Falling for a Cowboy

by Karen Rock

  Warm air blasted by her cheek as Harley gave an exasperated blow.

  “Okay. Fine. Maybe I’m the one who’s worried.” She gulped over the ball that’d lodged high in her throat since her mother dropped her off. “A lot.”

  Without her full sight, she no longer trusted the world, or herself. She felt like she’d been drop-kicked onto another planet where none of the old rules applied. She couldn’t navigate a world that left her helpless and weak. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with it.

  Why had she promised to come back today? She wished herself back in bed, covers pulled over her head, blocking everything out.

  “Amberley? Is Amberley here?” piped up a child’s voice. The shape of a buff-colored pony and a small form astride it paused outside the open, upper half of the stall door.

  “Here,” she called.

  “I told you she’d come, Fran,” crooned an adult woman.

  Fran. The blind girl Amberley met yesterday.

  “Amberley’s no quitter.”

  She forced a smile to hide her misery. This youngster needed nothing but encouragement. “Nope.”

  Liar.

  “Hurry, Amberley,” Fran called, and a moment later the silence suggested she’d ridden away.

  Amberley’s head hung and her fingers tightened on Harley’s bridle. She wanted to quit this whole moment, but she’d given her word. Besides, riding Harley around the small rink yesterday had helped her remember, just for a moment, the rider she’d once been. It’d given her a break from the shadows growing inside, from the whispers that taunted her.

  Loser. Useless. Nothing.

  She’d thought she had left those voices behind when she’d become a rodeo champion. Now they howled within, louder and inescapable.

  She couldn’t run or hide from her vision loss.

  And she wouldn’t accept it either.

  Doing so meant accepting what she’d lost—whom she’d lost—herself.

  “There’s nothing better for the inside of a man than the outside of a horse,” her mother said over breakfast, quoting one of their favorite cowboys, Will Rogers.

  Yet the reminder only increased Amberley’s gloom. Now she’d never be one of her Western heroes, a fearless rough rider. Her disability trampled her confidence and spirit into dust.

  She must have made a noise because suddenly Harley’s warm neck wrapped around her. No horse loved giving hugs more than Harley.

  I got you, he seemed to be saying. I’ve got your back.

  “I know,” she whispered, breathing in the clean, lavender smell of his freshly washed mane, loving her horse so much. If only she could keep him, though she’d never commit such a selfish act. “But I want to have your back, too.”

  In the distance, a motorcycle engine roared, growing louder and louder before falling silent. Yearning seized her for a ride on her other Harley. She should post an ad to sell it, too.

  “Come on, boy,” she urged, then groped for the latch. Just as she pressed it down, the door swung open.

  “Hey, Amberley.”

  “Jared?”

  Incongruously, her hand flew to her untidy hair. Who knew how it’d turned out or even how she looked? She’d never worried much about that before, especially around Jared. Now that she had to go out in public with no reference at all, except her mother’s clearly biased opinion, she worried that her buttons weren’t done up right or that her shirt didn’t match her pants. Then again, everything went with jeans and cowboy boots, so she supposed she looked halfway decent.

  And why was she suddenly obsessing about her looks around Jared?

  “Miss me?” He must have grabbed Harley’s lead and tugged because her horse stepped quickly out of the stall, nearly leaving her stranded. “Keep your hand on his side until we get to the gate.”

  She pressed her palm to Harley’s moving hindquarters and staggered forward, confused and hurt. “What are you doing here? You promised—”

  “—to leave you be?” he cut her off and slowed the pace when she stumbled on a bumpy bit of terrain. “Right. Well. I’m here in a professional capacity. Not as a friend.”

  “Yeah. Right,” she scoffed. He didn’t fool her one bit. “What’s this professional capacity?”

  “I work here.”

  “What?” Anger and humiliation warred within, shame winning out. She didn’t want him seeing her in the ring like this, so incapable, so needy. “How? Shouldn’t you be training with the Broncos this summer? Getting ready for the season?”

