by T. J. Kline
Chapter Two
* * *
SYDNEY WAS STILL fuming as she sat on a prancing Valentino during the grand entry. As rodeo queen, now back in costume, she preceded the other riders into the arena, and Valentino quickly picked up on her turbulent emotions, which made him act more nervous than usual. At least they’d both gotten out some of their pent-up aggravation during her queen run. The procession finally filed out of the arena and waited along the arena fence line for the opening ceremonies to begin.
Sydney caught a glimpse of Scott riding by on a magnificent black-and-white paint gelding. He stopped at the arena gate, holding the American flag, waiting for the national anthem to cue his entrance. She noticed he’d changed into a long-sleeved white shirt and added a pair of red-and-blue chaps with silver fringe, accenting his slim hips and hugging his thighs. The shirt clung to his frame like a second skin, confirming his muscular upper body and emphasizing the broad shoulders she’d noticed earlier. He held himself as proud and erect in the saddle, but what captivated her most was his genuine smile and infectious laughter as he chatted with a child through the chain-link fence.
At the sound of the music, the paint’s ears twitched. Scott tapped the gelding’s ribs lightly with his heels and walked into the arena. As the anthem progressed, he cued the horse for gradual speed until he was charging around the arena. The horse’s long black mane flowed backwards like silk as the flag snapped. Scott looked as majestic and regal as a knight going into battle. Suddenly he turned sharply into the center of the arena and slid to a stop as the music played its last strains. Once the music had faded and the announcer had welcomed everyone to the rodeo, he took the gelding for a final lap. The paint’s body and neck stretched out and his ears lay back as he flew around the arena with Scott, who rode as if he and the horse were one.
Sydney watched in awe, not only of his riding abilities, which made her question her earlier challenge to him, but of the picture he presented in the opening ceremony. The crowd’s hearts had been stirred with pride and he’d raised their excitement for the coming events to a roar in mere minutes.
“It’s a beautiful opening, don’t you think?”
Sydney turned, startled, to see a man in his mid-fifties beside her. She immediately noticed the Findley Brothers’ rodeo tack as he flashed her the kindest, most grandfatherly smile she could have imagined.
“Great run, Scott,” he hollered as Scott left the arena amid billowing clouds of dust. Turning his attention back to Sydney, he glanced at the rhinestone crown on her hat. “I hope I’m right in assuming that you’re the new queen? The name’s Mike Findley.”
Smiling, Sydney shook his proffered hand, “I’m Sydney Thomas. I’ve heard great things about you. Chris Greenly and my brother chatted with you earlier this morning while I was competing.”
“I remember. Your brother’s a calf roper, right? Young guy?” Sydney nodded. Her brother had definitely been bitten by the rodeo bug early. At only nineteen, he was already in the top twenty standings nationally in his event.
“And who doesn’t know the Greenly boys-?” Mike laughed. He jerked his chin in Scott’s direction. “Have you met Scott Chandler yet? He’s my arena director.”
“I guess you could say that.”
She was surprised when Mike laughed out loud. “Yeah, I guess Scott does kinda have an attitude problem when it comes to rodeo queens. Don’t understand it myself. I never pass up a chance to be in the company of a pretty lady, especially if she can ride well.”
“Attitude might be a bit of an understatement.” Sydney smiled at the older man. “So, you’ve known him for a while, then?”
“He’s worked with me since he could pick up a rope and been on the road with me since he was fourteen. His parents were my partners. I love him like he was one of my own.”
Sydney made a mental note to keep her criticisms about Scott Chandler to herself when Mike Findley was around. Her smile faltered when she saw the subject of their conversation approaching.
“Hey Mike, everything ready at this end for the first event?”
“It’s all under control.”
Scott flashed Sydney a mischievous smile. Before she could find out what he had planned, she cued Valentino to back up. “I’d better get the first sponsor flag. It was great to—”
“The princess—Alicia, I think?—She’s already down there with it,” Scott interrupted.
Sydney flashed him a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for anything going wrong.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she turned Valentino to leave only to be stopped by his deep-timbre laughter. She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Something funny?”
“Definitely,” Scott replied, still laughing.
Sydney could see that Mike barely contained his smile while he pretended to be intently inspecting his rope. Her attempt at charming condescension wasn’t having the effect she hoped for, and she felt her shoulders tense in irritation, wondering if there were any possibility of besting him in this instance.
“Besides,” he added. “Someone needs to be down here to return cattle for the next event.”
He was right, but Sydney knew that she couldn’t stay around him without her nerves becoming strung tight, which in turn would aggravate Valentino. She scanned the arena, looking for any excuse, and saw Chris with her parents near the gate.
Turning toward Mike, she smiled genuinely. “It was so good to meet you. I hope we can talk more later.”
“You can count on it.”
Mike’s chuckle followed her as she pivoted Valentino and broke the colt into a jog to meet her parents at the fence. She could feel herself relaxing with every step that took her further from Scott Chandler.
SYDNEY HAD NO more left earshot when Mike turned on him, his disappointment apparent. “The way you’re treating that girl isn’t right, Scott.”
