The Bull Rider's Secret

by Marin Thomas

  Missed her subtle smiles. The scent of her shampoo. The soft look in her eyes when she stared at her son. He even missed her take-charge attitude and stubborn pride. He was fooling himself if he believed he’d escaped the Wild Rose before Kat had left her mark on him.

  Kat was the perfect woman to help him put his life back on track, but Brody knew in his gut he couldn’t live up to her high expectations and he refused to join the group of men who’d already disappointed her.

  “She looks mad,” Ricky said.

  Kat’s pinched expression didn’t bode well for the kid. Or Brody.

  “Stevie wanted me to go fishing with her and her dad next weekend. Guess that’s out.”

  Brody fought a grin. “The only fishing you’ll most likely do in the near future will be scooping moss from the horse troughs.”

  “I was trying to help.”

  “I know, son, but—” Brody held his breath. The word son had just slipped out. Get a grip before you do something stupid like pretend Kat and Ricky are yours to worry about. “Remember something while your mom’s yelling at you—she loves you and you’re the most important person in her life. If anything happened to you she’d never forgive herself.” Believe me, kid, I know all about not being able to forgive yourself.

  Ricky unfolded his long legs and met his mother halfway. They stared at one another for a second, then Kat opened her arms and Ricky stepped into her hug.

  Brody’s throat tightened at the sight of the pair. The hug lasted a good long while then Kat’s pointer finger went into action. Brody heard bits and pieces of the scolding Ricky received, and Kat’s voice broke twice during the reprimand—behind her anger was an intense relief that no harm had befallen her son.

  Kat’s tirade ended abruptly. She hugged Ricky one more time then the teen saluted Brody before returning to the truck. Kat remained where she was and a stare-down ensued.

  Brody waited, not sure what she expected from him. When he’d left the ranch he’d never intended to see Kat again. Giving in first, she broke eye contact and continued in his direction. She stopped a few feet from the table.

  “Brody.”

  “Kat.”

  She perched her hands on her hips as if ready to do battle, but the longing in her stare caught Brody by surprise. He held her gaze, not caring if his eyes mirrored her emotions. “Thank you for looking after Ricky until I could get here.”

  “I’m glad he found me.” Brody gripped the edge of the table to keep from leaving his seat and sweeping Kat into his arms. He wanted to kiss her so damned bad.

  “You didn’t say goodbye.” The lashes of her pretty brown eyes fluttered. He prayed she wasn’t blinking back tears.

  “Like I told Ricky, I hate goodbyes.”

  “I deserved a goodbye, Brody.”

  You deserved more than a goodbye. “I was afraid.”

  She toed a piece of gravel with her boot heel. “Afraid of what?”

  Afraid of trying to be the kind of man you need and deserve. “I’m not good enough for you, Kat.”

  Her eyes widened. “Who said I was looking for a long-term relationship? I said you could leave anytime no hard feelings, but you led me to believe you were helping out until the Bakers returned.”

  Kat’s words were more painful than his stinging calf muscle. Had he misjudged her feelings for him? She cared for him—maybe even a lot—but her words had made it clear she didn’t love him.

  “I’m a grown woman who’s been on my own for a long time. I’m raising my son without the help of his father. And I’ve supported myself and Ricky most of my adult life. I don’t need a man.” She narrowed her eyes. “Especially one I can’t trust.”

  Brody left his seat at the picnic table and closed the distance between them.

  There was no way he could send Kat and Ricky back to the Wild Rose alone. He couldn’t take the chance that Clyde or Roger would…If something happened to…There was no room left in his conscience for more guilt.

  Now that he knew where he stood with Kat—she didn’t need or want anything more from him than his help with ranch chores—he could survive another week or two in her company before moving on. Couldn’t he? “I’ll follow you and Ricky back to the ranch.”

  “I…” Kat stared into space, chin trembling. “Fine.” She spun on her boot heels and marched to the truck.

  Brody crossed the lot to his vehicle. For a while longer he’d pretend he was part of a family. The moment the Bakers returned, he’d leave the area—this time for good. And with no regrets.

