A Cowgirl's Dream

Home > Other > A Cowgirl's Dream > Page 4
A Cowgirl's Dream Page 4

by Edith MacKenzie


  Senhor Eduardo clasped Frankie on the shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You have not been here long, Frankie, but I will say to you what I say to my own daughter. No man can trust that horse, and I won’t allow you to get hurt trying.” He smiled sadly. “I say that not to be mean, but I do not want anything to happen to you.” He let his hand drop. “Now, if I remember correctly, are you not collecting your friends today?”

  Frankie bounced excitedly off the fence. “Sure am. Thank you so much for letting them stay here. It’s going to be awesome having my Aussie support team here for the last week leading up to Need for Speed.”

  “Your family is my family, Frankie,” he said magnanimously. “Now, off you go.”

  As she walked off, Frankie couldn’t resist one last glance over her shoulder. The colt had now ambled off and was pawing at the ground, the dust rising about him in a cloud. With a grunt, he lowered himself and began to roll enthusiastically, kicking his legs in the air. After easing all of his various itches, he hauled himself back to his feet, shaking the dirt from his coat.

  Maybe Senhor Eduardo is right, she thought. No man can trust him. But he didn’t say anything about a woman!

  Frankie gave a little squeal of excitement as Deb and Megan made their way through the crowded arrivals lounge. The girls ran toward each other, colliding in a big and long-overdue group hug. Now, as Frankie cautiously pulled into the driveway, she was surprised to see several trucks parked up.

  “Thank bloody heck we survived that!” Deb threw a hand dramatically to her forehead. “I think this Gabi chick is pretty brave letting you drive her truck.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Ah, you drifted into oncoming traffic,” Megan pointed out.

  “Once. I did that once. If you guys are such experts, one of you can drive next time. It’s not as easy doing everything in reverse as you might think,” Frankie protested.

  “Personally, my favorite was how many times you put the windscreen wipers on when you wanted to indicate,” Deb teased.

  “Are you finished?” Frankie opened her palms toward them.

  “Oh, my. Who are they?” Megan asked in breathless admiration, looking to the porch.

  Frankie turned, suspicion already forming in her mind. As she had suspected, standing with one lean snugly-clad denim hip against the porch rail, beer in his hand, was Luciano. He glanced at Frankie, sending her his signature cocky Hollywood smile before returning to his conversation with Joao and Senhor Eduardo.

  “The older silver-haired gentleman is Gabi’s dad, Senhor Eduardo. The other two are some bull riders he knows,” she said dismissively.

  “I would like to get to know them, too,” said Deb, enjoying the view. She threw her arms around Megan and Frankie’s shoulders as they headed to the barn. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

  After introducing the girls to Gabi, Frankie left them to settle in and unpack while she went down to check up on Delila. She found the buckskin mare munching on a hay net in her stall. She gave a little nicker of recognition before returning back to her hay. Walking further down the barn, her feet led her to the last stall. Inside, the dark colt had pulled his hay out and was flicking it through the air. Frankie pulled an apple from her pocket.

  “Hey, big boy,” she called softly as he eyed her curiously.

  “I had hoped you were talking to me,” Luciano said from behind her.

  She jumped in surprise, causing the colt to give a startled snort and take a step back. Sighing in frustration, Frankie placed the apple on top of the stall door before turning around, her hands on her hips.

  “Do you make a habit of sneaking up on girls in barns?” she asked tartly.

  “Not so much sneaking up on girls in barns. But yes, much experience with girls, sneaking, and barns.” His smile was smug, and he shrugged his broad shoulders. He offered her one of the beers he was holding. “Have a drink with me.”

  For a moment, Frankie was dazzled by his powerful presence and forgot to breathe. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she took the proffered beer. “Sure. Does Senhor Eduardo know you are lurking about his barn?”

  “I used to live in the bunkhouse when I first moved here. Joao and I bunked together. That was when Gabriella still lived in the house, unfortunately for Joao.”

