A Cowgirl's Dream

by Edith MacKenzie

  A toasty warmness enveloped her as she stepped up into Luc’s Black Ops Truck, the fragrant aroma of coffee wafting through the cab. She leaned across and gave her cowboy a quick morning kiss, before settling back into her seat. He handed her a travel mug.

  “Here, Querida. I thought you might need this.”

  She gratefully accepted, the dark elixir evoking alertness in her otherwise befuddled state of mind. “Thanks, Luc. Are these things always so early?”

  “Most of the time, yes. This is the first shoot I have done that has not been with another bull rider. Maybe they think a woman will take longer to get ready for cameras?” he joked.

  Frankie almost sprayed coffee out her nose as she spluttered her indignation.

  “Easy, Frankie. I’m not saying that is what I think. But you never can tell with photoshoot people.” He displayed no genuine remorse for his teasing.

  “Luc, you’re not helping.” Her nerves forced themselves to the forefront of her mind. “I think I want to be sick.”

  Luciano swiftly pulled the truck over. Not before he put her window down, she sourly noted. “Querida, you have nothing to worry about. You are a beautiful woman.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Plus, I will be there. Did you know, if I did not become a bull rider, I would be a professional model?”

  Against Frankie’s inclination, she began to laugh. “Okay, Fabio. Let’s get going so you can show me how the camera loves you.”

  And boy did the camera love him, but not half as much as the hair and makeup people, or the stylist, or the photographer, for that matter. It had been a long day of posing and, unexpectedly for Frankie, waiting around. She sat glumly in the makeup chair as they changed her hair for the last look of the day. It would probably have gone faster if the hairstylist could stop drooling over Luciano with the makeup artist.

  “Look at those thighs.” Tash, the makeup artist, breathed in admiration.

  “He can wrap those things around my—” Thankfully, Doug’s—the makeup artist—comment was cut off by the stylist’s approach.

  “Frankie, this one is a little different. The outfit we have chosen for this is a softer, more romantic look. We think we should be able to time it right and get the sunset in the background. Bob will tell you exactly what he wants once you’re ready.”

  Frankie obediently went to change, careful not to smudge anything. Luciano’s eyes widened as he caught sight of her hesitantly walking toward him. Delicious warmth filled her body at the possessive gleam that flickered in his eyes.

  Bob, the photographer, gave her a nod of approval. “Now, in this one, I want to try for something different. We only have about two minutes, if that, to get these colors of the sunset. I want this to be more tender, more emotional,” he instructed. “If you can both stand over there, we can start.”

  Frankie stood stiffly beside Luc as directed, pondering how best to interpret Bob’s instructions. “I’m not sure exactly what you want.” She battled a twinge of anxious confusion.

  “Frankie, you are a woman, he is a man. You are here in a beautiful place, with a beautiful sunset. Just work with that a bit,” Bob encouraged.

  She felt Luc’s hand fit snuggly into the small of her back, before he bowed his head closer to hers. “Good, Luciano. Frankie, I need you to be more natural,” the photographer called. Luciano’s hand slid lower down her back until it had a firm hold on her arse. She looked up at him, a sparkling challenge in her eyes.

  “Excellent,” Bob said around his laughter. “Not what I had in mind, but original.”

  Luciano pulled Frankie in closer, his eyes devouring her face. “Querida, ignore them. There is no one here but you and I.” She could feel the warmth of his palms on her waist. “Relax and look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his, overwhelmed at what she saw. He lowered his head and kissed her tenderly as they stood silhouetted against the gloriously vibrant hues of red blended with oranges, purples, and crimsons.

  Frankie was only distantly aware of the clicking of Bob’s camera as he muttered his approval. When the kiss finally ended, it was with smug satisfaction that she saw the disgruntled looks leveled her way by Tash and Doug.

  Chapter 15

  Black clouds sprawled across the sky, billowing in from the west. In the distance, a low crackle of thunder rolled, a streak of hot silver splitting the sky.

  “Might get some rain,” Luc observed as they headed for home.

  In the passenger seat, Frankie was still reeling, intoxicated from Luciano’s bold tenderness at the photoshoot.

  “That didn’t end up too bad,” she mused, gently biting her full lower lip.

  “The rain?” he glanced at her questioningly.

  “The photoshoot. Everyone was so excited that I was doing it, but honestly, I was kinda dreading it.” She hugged herself absently. “I’m glad I did it.”

  “It was a good idea of mine to do this campaign then?”

  She looked at him flabbergasted, her brows shooting skyward. “What did you say?”

