swung her gaze to her friend, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.
What the hell was going on?
Naomi turned her attention to Brice. He wore a frown as he looked Whitney over. Did he notice that something was off, as well? Surely, it wasn’t all in her head.
“You took a picture of him?” Brice asked her.
Naomi eyed her friend to see her reaction as she said, “I noticed that Whitney was staring into those shadows, and she seemed nervous.”
“It’s nothing,” Whitney said. “I let my imagination get the better of me.”
“Then why did he go after the camera?” Brice asked.
Whitney looked at Naomi for a long, silent minute. Just as she was opening her mouth to speak, someone called out Whitney’s name.
A few seconds later, a woman in her late fifties with short, bleached hair and caked-on makeup appeared. Her pink shirt was embroidered with flowers at the collar and tucked into too-tight jeans that made her stomach bulge over the waist.
“Oh, there you are,” the woman said when she saw Whitney. But the welcoming smile vanished when she spied Brice. Then she noticed the dirt on Whitney’s shirt. “What happened?”
Naomi didn’t wait for her friend to speak. “A man pushed Whitney down and tried to take my camera. Luckily, Mr. Harper was near and helped us.”
Brice tipped his hat to the woman. “I’m glad I arrived in time.”
“Thank you,” the woman said and ushered Whitney away.
Naomi didn’t follow. She was still shaken by the attack, but also her certainty that her friend was hiding something. When she pulled her gaze from Whitney’s retreating back, it was to find Brice squatting near the shadows where the man had been.
“Did you find something?” Naomi asked as she walked to him.
Brice straightened before he turned his head to her. “Which way did y’all come?”
“Um,” Naomi said as she spun around. “There, there, and then there,” she said pointing to the way they’d weaved through the pens.
Brice didn’t say anything else as he walked to the spots that she had indicated. Each time, he squatted and inspected the ground.
“Someone was following the two of you,” he finally said.
A shiver went down her back. “I didn’t notice. I was too intent on the animals. But I knew something was wrong with Whitney.”
“How so?” he pressed.
Naomi shrugged, trying to find the words to express her feelings. “Just a general sense. Whitney kept looking around like she expected to see someone.”
“And then the man appeared?”
“Not until I took his picture,” Naomi said. “He might have remained in the shadows, but Whitney’s anxiety was palpable. I wanted to know what would do that to her. I’ve known her since grade school, and we talk several times a week.”
Brice pushed the hat on his head back. “Whitney and the other pageant girls have chaperones so they should be safe.”
Naomi laughed. “You think this guy was after me? No. It’s not me. It has to be Whitney. I just arrived today from DC.”
“Whitney’s a local girl.”
Naomi had to give Brice props for his subtle way of learning information. “I grew up here. I moved to go to college.”
“And stayed.”
She chuckled. “Something like that.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing hurt?”
“Just this,” she said and lifted the camera, thinking about the expense of getting it fixed. “I have others, but this was a favorite.”
Brice adjusted his hat. “Can I walk you back to Whitney and the others?”
“Assuming you aren’t with the man who attacked us?” she asked, brow raised, and a grin on her lips.
Brice smiled, showing even, white teeth. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he wiped at his bloody lip. “Assuming.”
“Thanks. I’d rather not be alone at the moment.”
They fell into step together as they headed back to Whitney. After a few moments, Naomi asked, “If the chaperones are always around, why did Whitney get to walk away with me? No one stopped us? And why did it seem as if Whitney knew who was there and wanted to protect them?”
“Maybe she’s protecting herself,” Brice suggested.
Naomi didn’t like that thought. “I can’t imagine that. Once, in high school, a guy cornered one of our friends. Whitney walked up and punched him, breaking his nose. She’s that type of person.”
“Could something have happened that you don’t know about?”