  Frankie looked at Luciano in surprise, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Joao has a thing for Gabi?”

  “Yes. He can ride tough bulls, but scared of talking to a girl.” Luciano shook his head in mock despair. “This I do not understand.”

  “I can imagine.” Frankie took a sip of her beer. “Did you find it hard to settle into the tour?”

  “Very tough.” Frankie was surprised by his candor. “I spoke no English, did not know how things work here. Senhor Eduardo helps all of us that come over. When he came, there was no one.”

  “He seems like a nice guy.”

  “What do you think about me?”

  Frankie spluttered on her beer, succumbing to a coughing fit as she attempted to breathe.

  “Frankie, are you not used to the liquor? I recall you having trouble drinking at the churrasco.” Luciano’s face was a picture of concern.

  “I can handle it just fine, I’ll have you know,” she snapped. “It’s just that, well, that was very direct.”

  “Is that not best? I would know what you think about me.” He gave her his best sexy smirk.

  Frankie made a show of giving him the once over. His jeans hung about his slim hips, the denim encasing a butt that was definitely perv-worthy. The V-neck T-shirt he wore was tight enough to make out the definition of his muscles and Frankie strongly suspected there was a six-pack hidden underneath. His biceps were defined, mute evidence of working on a ranch and riding bulls for a living.

  Frankie was momentarily distracted by the whisper of a thought that entered her head. What would it be like to be held by those arms? She skirted around the image that forced its way into her mind, fighting against the desire to succumb to the darkly compelling thought. His body was rugged, and power and confidence emanated from him. But it was his face that Frankie found herself dangerously affected by. It was the sheer force of his personality that made it so darkly magnetic. The strength of his character animatedly shone from his dark, gleaming eyes. Eyes that were currently fixed warmly on her.

  His sensuous lips drew back into his now familiar smile, and Frankie recognized herself being drawn in by his charm, aware of just how easy it would be to get entangled in it. She had an inkling that, just like a fly stuck in the spider’s web, most women probably only realized when it was too late to escape. Or maybe they didn’t want to escape after a while. She shook her head to clear her mind of that particular notion.

  Frankie hesitated. “I think you are a handsome man who knows he is a handsome man.”

  “So, you like me,” he stated confidently. He folded his arms over his chest, pulling his shirt tighter as he did.

  Frankie pulled her eyes away from his pecs. “I didn’t say that,” she denied hotly.

  He gave her a smug, knowing smile. “You do not have to. I can see how you look at me.”

  Frankie’s temper began to rise. “You are unbelievable.”

  “Thank you. I hear that a lot.”

  Her mouth dropped open at his arrogance and she shook her head. “I didn’t mean it in a good way. Look, good talk, let’s not rush to do this again.” She spun on her heels and walked back up the aisle.

  “I did not think you were the type to run away Frankie,” he called after her, laughter in his voice.

  “I’m not. I need to check on my friends.” Her strides were not slowing down.

  “Frankie?” His voice floated from behind her.

  “What?”

  “If I want something, I work hard till I get it,” he warned her.

  Frankie stopped, her hands balled by her side. How much more arrogant could he get? “Yeah, most guys do. It’s just that they lose interest once they g
et it. Goodnight, Luciano.” She didn’t look back as she walked up the bunkhouse stairs.

  Chapter 8

  It seemed surreal that they were loading the truck and horse trailer ready to haul Delila to the Need for Speed. They had decided to travel the day before to make sure the big buckskin mare had an opportunity to settle in and give good runs.

  “Hey Frankie, is your gear bag the only thing left that you want packed?” called Deb.

  “Yeah, mate.” Frankie gave Delila one final stroke with the brush. “You’re an old hand at how they run things here,” she whispered as she picked up a rug. She placed it over Delila. “Do you think you can look after this little Aussie chick?”

  Delila snorted as if in agreement. Frankie untied her lead rope and led her from her stall toward the trailer. The mare arched her neck in excitement as she stepped into the bright morning light.