  “It was time for me to do another campaign for Black Angus, and I suggested that I might like to do one with you. Bryce liked it.” He glanced at Frankie. Finding no obvious signs of protest, he returned his focus to the road.

  “Oh,” Frankie said, a slight catch in her voice. “So, they didn’t want me?” She was gutted by his revelation.

  “Querida, you are their sponsored rider too. They wanted you. I just suggested a way to work together.” Frankie mulled his answer over, looking for a reason to find insult, but could find none.

  Outside, the tree branches swayed in the strengthening winds, surrendering their leaves without a fight. The truck rocked with each gust. On the far hill, a jagged bolt of white-hot lightning slashed the sky, the thunder seconds behind. Frankie jumped at the noise.

  “Thank gosh we’re nearly home,” she shouted, trying to be heard over the noise.

  Luciano captured her hand in his calm hold, his hand steady. “I will get us there safely, Frankie. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said soothingly.

  By now, the sky was dark and low with ominous black clouds, the wind continuing to howl. As they pulled into the ranch’s drive, a crack of lightning rent the air and, within seconds, the rolling boom of thunder reverberated directly overhead causing Frankie to shriek in alarm. Rain began to fall as if from buckets, cascading like waterfalls from heaven. The noise was deafening inside the truck and rain sheeted in front of them, drops hitting the vehicle as if they were bullets.

  As they approached the last couple of hundred yards to the barn, lightning blindingly illuminated the whole area, an almighty clap of thunder reverberating instantaneously. To Frankie’s horror, she watched as a horse bolted from the barn in a blind panic. Driven into a mad terror, it raced frantically toward the paddocks, attempting to escape the demons on its heels. Frankie gave a cry of fear as she recognized the horse as Delila.

  She leapt from the truck, her clothes immediately drenched as she ran after her horse. Rain blinded her eyes as she wildly looked around, endeavoring to locate the buckskin mare. She was only dimly aware of Luciano standing beside her in the downpour. Suddenly, he pointed frantically, fruitlessly yelling words she was helpless to hear. Giving up, he started to run toward the yards. Frankie followed, her progress made slippery by the rivers of water, mud threatening to suck off her boots. Her panicky breath rasped out of her as she battled onward.

  “No,” she whimpered in despair, as Luciano knelt down beside a mound that did not belong there. “No, no, no.”

  Delila raised her head as Frankie approached. Wire was wrapped around her hind legs, flesh stripped from her forelegs. Frankie kneeled.

  “Steady, pretty girl,” she crooned, looking at Luciano, the rain washing away her tears.

  “Frankie, you need to keep her still. I have wire cutters in the truck. I’ll be right back,” he yelled over the roar of the storm. Frankie was barely able to make his words out.

/>   It felt like an eternity for him to return and cut the wire from the mare’s legs. Even longer to persuade Delila to stand and then slowly and painfully limp, slipping and sliding through the mud toward the barn. It was only after the broken mare was safely back in her stall that Frankie allowed herself to fully assess the damage.

  Headlights shone through the rain and relief flooded through Frankie that her friends had returned safely from their own outing. Wild-eyed horror greeted the state of both Frankie and Luciano causing the girls to come running.

  “Bloody heck,” Megan uttered before turning and running for the first aid kit.

  Deb stepped inside the stall, assessing the situation. “Luciano, we will need towels and some buckets of water.” She looked to Frankie. “You okay, mate?” Frankie nodded mutely. “Gabi,” Deb called. “You need to get the vet out here, ASAP.”

  It was much, much later by the time the vet left and Frankie crumpled gratefully into Luciano’s arms. He’d remained with her the entire time, stoic in his support and assistance. Gabi paced beside them on the phone, agitatedly describing what had happened and seeking further expert advice.

  “Carlos says that we are to send through the x-rays when they do them, but at this stage, he agrees with their early diagnosis. With the muscle damage and severed tendons in both hind legs, he said we can work on making her paddock sound, but Delila will never compete again.” She looked sadly at Frankie. “I’m sorry, Frankie. She will never race again.” Gabi rubbed at her red eyes, smearing the tears on her face.

  Deb looked up from where she stood with Megan, drained from the evening’s effort. “Both Megan and I have experience with this type of injury at the stud, and we’re confident that, if we work with the vet, we can get her to be a sound broodmare.” Megan nodded in agreement.

  “Do you want us working with the vet from tonight or this Carlos?” Megan asked.

  “For now, we work with the vet from tonight. But we run all the results and treatments past Carlos,” Gabi answered, her voice rough with exhaustion. “Carlos is my brother. He’s an equine vet, but he’s in Kentucky doing some reproduction specialization training.”