  LATE THURSDAY AFTERNOON, Brody watched Kat out of the corner of his eye. He was having a heck of a time avoiding her since he’d returned to the ranch six days ago. He’d kept conversation to a minimum, choosing to spend his free time with Ricky. He made sure he turned out the lights in the trailer promptly at ten each night then he’d lie in bed praying Kat would knock on the door. Praying she wouldn’t.

  He worked himself to the bone during the day but his nights remained sleepless. He wanted Kat—wanted the closeness he’d felt with her when they’d made love. He was a big boy who’d been knocked around by life in big ways, yet his need for Kat was more than physical—she soothed his soul.

  Kat moved sideways, offering Brody a better view of her curvy backside. She prodded Tiger’s hoof, muttering quietly beneath her breath. Brody hated that Kat had made it easy for him to keep to himself. In her quiet, determined way she gave him a list of chores each day then left him alone. As much as Brody believed it was best, he wished Kat would send him a signal that she was ready to forgive and forget, because he ached to put an end to this yearning inside him.

  Kat glanced up and their gazes clashed. For an instant her eyes darkened—the same heated look she’d given him the night they’d made love. The sizzle died a quick death when her expression sobered. She wiped her sweating brow with the sleeve of her shirt.

  “Where’s Ricky?” The last time Brody had seen the kid he’d been throwing a stick to Spot in the ranch yard.

  “He went fishing with Stevie,” she said.

  “What happened to being grounded the rest of the summer?”

  “What can I say?” She laughed, but the sound lacked humor. “I suck at parenting.”

  “Nah, you have a soft heart is all.” And you take in strays like me. “How’d he get to Stevie’s?”

  “He rode his dirt bike.” She held up a hand. “I made him wear a helmet.”

  Brody and Kat were all alone. “Have you heard from Wes today?”

  “Nope. No news is good news.”

  The afternoon following the Boerne rodeo, Brody had saddled up a horse and ridden the perimeter of the property, searching for signs that Clyde and Roger were up to their old tricks. He’d found nothing amiss. Two nights ago he’d driven out to Dicky’s Roadhouse and had asked the bartender if the ranch hands had stopped in for a beer lately—the man couldn’t remember.

  “After I fill the feed bins I’ll take a ride around the property.”

  “That would be great, thanks.” Kat’s stiff posture relaxed. “I’ve got a horse to shoe after I finish with Tiger.”

  Brody’s gaze clung to Kat’s. What could one kiss hurt if it didn’t lead anywhere? Move, Brody. Move. He did—only in the wrong direction. He stepped forward, lowered his head and he saw Kat’s lips part as if in invitation… The slamming of a truck door shocked Brody back to his senses and he stepped away from Kat.

  Wes strolled into the barn. “We got trouble. The stream’s dammed up in the north pasture and the waters flooding the—”

  “Oh, no, not the hay,” Kat said.

  There were three separate pastures used to grow organic hay at the Wild Rose. Each section of land was planted on a rotational system so there was always freshly cut hay available for sale. The hay in the north pasture wouldn’t be ready to harvest until the end of next month, which meant a flood at this stage of the growing process would result in the loss of the crop.

  “What do you want me to do,
Kat?” Brody said.

  “Grab the handsaw and bring a set of chains. Wes, you round up the horses near the stream and put them in another pasture.”

  “Already did that,” Wes said.

  “Good. In case this wasn’t our friend Mr. Beaver that caused the logjam, keep your eyes peeled for trouble elsewhere on the ranch.”

  “Will do.”

  Kat hurried through the barn. “We’ll take your truck, Brody. It’s got a bigger engine if we need to move large branches. I’m heading up to the cabin to leave Ricky a note.”

  BRODY DROVE IN SILENCE along a service road that cut through the horse pastures. The tension in the truck grated on his nerves and he strangled the steering wheel, wondering what had gotten into him a few moments ago. He never should have tried to kiss Kat, but he’d caved in to the temptation that had eaten at him the past week.