  “I might not be going back.”

  “You’re quitting?”

  “Not exactly...”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Look. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Stubborn cowboy. “And here you are telling me not to quit!”

  “Jared called from the road when he heard we’re shorthanded,” said Benny, wheezing slightly as he joined them “—on account of—” He stopped and cleared his throat.

  “How’s Joan?” Jared inquired, solicitous.

  Amberley’s cheeks heated. By neglecting Harley, she’d gotten Joan hurt and shorthanded Spirit Ranch. And was Jared really quitting the Broncos? If so, he must be mulling over a better offer from another team. It was the only possibility that made sense.

  “Doctor says her knee will be good as new in a few weeks. Till then, we sure appreciate Jared volunteering to help.”

  She could feel Jared’s eyes on her and forced a neutral expression while nodding in the direction of Benny’s voice. It’d be selfish to demand that Jared leave, so she’d stay silent.

  Never miss a good opportunity to shut up.

  Plus, she didn’t plan on attending the program regularly, if at all. From now on, she’d care for Harley earlier in the day, before the program began, and avoid Jared altogether. In fact, that’d work out better since she’d finish in time for her mother to pick her up before she headed into morning court.

  Would her tactic deter her old friend?

  She snuck a sidelong glance at Jared and struggled to focus on his handsome profile. The firm set of his dimpled chin and full lips wavered, then held. She noted his “ready to rumble” expression, the same look he wore before jogging onto a football field.

  A sigh escaped her.

  Deep down, she appreciated his loyalty and determination to help. They never quit on each other, but things changed. She wasn’t the same person. Why couldn’t he see that?

  He hated losing, and that’s all she represented now...a losing proposition. In time, he’d grow impatient and give up on her, his rejection hurting her more than anything. What’s more, she couldn’t bear failure either, especially when she didn’t live up to Jared’s notoriously high expectations.

  Like her father’s.

  Harley halted and she rushed forward a couple of steps, groping for the button to activate the gate, wanting to prove herself. Her hand collided with Jared’s calloused flesh. She jerked back as if stung, her heart beating every which way.

  With a metallic squeal, the gate swung open and she walked beside Harley into the ring.

  “Amberley!” squealed several children. Their small shapes squirmed atop motionless mounts. A few of the other horses answered Harley’s exuberant neigh. His muscles quivered beneath her fingers the way they did before a race. Strange to see him so excited over this sedate interaction.

  “Hey, everybody!” she called, then slid one foot into the stirrup before starting to swing herself into the saddle.

  Suddenly the toe of her boot slipped, the ground rushed up to meet her and her teeth bit down on her tongue.

  Surprise and shame burst within her like fireworks. The chattering children fell silent. Strong hands gripped her elbows and pulled her to her feet. Her quick, hard breaths drew in Jared’s scent: boot leather, cologne spice and clean, male sk
in.

  “Are you okay, Amberley?” called one of the children. Her voice rose several notes in concern.

  “Just fine,” she answered, ignoring the pain that flared up her hips. On the scale of riding mishaps, this barely registered, but the blow to her ego shot off the charts.

  “Are you hurt?” Jared asked, his voice low and urgent in her ear.

  Since when had either of them ever worried over minor accidents? No one fussed about injuries unless a bone was showing or you’d lost feeling...and even then you should cowboy up and walk it off, they’d always said.

  They were tough as nails, bulletproof.

  No more.

  “No.” She kept a smile pinned on for the little ones watching and willed back the humiliating sting in her eyes. “Stop fussing and let go.”

  Instead, Jared settled his large hands on her waist and hoisted her into the saddle. Her face heated again at his high-handed treatment. He’d just ignored her wishes. Is that what happened to the disabled? Did the world stop treating you like you had a right to your own opinions, to make your own judgments?

  Did your body, your life become others’ to control?

  She couldn’t stand that.