  “Are you guys ready for us?” Butterflies began to flutter in Frankie’s belly, dancing wildly at the realization that hit hard. This was finally happening. They were headed to the Need for Speed World Championship.

  “Sure am,” called Gabi from the back of the truck. “Go ahead and load Delila up, and then we can get this show on the road.” Delila loaded like the old hand she was, and Megan helped Frankie lift the ramp.

  “How are you feeling?” Megan asked as she fastened the latch.

  “Nervous, excited, kinda numb at the same time, as weird as that sounds.”

  “Sounds about right.” Megan laughed. “I think I would be pooping my pants if I was in your boots.”

  “I packed spare jeans just to be safe.” Frankie joined in her laughter. “Hey, I just need to do something. Can you tell the others I’ll be a few minutes and then we can go?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Frankie walked down the laneway that led to the last paddock yard. The big colt ambled over, ears pricked, eyes excited by the commotion up at the barn.

  “Hey, big fella. I’m not going to be here for a few days, so I brought double the ration for you.”

  She held out two apples. He sniffed both as if pondering which one was the best before picking the chosen one up delicately. The fragrance of fresh apple mingled pleasantly with the odor of the horse as he chewed slowly. Frankie reached out and gave him a rub on his head, before offering up the second apple.

  “Wish me luck,” she said, leaving him to his snack.

  The drive to the venue seemed both endless and surprisingly swift. Frankie hugged herself tightly in the passenger side of Gabi’s truck, lost in the nervous, sick feeling that swamped her body. Around her, the girls’ excited chatter swirled, amplifying her sense of disconnection. The confines of the truck began to feel suffocating, and Frankie longed to escape it. After what felt like an eternity, Gabi found a park and pulled in. Without a word, Frankie opened her door and got out, walking around to the trailer and entering to check on Delila. The mare’s nostrils flared as the strange smells assailed her senses.

  “Easy girl,” crooned Frankie, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

  “You ready for us to drop the ramp?” called Deb.

  Frankie took a deep, steadying breath, her chest rising and falling. “Yep, good to go.”

  Delila emerged from the trailer as regal as any Queen. She swung her head around to assess the controlled chaos of the crowded parking lot before giving a loud snort. It was as if to say, this is this best you’ve got? Frankie admired the mare’s ready acceptance of the situation and heartily wished she could somehow channel it.

  “Delila has been allocated stall E21. Do you want to head over there, and we’ll bring the rest of her gear?” Gabi asked.

  “Sure.” Frankie reached into the trailer to grab her mare’s water bucket. “Meet you guys over there.” She set off, trying act like she belonged. She had not gone more than a yard or two before Megan’s voice whispered on the wind to her.

  “I don’t think I have ever seen her like this.”

  “It’s a step up for Frankie. She was a big fish in a little pond back home. Here, she is a minnow in the Atlantic.” Deb’s voice now. “I love that girl, but now she needs to figure out if she has what it takes to be a winner or not.”

  As Frankie and Delila were swallowed up by the large building, a final voice reached her ears—Gabi’s.

  “There’s a lot riding on it.”

  Frankie swallowed nervously at the Brazilian woman’s words. The final part sent her anxiety rocketing.

  “For everyone.”

  “Really?” Frankie groaned in frustration as the water splashed from the bucket she had just set down in the stall, soaking the leg of her jeans.

  Honestly, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe in the interest of expediency, she could do both at the same time? Thank gosh Delila had settled in happily, already munching on the hay net Gabi brought over. The same Gabi now popped her head over the stall and laughed at her drenched state.

  “You know they have showers here, right? No need to wash in a bucket of cold water.”

  “Very funny. I think you and Deb have been hanging out too much,” Frankie replied sourly before grinning at her. “Some people are graceful under pressure. I just turn into a klutz.”

  “I’ve noticed. Especially around a certain handsome bull rider,” teased Gabi.

  “I have no idea who you are talking about.”

  “Tall dark and handsome, nice arse, and a smile that promises he knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Still not ringing any bells.” Frankie shook her head in mock confusion.