“What?” Even Scott didn’t believe the innocence he tried to portray.
“She hasn’t done anything but exactly what you’ve asked. Jake told me what happened earlier.” Scott shrugged. “Have you seen that stallion she’s riding? Her brother told me she broke and trained him. She’s obviously talented.” Mike eyed Scott.
“That girl happens to have a very sharp tongue. Just because she has you fooled doesn’t mean I have to play her games.”
Mike slapped his rope against his thigh absently. “You know, Scott, not every rodeo queen is like Liz.”
“Right,” Scott scoffed. “I haven’t met one yet who isn’t like Liz.”
Mike looked to his right, where Sydney sat astride Valentino at the fence with her parents as they handed her a bottle of water. “Yes, you have. You’re just too stubborn to see it.”
AS SCOTT WATCHED the rodeo clown beckon Sydney into the arena, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread on his mouth. He’d seen the prank hundreds of times before and wondered how this smart-mouth queen was going to react. The clown explained to the crowd that he would jump from the mini trampoline he was dragging into the arena and do a flip over his beautiful assistant while she swung a broom over her head. He would then pluck it from her hands and land on the other side of her. Scott watched him pull a well-worn bandana from his back pocket and shake it out.
“You don’t mind if we blindfold you, do you?”
Scott could see the apprehension in her eyes, but the smile never slipped. “Of course not.”
She held the blindfold to her eyes as the clown tied it just below the back of her cowboy hat. “You can’t see anything?”
“Not a thing,” she assured him.
Scott watched as the clown led her into the center of the arena, appreciating the sway of her rear as she made her way. The clown handed her the broom and helped her raise it overhead, adjusting her position several times to make sure her hands were well above her head. Scott tried to ignore the pleasure centering below his belt buckle as her back arched and her breasts pressed against the front of her vest. Get a hold of yourself. She’s a b
uckle bunny, just like the rest of them.
The clown bounced on the trampoline a few times, calling out instructions for Sydney to make sure that she continued to swing the broom in circles over her head. As he motioned the crowd to stay quiet, he pulled the trampoline from the arena, leaving Sydney alone in the center, twirling the broom. Minutes passed and a few chuckles from the crowd began to sound. The clown called out for her to continue, assuring her it would only be a moment longer. Scott saw her tilt her head, and he wondered if she wasn’t growing suspicious.
“What do you think, ladies and gentlemen? Should we turn a bull loose in the arena so that our queen might leave sometime tonight?” The clown stood at the far end of the arena, rousing the crowd into full uproarious laughter. Sydney dropped arms to her sides and pulled the bandana from her eyes. As she looked around the arena, she could see she’d been duped.
Scott waited to see the fury rise in her eyes, wondering if she would be able to hide it as few had. With the bandana hanging around her neck, her full lips spread into a broad smile and she laughed out loud, surprising him. Brandishing the broom, she chased the clown, to the delight of the crowd. When he finally allowed her to catch him, he gave her a hug and whispered in her ear. Sydney turned back toward the crowd and waved to them, exiting the arena to the applause of the crowd.
Scott brushed away the incomprehension of her initial response, impressed by her composure. “Playing to the crowd,” he muttered under his breath, certain that her reaction when she was out of the arena would be a tirade like every other queen.
Usually the clown used spectators because they loved being selected to take part in the rodeo, but in the few instances he chose to use rodeo queens, they always reacted the same way: embarrassment-fueled outrage accompanied by tears and screeching complaints. He wasn’t sure why he’d suggested they play the prank on Sydney. Sure, he’d wanted to take her down a peg or two, but even now he could feel excitement churning in his gut, anticipating her anger, and wondered if he wasn’t enjoying their verbal sparring too much for his own good.
He watched her, waiting for the good-natured smile to fade once the crowd could no longer see her. Instead, she nudged the clown playfully and suggested they repeat the prank on a friend. Scott narrowed his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders as he waited for her to unleash some sort of annoyance. The clown headed back into the arena to finish his act as Sydney mounted her horse. Wait for it . . .
She simply shook her head, her cheeks tingeing pink, as a cowboy at the gate teased her about the prank and she laughed with him. There was no anger or resentment, only a tantalizing playfulness, even at her own expense. He clenched his jaw, irritated that she hadn’t reacted the way he’d expected. She was shallow; they all were. For some reason, the fact that she didn’t act like the other one-dimensional girls that abounded behind the chutes bothered him. She might have fooled everyone else, but not him.
SYDNEY WATCHED AS the rodeo clown finished his act, the announcer teasing him from the loudspeaker. Usually she loved everything about the rodeos: the dust; the noise of the cattle loading into the chutes; the smell of leather, hay, and horses. But she couldn’t wait for this one to be over. Scott had already been on her case twice about the way she worked the cattle, and the rodeo wasn’t even half over yet. When he told her she was too slow on the flag runs, her temper had gotten the best of her, and she had allowed Valentino to slide to a stop, spraying him with dirt clods from the arena. She only wished she’d done it after they’d soaked the arena to keep the dust at bay. A mud bath might have done him some good.