  Wouldn’t tolerate it.

  “Welcome, everyone,” she heard Maverick say. She suspected Benny had put him in charge because of his ring experience as a professional bull rider.

  “Howdy, all,” interjected outgoing Jared. “Who’s ready for some fun?”

  Several of the kids hollered back, many recognizing him from football.

  “Can I get your autograph?” one of the mothers standing by her child’s horse asked. “For my husband.”

  Yeah. Right.

  “Sure thing, ma’am,” Jared drawled, always in his element around adoring women.

  “Let’s begin with stretches,” Maverick continued smoothly, ignoring Jared’s interruption in that firm, no-nonsense way that Lovelands had.

  They were men of few words but deep convictions, her mother always said. Descended from an army cavalryman and his Cherokee bride, their unique good looks—black hair, tawny skin and deep blue eyes—made them the most sought-after bachelors in the county, next to the Cade cowboys. The air of mystery surrounding the private crew only furthered the female population’s obsession with them.

  However, out of loyalty to Jared and his family’s generations-long feud with the group, she’d steered clear of them. Whenever she’d glimpsed Maverick at rodeo competitions, she’d kept her distance.

  “Arms overhead,” Maverick urged.

  She raised her hands to the sky and peeked down at the top of Jared’s brown Stetson. He’d tipped it back, she guessed, since she could now make out the tan streak of his forehead. The shine of black—his boots, she supposed—were now planted far apart, as if he braced.

  Did he worry about her? She didn’t need him guarding her, drawing more attention to her deficiencies.

  “Arms out to the side.” At Maverick’s directive, she reached with her fingertips and locked her knees around Harley, getting a sense of her balance without visual cues.

  “How are you doing?” Jared asked.

  “Trying to concentrate.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Really?” she huffed, earning one of his deep, warm chuckles.

  “Now breathe,” Maverick instructed. “Deep breath in through the nose, then all the way out through your mouth. In. Out. In. Out.”

  She inhaled the laurel-scented air, and her lashes drifted to her cheeks. “Now picture your favorite place.” Without the blurred world visible, her imagination took flight.

  She pictured a spot atop Mount Sopris that overlooked Laurel Canyon. Purple flowers waved in the deep valley below, yellow-and-white butterflies fluttering above them in a colorful cloud. Patches of verdant green broke up the flower patches and rolled down to the edge of the sparkling Crystal River.

  Jared, beside her on a checkered picnic blanket, swam into focus. His chiseled features knocked the breath out of her. The touch of gold that radiated in his amber-brown eyes glowed at her... She’d forgotten how handsome he was, or maybe she’d just never let herself look as closely as she did now—when it wasn’t real, when she simply lost herself in a dream.

  Was he her happy place?

  “Alright everyone, let’s go once around the ring now.”

  Jared tugged Harley without warning and she swayed forward, off balance. Her hands landed on the pommel, the only place she could grab since Jared had the reins in his overprotective grip. Hooves plodded in the soft, packed dirt. The chattering children’s voices rose and swelled.

  “Speak gently to keep your mount,” cautioned Maverick from somewhere close. “Otherwise, let your hands and legs do the talking.”

  She made out his mammoth shape beside the gate as she lurched by atop Harley, uncoordinated and ungainly.

  “Looking good up there, Amberley,” Maverick called.

  “Quiet, dude,” Jared retorted. “Only hands and legs doing the talking...”

  “Jared!” she exclaimed, taken aback at the edge in his voice. It took a lot to rile the easygoing cowboy.

  She’d never had a front seat to the Cade-Loveland feud before. After over a hundred years of it, did they even know why they hated each other? Of course, Maverick and Jared had competed on the junior rodeo circuit, their rivalry to outdo one another legendary. Something about this tension, though, seemed fresher. More personal, somehow.

  “Just a friendly reminder to avoid unnecessary chitchat,” Jared protested. “Just like he said.”