  “Oh, Frankie, after all the girls that usually throw themselves at him, Luciano must wonder what to do with you.” Gabi’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Or maybe that’s the problem? You’re wondering what he would like to do with you.”

  “Gabi!” Frankie threw the lead rope she had been holding at the laughing Brazilian girl, chuckling as she ducked out of harm’s way. She gave Delila one final pat, promising her she would be back to check on her, and went in pursuit of her still chortling friend.

  Frankie stared at the droplets of condensation that slid down the side of her beer, colliding with each other in a race to the bottom. The night air had a distinct nip to it, a promise that fall would soon knock on summer’s door. Earlier, their neighbors had wandered over and introduced themselves. On one side were an Argentinian qualifier and to the other, an American finalist. Both had seemed friendly in an assessing kind of way, making Frankie even more nervous as she realized how competitive everyone was.

  The shrill ring of a phone jerked Frankie from her self-absorbed doldrums, her startled reflex causing her to splash her drink. Glancing around, she discovered it was Gabi’s and settled back into her camp chair.

  “Hey? Yeah, sure.” Gabi held it out to Frankie. “It’s for you.”

  “Huh?” Surprised, Frankie wiped her hand clean from any leftover beer residue and reached for the phone. “Hello?” Her stomach flipped as he spoke.

  “Hola, Frankie.” Luciano’s voice was deep. “I wished to call to give you luck.”

  “Thank you,” she blurted awkwardly, curious at the noise she could hear in the background. “Whereabouts are you?”

  “I am in Columbus, Ohio, tonight. And tomorrow, I will be in Greensboro, North Carolina.”

  “Geeze, that’s pretty full-on. I don’t know how you can do that,” she said in awe.

  “It is what we do if we want to be champions,” came his sage response.

  Frankie found herself responding to this intriguing, deeper side of Luciano. Not to mention that it was a little hot—a big, tough bull rider that is in touch with his emotions. It wasn’t something that Frankie was used to coming across. His words resonated with her.

  “Are you feeling confident?” he asked.

  “Let’s see. So far, I have splashed water all over myself, misjudged sitting down in a chair, and nearly walked into a barricade.”

  Luciano’s deep baritone laugh sent a pleas
ant warmth spiraling into her stomach. “Oh, Frankie, your nerves are bad?”

  “You could say that.” She glanced up at her friends who suddenly seemed engrossed in the night sky. She stood up and walked a small distance away from her eavesdropping companions. “Sorry, I just had to move away. The girls are just about to fall off their chairs trying to listen.”

  “They care about you. So, these nerves, do you feel it in your belly?”

  “Like I could spew more epically than in the Poltergeist movie,” she emphatically declared.

  “I do not get that reference, but I take it as yes?” he asked.

  “That’s a yes.” In the background, she could hear voices and the crackle of the announcer. “I should let you go.”

  “In a minute. I wish to speak to you. Take a deep breath and think about how you will ride. See it in your mind. Really ride it. It is important to breathe. Are you doing this?”

  Frankie closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Breathing, check.”

  “Frankie, remember a champion thinks they are champ before they win the title. They believe.”

  “Is that why bull riders are all so arrogant?” she teased.

  “If we did not think we could do it, it would be crazy to get on an angry bull, would it not?”

  “Mate, it’s bloody crazy no matter which way you look at it.”

  Once again, his abundant laughter warmed her through the phone. She heard muffled voices again, this time closer. “I will be there in a minute. Frankie, I have to go. Just remember, how to do what you Aussies say—she’ll be right, mate.”

  “Luciano, ride like a champion tonight and be safe, okay?” She felt oddly in tune with him.

  “I always do. But for you, tonight, I will be extra. Goodnight, Frankie.”

  “Goodnight, Luciano.” The phone line went dead, and Frankie was left with a remarkable sense of calm as she stared down at the phone. Maybe there was more to Luciano than just a sexy smile and a hot arse.

 

‹ Prev