She almost giggled at the thought and made her way into the arena as the clown gathered the last of his props and the announcer called for the steer wrestling. She looked behind her to make sure Alicia was ready, only to see Scott unceremoniously follow her inside and position himself in the far corner. She glanced over at Alicia, still by the gate, who just shrugged in confusion. Great, Sydney thought, trying to ignore Scott’s glare, I’m running cattle with the tyrant.
Sydney watched as the first steer wrestler settled his horse into the box. As the steer burst from the chute, the rider reined his horse to the steer’s left side. With a partner keeping the animal straight, the cowboy dove, head first. Sliding his arms around the horns and cradling the steer’s head between his arm and ribcage, the cowboy angled the animal’s head just enough for the momentum to carry both of them to the ground together. Sydney eased Valentino closer. When the cowboy let the steer up at the buzzer, she would be there to guide it back to the pen. The animal jumped up as the steer wrestler let loose and Sydney followed closely behind, moving to the right or left to direct the steer. Within seconds he was in his pen calmly munching on grass. Scott rode up beside her before she could make her way back toward her corner.
“Out,” he ordered, and he rode through the arena gate ahead of her, expecting her to follow. “Mark, Alicia, go take care of those cattle,” Scott barked.
Sydney saw confusion and a bit of worry for her friend in Alicia’s eyes as she went through the gate. Whatever Scott was mad about now, they both knew Alicia still had a job to do in the arena. Sydney followed Scott outside the arena gates toward the trucks.
“What now?” she asked from behind his horse.
He shook his head, not even giving her the courtesy of a backward glance. “Not here. Where’s your trailer?”
“Over here.” Scott followed as Sydney led him toward her pickup. In the few minutes it took to reach her trailer, Sydney allowed her temper to grow into a burning rage. Scott had been critical of every move she made and she’d done a great job for him today. She wasn’t his whipping post, and she refused to take any more, even if it meant losing the exposure for her training abilities that she hoped for.
SCOTT REMAINED SILENT as Sydney dismounted and clipped the lead rope on her horse. He followed suit and tied his paint gelding with the lead rope already attached to the trailer beside hers. He stepped back as she spun, her golden eyes blazing, and forgot what he’d been about to say. It only took a glance to realize that she was ready for a fight. If that’s what she wants, Scott reasoned, he was up for it.
“So, what was it this time?” Sydney stepped right up to him and stood toe-to-toe, even though he had a good six inches on her. “Wait, let me guess. I followed too closely behind that steer?”
“Actually, you were too far behind.” Scott was careful to keep his voice even and calm. Her anger actually diffused his own irritation at having to be in such close proximity to her all day.
“Oh, really?” She sounded doubtful. “Is there anything else?” He could tell she was fuming.
“No, that’s not all. Now look—” he began.
“No, you look,” Sydney raged, and he briefly wondered if he hadn’t been unfair to her. He squashed the thought. “I’ve been working my butt off for you today and you know it.”
Realizing he’d pushed her too far, Scott knew he needed to diffuse the situation before everyone witnessed their argument. Fighting with her wasn’t going to expose her for the fraud he knew she was. But if he could get her to let her guard down, he could prove he was right.
Scott leaned over her shoulder, looking behind her, and gave her his most charming smile. “Nope,” he drawled, “It’s still there. Matter of fact, it’s kinda nice. Would be a shame to lose it.”
Sydney continued, glaring at him. “Nothing has gone wrong, nothing has stalled the performance. So what, exactly, is your problem with me?”
“You really want to know?” He knew he wasn’t being fair to lump her in the same category as Liz. Even Mike had said so, but he just couldn’t bring himself to assume that she might be different.
“Yes,” she emphatically replied. “I’ve had people who didn’t like me or get along, but never this kind of open hostility for no apparent reason.”
“I know your type.”
“Excuse me?”
“I have to admit that you can ride better than most and you mig
ht not mind getting a little dirty,” he continued. “But you’re just like all of the rest of them.”
“You mean rodeo queens.” She wasn’t asking so he didn’t feel the need to answer. “And just what are the rest of us like?”
Scott leaned back against the side of her truck and cross his arms. “Spoiled little prom queens with buckles and cowboy hats. You think you can just gather your toys, break them, and then toss them aside for new ones.” She stared at him, speechless. He could see the frustration in her flushed cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the truck. “Truth hurt?”
“I don’t have to take this from you or anyone else.” She turned back toward her colt. “Alicia can stay and help out, but I’ll just get out of your sight since I disgust you so much.”
Scott couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone look this beautiful angry, and he hated that even knowing what she was like—what they were all like—he could still be so attracted to her. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her blazing golden eyes as sparks flew between them and she faced him again. He wanted to kiss her smart mouth. His palms itched to be buried in her hair, and he clenched them into fists to keep from taking her by the shoulders. It was a primal desire, and he wondered what she would do if he gave in to it.
“Look, I apologized for my part this morning. Maybe I should have held my temper a little better,” she admitted. “But you don’t even know me.”
Scott thought about what she said for a moment before pushing off the back of her truck. An idea began to take shape in his mind. “You’re right.”