The Cowboy and the Cop

by Christine Wenger

  From what he’d heard from other riders, Blue Falls had regular rodeos with a lot of the proceeds going to local charities and community improvement projects. But this weekend’s event was the first time organizers had offered a purse sizable enough to really attract extra notice from those trying to up their standings and move another step closer to competing at the Finals in Vegas in December. Which was his ultimate goal. After years of clawing his way to this point, he finally had a second shot at the Finals. He’d made it three years ago, barely, but had ended up in next-to-last place. This year might be his last viable chance, so he had to make the most of it. Choose the most advantageous rodeos to compete in, ride in each one as if it were the Finals and not let anything get in his way.

  And a nice payday was always pretty darn attractive. After all, if he was going to spend his career staring at highways, the dirt of arena floors and the backsides of steers, he’d like to be paid well for it.

  He found a spot next to the pickup Bo Whittaker had been driving since Jason wrestled his first steer on the pro circuit. Bo was a bareback rider who had a good five years on Jason’s own thirty, and he showed zero signs of retiring anytime soon. Bo was one of those guys Jason couldn’t imagine doing anything other than rodeo, much like his own family. Hanging out with Bo was a bit like being with his dad, who’d also been a bareback rider before he’d had to retire from competition due to injury. Except the age difference, of course, and the fact that Jason’s parents had been married since they were nineteen and Bo was a confirmed bachelor. Not that Bo didn’t like the ladies, because that also wasn’t in doubt.

  Jason ran into the man himself as he was leaving the sign-in area. Bo held up a paper-wrapped sandwich half the size of his head.

  “You gotta try one of these barbecue sandwiches,” Bo said. “I’d sell my own grandma for one of these.”

  Jason laughed. “I have a feeling your grandma would have something to say about that.”

  Bo nodded. “She’d probably whack me upside the head with her cane.”

  Jason had met Bo’s grandma and could totally see that happening.

  He took his friend’s advice and plunked down some cash for a huge pulled pork barbecue sandwich and a freshly squeezed lemonade. He took a bite while waiting for his change. His taste buds woke up from hibernation and sang a hymn glorifying the sandwich.

  “Good stuff,” he said to the woman who returned with his change. “Used to beef in Texas, but this hits the spot.”

  “My daddy was from West Tennessee and made a mean pork barbecue. I do my part to convert all these beef folk,” she said.

  Jason smiled. “Good luck with that.”

  He was pretty sure the state animal of Texas was a longhorn, and that wasn’t just because they loved football.

  Trying not to gobble down his sandwich like some sort of ravenous beast, he wandered toward the arena. A few people were already seated in the grandstands—diehards who’d arrived early to pick their favorite spots.

  He took another swig of his lemonade as he eyed the arena. Pretty typical for an outdoor facility in a small town—dirt that had been worked loose on top of the hardpan beneath, ad banners affixed along the perimeter fencing, stock pens behind the chutes, large arena lights that would attract thousands of bugs once night fell.

  His gaze halted when he spotted a woman leading a group of eight kids from the barn area toward the stock pens. He could tell she was talking to them as she pointed toward the still-empty pens. Was she a teacher and this some sort of school trip?

  When the woman turned toward the arena, he got a better look at her. Though her face was partly shaded by her light-colored cowgirl hat, he could tell she was pretty. A blond braid descended to just below her shoulders. Her jeans appeared to fit her long legs to nice effect.

  He spotted Bo back toward the barns, and something about the idea of him approaching this woman and the trailing youngsters had Jason tossing his now-empty cup and sandwich wrapper into the trash barrel and heading toward them.

  “See that area there?” she said to the kids as Jason drew close enough to hear her. “That’s where the cowboys wait their turn to ride in their events.”

  “Are they scared?” one little boy asked.

  “Maybe sometimes,” the woman said.

  “Nah, we’re too crazy to be scared,” Jason said as he rested one arm along the top of the metal fencing that made up the stock pens.

  The woman turned toward him, tipping back the front brim of her hat a bit. He had the urge to laugh at the way her eyebrows bunched together, but some sense of self-preservation told him that was a bad idea.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Saw you all over here and thought I’d say hello and ask if I can help you out.”

  Her expression eased slightly. “We’re just doing a tour of the facilities before the rodeo gets under way.”

  “Are you a rodeo cowboy?” a little girl he’d guess was maybe eight or nine years old asked.

  “I am.” He extended his hand to the girl. “I’m Jason. What’s your name?”