  “Much appreciated, Jared,” Maverick called, not sounding the least grateful.

  “Anytime, bud.”

  Maverick’s guffaw followed them around the ring.

  “Friendly, huh?” Jared didn’t fool her one bit.

  A horse nickered behind them, and the child riding it made a low humming sound.

  “I’d like my reins, now.”

  “That’s not safe.” Jared’s face flashed up at her, and she pictured his left eyebrow rising in that skeptical way of his.

  Her fingers tightened on the horn. For the first time, he didn’t trust her judgment, and it hurt. “I did it yesterday.”

  “Maybe you were lucky yesterday.”

  She leaned over Harley’s neck and whispered, “Don’t make me beg,” near Jared’s ear.

  In an instant, the reins slid across the tops of her hands. She curled her fingers around them, and the familiar, comforting sensation snapped her spine straighter. She lifted her chin.

  “Don’t go crazy,” Jared warned, an undercurrent of worry weighing down his attempt at a lighthearted tone.

  A knot filled her aching throat. “Oh. You know me,” she croaked. “Always up for a little excitement.”

  “Amberley,” Jared began.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, dangerously close to humiliating tears.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t care.”

  They plodded along in silence for a few paces before he said, “Well, now. That’s impossible to do.”

  “Then fake it,” she insisted, wishing him gone and, contrarily, glad to have him close—just not in a way that left her feeling smaller and no longer his equal. “Don’t treat me differently.”

  “I’m not,” he insisted.

  But he was. He just couldn’t see it.

  “Pull up now,” ordered Maverick.

  Before she could react, Harley stopped. Something moved near the bridle. Jared’s hands. Her gut clenched. While she’d held the reins, he’d guided Harley—giving her the equivalent of a pony ride.

  So now he was treating her like a child.

  “Think of this rail as all of the challenges you’re facing,” Maverick said. “You’re going to lead your horse over those challenges.
You’re going to conquer them. Got it?”

  A chorus of “Yes” rose from the kids.

  “Bet Amberley and Harley can jump over it!” one of them hollered.

  “I want to see that!” another yelled.

  “Please, Amberley!” the group pleaded.

  “Sorry, kids,” she heard Jared say before she could speak. “But—”

  “I’ll do it!” The rail had to be on the lowest setting, six inches above the ground, if Maverick thought the kids could simply lead the horses over it. No challenge at all. She could do it blindfolded.

  Or legally blind.

  Her jaw set, she wheeled Harley away and brought him into a trot that carried her swiftly to the blurred shape of the gate. She couldn’t quite judge the height, or her proximity, just yet. Unease fluttered in her belly. How many paces to it? Time to jump?

  Relying on instinct, she squeezed Harley’s sides at the right moment, but he balked. She flew over his head and landed flat on her back. At the children’s cries, she struggled to sit up, but the fall had knocked the wind out of her. Calloused hands cupped her face.

  “Amberley!” Jared’s baritone sounded urgent and anxious. “Say something.”

  “Something,” she croaked.

  “Still got her humor,” she heard Maverick drawl from a distance. A deep sound rolled from him, not so much an outright laugh...more of a quiet admission of amusement. “Need a hand up?”

  “I’ve got her,” Jared insisted, possessive.

  “I’ve got it.” She heaved herself into a sitting position, furious with herself, with Jared’s hovering, with everything.

  Angry tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She had to leave before she embarrassed herself more. “Where’s Harley?”

  “Here!” Maverick brought her horse close.

  “Is Amberley alright?” one of the kids whimpered.

  “I want to go home,” another sobbed.

  Harley dipped his head, sniffing her.

  “It’s okay, boy,” she whispered, then gripped his bridle and pushed to her feet. The world tilted and spun, and she locked her knees to keep them from buckling. She would not scare the little ones. “I’m just fine. Got a little ahead of myself is all. Y’all go ahead with the fun and I’ll see you soon.”