  Maybe he should apologize.

  You’ll just make it worse.

  Before Brody decided what to do, they arrived at the stream. He whistled low between his teeth. The hay field had turned into a pond. Flashing lights caught his attention in the rearview mirror. A patrol car stopped behind Brody’s truck. “The sheriff’s here.”

  “I called him.” Kat hopped out of the front seat and Brody followed. “Sheriff Conrad, this is Brody Murphy. He’s the man I told you about who’s been helping out at the ranch.”

  Brody shook the sheriff’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  The sheriff studied Brody. “Heard you were from Montana.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What brought you down here to Texas?”

  “Brody’s a bull rider,” Kat said.

  “That explains it. We got rodeos every weekend in this great state.”

  “Those tree limbs—” Brody pointed to the pile of debris across the stream “—were strategically arranged to force the water over the banks and into the field.”

  “I can see that for myself, young man.” Sheriff Conrad shielded his eyes from the sun. “Yep. That sure don’t look like any beaver jam I’ve ever seen.”

  “Wait here.” Brody waded into the water, stopping in the middle of the streambed. “I’ll be damned.”

  “What do you see?” the sheriff asked.

  “Five maybe six hay bales at the bottom of the stream.” Beavers didn’t sneak into storage barns and drag off sixty-pound hay bales. Brody waded toward the pile. “The branches are clean-cut.” He studied the stand of trees across the pasture. The tree branches appeared undisturbed. The branches had been sawed off a tree elsewhere and hauled into the pasture.

  “Clyde and Roger did this,” Kat said, as Brody made his way back to dry land.

  “You sure you want to accuse them of sabotaging their former employer’s property?” Sheriff Conrad asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Kat walked along the mushy stream bank, shaking her head.

  “Did you tell Sheriff Conrad about the fire and the horses getting free?” If Kat wouldn’t, Brody would.

  “Kat told me Wes discovered a pile of smoldering hay after the field had been cut and she did mention the horses that got loose on the road,” Sheriff Conrad said.

  Brody was happy Kat had finally taken his advice and informed the authorities. “I’d bet my life that the same culprits are responsible for this mess.”

  “I’ll need to take pictures before you clean this mess up.” The sheriff returned to his patrol car and retrieved a camera, then snapped a few photos.

  “You’ll order your deputies to be on the lookout for Clyde and Roger, right?” Brody said when the sheriff put the camera away.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions about those men. Ranch hands are known to play a few pranks when they’ve been wronged.”

  “They weren’t wronged. Kat acted well within the bounds of her authority,” Brody said. “I’ve worked as a ranch hand my entire adult life. You follow orders or you get fired. Clyde and Roger not only ignored Kat’s authority they made personal threats against her and her son.”

  The sheriff faced Kat. “Is there more going on than what you reported the other week?”

  “Clyde and Roger approached me in the barn and demanded their jobs back. I refused, so they threatened me and Ricky.”

  “What kind of threat?” the sheriff asked.

  “They hinted that my son or I might suffer an unfortunate accident.”

  The sheriff scowled. “All right then. I’ll have my deputies bring Clyde and Roger in for questioning if they run across the men. In the meantime be careful and report anything unusual as soon as it happens.” The sheriff got into his patrol car and drove off.

  “Where do we begin?” Kat asked.

  “With the big limb on top of the pile. I’ll grab the chains and the winch hook.” Brody took one end of the chain and waded into the stream then wrapped it around the thickest part of the limb. He dragged the heavy chain back through the water and to his truck where he clamped the ends together with a winch hook, then secured the chain to the trailer hitch.

  “Watch out.” Brody stuck his foot inside the cab and pressed the gas pedal. The limb slid sideways, but didn’t break free from the pile.

  “Must be caught. See if you can wiggle it loose, Kat, then I’ll try again.”

  Kat waded into the stream, then called over her shoulder, “The end of the limb is stuck in the mud.”

  “Can you move the chain lower?” Brody asked.