  The girl stared at his hand then up at the woman. When the blonde placed her palm against the child’s back and nodded once, the girl extended her tiny hand and shook his.

  “Phoebe.”

  Thinking maybe he looked intimidating to someone so much shorter than he was and being a stranger to boot, he was careful not to hold her hand too firmly.

  “That’s a pretty name. Do you like rodeos?”

  “We’ve never been to one,” another boy, this one a bit older, said.

  Instead of asking more questions, Jason shifted his attention to the woman and noticed she was watching him as if sizing him up, determining if he was a threat to her young charges. He got the feeling she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever was necessary to protect them.

  “Do you have any questions?” he asked the boy without taking his eyes away from his protector.

  “Sloane said there are different events. What do you do?”

  Sloane. That must be the mystery blonde’s name. It fit her somehow, pretty but strong and no-nonsense. He had no idea how he was able to garner that much about her in only a handful of minutes, but his gut told him he was right.

  He smiled just a hint and shifted his gaze to the boy. “I’m a steer wrestler.”

  “That’s the one where you jump off the running horse and tackle a cow with horns?”

  Jason chuckled. “Something like that.”

  He figured a lesson on the differences between steers, cows, heifers and bulls was probably a bit too much detail for the youngsters.

  The boy asked several more questions in quick succession, as if he were being tested to see how much rodeo knowledge he could stuff into his brain in a certain amount of time. When he started to ask another, Sloane held out her hand to halt him.

  “That’s enough, Daron. We’ve taken up enough of Jason’s time,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” Jason said, drawing her attention back to him. “I don’t mind.”

  Especially if it kept Sloane around a little longer.

  A second woman joined the group, accompanied by another little girl. These two, however, he could tell were related. The woman made eye contact with him for a moment, offered a smile, but then shot Sloane a questioning look.

  Sloane motioned toward the new arrivals. “My sister, Angel, and niece, Julia.”

  They didn’t look as if they were blood-related, not with Sloane being blond and fair and Angel of Native American descent, but the country was full of blended families.

  He extended his hand to Angel. “Jason Till. Nice to meet you.”

  Angel shook his hand. “You, too. Are you one of the riders?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “He’s a steer wrestler,” Daron said with so mu
ch enthusiasm that Jason couldn’t help but smile.

  “We should get to our seats,” Sloane said.

  “We’ve got plenty of time,” Angel replied.

  He caught the look of surprise Sloane shot her sister, and if he wasn’t mistaken Angel reciprocated with one of mischief. Sloane, the surprised expression now totally gone as if it had never existed, turned to him.

  “Thanks for taking the time to talk to the kids.”

  “No problem.”

  “Good luck tonight.”

  “Thank you. I’ll do my best to put on a good show for these guys,” he said as he motioned toward the kids.

  She said nothing else, just offered a quick smile and nod before she turned all of her attention to directing the kids toward the grandstands. Little Phoebe looked over her shoulder at him and offered a shy wave. He waved back, surprised by the way her smile lifted his mood. It wasn’t as if he was in a bad mood, but there was just something so sweet and pure about the little girl.

  “I don’t suppose you have any free time this weekend, do you?”

  The question caught him totally off guard. Was Angel about to ask him out? Not that she wasn’t pretty because she definitely was, but she wasn’t the sister who had captured his attention.

  Before he could answer, she motioned toward Sloane and the kids. “My sister runs camps for underprivileged kids, where they come out and spend a weekend on our ranch. They get exposure to the animals, camp outside, learn about ranch life. This is the first time we’ve brought them to a rodeo, and it seems as if they’re interested in learning more. Thought maybe you could come out to the ranch and talk to them some more about what it’s like to be a rodeo cowboy.”

  He’d never done anything like that before, but if he got to spend some more time with Sloane...well, it would sure beat hanging around the fairgrounds listening to tales of Bo’s latest romantic exploits.

  “I could do that.”

  “Great.” She rifled through her purse, then pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “Just text me when’s a good time for you and we’ll make it work.”

  He gave her a nod and watched as she joined the others. When he saw the curious look on Sloane’s face, he bit his lip to keep from laughing. He knew that expression, having seen it from his own sister on more than one occasion. It promised payback like only a sibling could serve up.

  When Sloane shifted her gaze to him, he tapped the brim of his hat with his index finger and offered what he hoped was a smile charming enough to relax her suspicion. When she merely turned away, he did laugh under his breath.

  “I’m telling you, that one’s going to be a tough nut to crack,” Bo said as he joined Jason. “Lot easier ways to get some female company.”

  “Maybe some things are worth working for,” he said as he gave Bo a backhanded slap to the chest, then headed toward the barn. He needed to get in the right headspace for the competition. After all, he had to put on a good show for the campers.

  And if their camp counselor liked what she saw, all the better.

  * * *

  SLOANE HARTLEY STARED hard at her approaching sister. “You are up to something.”

  Angel made a pffftt sound as she reached Sloane. “I think you have me confused with our brothers. They’re the ones always up to something.”

  Sloane propped her hands on her hips. “I’ve always heard it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

  “I’m not that quiet.”

  “But you do fly under the radar.”

  “Not hard when my siblings have such big personalities.”

  “I feel as if I was just insulted.”

  Angel gently patted Sloane’s cheek. “Not at all. I like your big personality. And Ben’s approaching bearable now that he’s a married man.”

  Sloane paused her interrogation long enough to get all the campers and Julia settled in the bleachers. As usual, Julia was striking up instant friendships with the other kids, something their mother had noticed and pointed out as proof that there needed to be more grandchildren running around the Rocking Horse Ranch. Well, Neil and Ben were both married now, so Sloane figured the ball was in their procreation court. She sure wasn’t going to be a player in that game, at least not anytime soon. With her luck, never.

  When she sank onto the bleacher seat next to her sister, she resisted glancing toward the barn to see if Jason the steer wrestler was still visible. Yes, the man was wicked good-looking, and she was afraid Angel had noticed Sloane’s awareness of that fact.

  “So, spill. What were you talking to him about?”

  “Him?” Angel asked, all faux innocence.

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  “You mean the handsome cowboy who couldn’t take his eyes off you?”

  “You sound like Mom.”

  Angel shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”

  “Whatever. Maybe you should ask him out.”

  “Nah. Not my type.”

  “What is your type?”

  Angel leaned back against the empty bleacher behind them. “I don’t know because I haven’t met him.”

  Sure, Angel had a daughter, but that didn’t mean Julia’s father was the kind of guy Angel wanted to spend the rest of her life with. In fact, Sloane wasn’t sure that normally mild-mannered Angel wouldn’t coldcock Dave if she ever saw him again. If she didn’t, there was a long line of Hartleys willing to do it for her.

  “Listen,” Angel said. “All I did was invite him out to the ranch to talk to the kids some more about rodeoing. I saw how interested they were in what he was saying.”

  “You did what? Are you crazy? We don’t know the first thing about him. He could be a creep. Or have a rap sheet as long as my arm.”

  Angel turned partway toward Sloane. “Did it strike you that either of those things is true?”

  “How would I know? I barely spoke to the man.”

  “Well, then, you can cure that when he’s your camp’s guest speaker.”

  Sloane started to protest again but was interrupted by her younger sister.

  “You know I’d never do anything to put these kids, including my daughter, in danger. If it was just going to be us there, I wouldn’t have invited him. But Dad and the guys will be close by. Not that I think the two of us couldn’t take Jason down by ourselves.”

  “You got that right.” If anyone posed a threat to these kids, who already had enough to worry about in their young lives, she’d take them out. A boot to the kneecap could bring down the biggest man.

  Though her instinct told her Angel was right, that this Jason guy was fairly harmless. Except, perhaps, to her peace of mind. The moment she’d met his dove-gray gaze, she’d been thrown off-kilter. That wasn’t a normal state of being for her. She’d come into contact with plenty of handsome men before, so what was it about Jason the steer wrestler that felt different?

  Probably just that he’d seemed to pop up next to her out of thin air. She’d not exactly been startled, rather caught off guard. Just when she’d reined in her initial increased-pulse reaction to his looks, however, he’d gone and been nice to the kids. It was as if he was trying to increase his tally of “I’m an awesome guy” points as fast as he could, before she could even figure out who he was.

  No need to worry about it though. As long as he entertained the kids, she was cool with him talking to them. But it didn’t matter how good-looking or charming he might be, she wasn’t interested in a cowboy only in town for a weekend. They came and went. She didn’t blame them. It was how they made their living or followed their passion. But if she ever ended up serious about a guy—and with her dating history, she wasn’t even sure she wanted that—it wasn’t going to be someone living that sort of nomadic lifestyle.

  Her family had given her ro
ots, and rodeo cowboys like Jason Till were about as rooted as a tumbleweed.

  Copyright © 2017 by Trish Milburn

  ISBN-13: 9781488013324

  The Cowboy and the Cop

  Copyright © 2017 by Christine Wenger

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