  “I’ll try.”

  While Kat did as he asked, Brody waited for her signal. She raised her arm and he pressed the gas pedal. The truck tires spun in the mud. He checked the rearview mirror. Kat moved farther into the creek, the water rising to her chest. She shoved her shoulder against the limb and he pressed on the gas. The truck lurched forward. Success!

  He put the truck into Park and hopped out. “We did—” Where was she? Panic swept through Brody as his eyes scanned the stream. Had Kat been knocked unconscious by the limb when it broke free? He ran into the creek, the sandy bottom sucking at his boot heels, slowing his progress. “Kaaat!”

  Aeons passed before he reached the debris pile. He shoved, pushed and clawed at the branches, searching for Kat’s red shirt. He swept his arm through the water and his fingers tangled with her hair. He dived under, grabbed Kat around her middle and tugged hard until her head cleared the surface.

  “Foot’s stuck!” she gasped, before her head disappeared beneath the water.

  Brody dived under, skimming his hands down her leg to where her boot was buried deep in the muck. The massive branch they’d moved off the pile must have left a hole in the streambed and Kat’s foot had been sucked into it. Lungs burning, he scooped sand away from her boot, but sediment immediately filled in the hole.

  Needing air, he surfaced, bringing Kat with him.

  “My foot’s sinking deeper,” Kat gasped, her head slipping below the water.

  Brody lifted her body so her chin cleared the water’s surface. “Your foot has to come out of the boot.”

  “I can’t. There’s mud inside.”

  Brody went under again and grasped Kat’s calf. He twisted and pulled, knowing his fingers would leave bruises on her skin. Her foot gave a little and Brody yanked harder. Finally, her foot slid free of the boot. He set his hand against her fanny and shoved her to the surface, the action causing him to swallow water.

  He surfaced, coughing and sputtering, but was more concerned about Kat. She clung to a tree branch, gasping for air. Brody rubbed her back then rested his forehead on her shoulder. Thank God Kat was okay.

  “How’s your foot?” he asked.

  “It’s numb.” She leaned into him. “I could have…” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Shh…” He hugged her tight. “You’re okay. C’mon. Let’s get out of the water.”

  Kat leaned heavily against Brody as he guided her to dry land. When they reached the bank, they both collapsed.

  Brody lay on his back staring at the sky, his heart thundering, his hands shaking. He�
��d almost lost Kat. For an instant when she’d disappeared from sight, Angel’s face had popped into his mind and an all-consuming panic had taken his body prisoner.

  Not again. Not again.

  The thought of losing another person he loved had spurred him forward.

  Dear God. Had he just admitted that he loved Kat? He rolled his head to the side and stared at her profile. Chest heaving, eyes closed, wet hair plastered to her face, Kat was…beautiful and alive. His throat tightened and he struggled to draw in a steadying breath. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t love another person more than life only to lose them because he hadn’t protected them. He should have never asked Kat to stay in the stream and loosen the branch while he drove the truck. Kat was lucky the water hadn’t been deeper, or the limb hadn’t fallen and crushed her foot, the pain rendering her unconscious.

  Because of him Kat could have drowned.

  Because of him Ricky might have lost his mother.

  The ache was sharp and biting and he cursed himself. Way back in March he should have driven straight to Drew’s ranch as he’d planned and not stopped in Bandera. Not gone to the festival. Not teamed up with Ricky in the hog-catching contest. He choked on the knot in his throat. Thinking about never having met Kat was almost as painful as having to let her go.

  No matter that Kat was the first woman since Angel’s death who made him want to stop running, today was a wake-up call—he was no good for Kat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Brody got to his knees and shoved Kat’s wet pant leg up. Carefully he peeled her sock off. “Your ankle’s puffy.” Marks from his fingers marred her calf. “Let’s get you warm.” He scooped Kat’s shivering body into his arms and set her in the truck, then started the ignition and flipped on the heater.

  “I’m going to adjust the chain around the large limb. I’ll signal when I’m ready for you to hit the gas.”