  “At least she will live,” Frankie said from the safe haven of Luc’s arms. “She will hopefully have a long life of having future barrel racing babies.”

  All the friends nodded in agreement. “Here’s to Delila, the Affinity Ranch Stud head studbook broodmare,” Gabi said. She looked at Frankie forlornly. “I will have to call Black Angus tomorrow and let them know what happened. It will be a while before we hit the road again. We need to find a horse first.”

  “I have a horse,” Frankie interjected. “Sampson.”

  “Look, Frankie, I know you think he could be a champion. But you don’t know that yet. He’s very unpredictable. Maybe it’s best if we concentrate on getting you a going horse,” Gabi argued.

  “I think you should trust Frankie. If she thinks Sampson will make it, let her try,” Megan said, rising in defense of her friend. “How long before you can get him seasoned enough to make a competitive time?”

  Frankie tried not to get her hopes up as she considered. “He’s still rough, but he’s trying for me. Maybe a few more months at home and then haul to a few of the smaller events. The big thing will be how he handles the atmosphere.” She paused. “That is, if you’re happy with that plan as his owner.” She raised questioning eyes to Luciano.

  “We need to talk about this, Querida,” he said softly. Frankie’s heart dropped to her feet. “I do not think it is fair to either of you to put this pressure on Sampson.”

  Frankie blinked back the tears threatening to overflow. “I understand it is a chance,” she implored. “But I know I can do it.”

  Luc’s arms tightened around her. “Frankie, maybe you are right. If you are determined to do this, then I do not think I can do it as Sampson’s owner. I bought him because I wanted you to have the chance you dreamed of. Maybe tonight has just sped that up. I will sign him over to you.”

  “What? Really?” The tears that had threatened now flowed freely down Frankie’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You thank the man,” Deb instructed gruffly.

  Frankie turned in Luciano’s embrace. Behind her, she heard Deb quietly usher the others upstairs. “Thank you, Luc. I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”

  “I did not do this for repayment. I did this because it made you happy. You are happy, Frankie?” Worried, he took in her sobbing features.

  “Yes,” she sniffled.

  “Good. It was just hard to tell with all the tears.”

  “Maybe if you kiss me, the tears will stop,” she suggested, lifting her face up to his.

  “We can only try,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear.

  Chapter 16

  Delila walked stiffly across her stall to accept the pieces of fresh grass Frankie held out for her. They had confined the mare to stall rest for the last two weeks, and she was profoundly over it. Frankie didn’t have the heart to tell the stir-crazy horse that she still had at least another two months of it. Through the open doors at the end of the barn, she could make out Sampson digging up the dirt in readiness to roll. It figured, since she had only just finished giving him a wash at the end of his ride. Judging by all the wiggling and squirming, he had no intentions of cleanliness impeding a case of the itches.

  “You sure you want to stay here with this lot?” asked Gabi, plonking herself against the wall beside Frankie. “Barretos is like nothing else. It’s one heck of a party, and since Papai is still a big deal down there, we get to go to everything.” Her face was comical in her over-enthusiasm. “And Luciano can show you off. Everyone wins.” Gabi snapped her fingers as if she had just sealed the deal.

  Frankie watched Delila delicately lip the last blade of grass off her hand before rubbing the dirt from her fingers. “Maybe next year. It does sound like fun. But right now, my head isn’t in the right space to celebrate. I need to focus on getting Sampson going and ready to start hauling.” She kept her eyes on the mare as she made painfully slow progress to the water bucket. “Plus, I wouldn’t feel right leaving this one.”

  “Deb and Megan will still be here. They can look after her for the short time you will be gone.” Both girls had declined the trip due to still having limited funds since moving. At this rate, the Barretos trip next year was going to be epic.

  “I know, but I feel like I owe it to her to stay close to home until she is at least out of the stall,” explained Frankie. “I swear, all I hear from both you and Luc is Barretos.”

  “Well Luciano loves Barretos. He’s a celebrity back home. It’s not like here, Frankie. The bull riders that have come over here and made it to the PBR—they are famous in Brazil.”

  “And I’m sure he will still be famous there next year,” Frankie said. “Now, I need to rake the arena.”

  In Barretos…

  There was no other event in rodeo in the world that compared to Barretos. Energy sizzled around the grounds unlike any other event Luciano had ever competed in. Nothing could match it.

  It was also the feeling of the familiar with friends that he had known since he was a boy coming to catch up on old times. His papai and mae never missed the festival. And after it was over, it was always hard to make himself leave again and head back to the States. This time, it was as if part of him was still in the States.

  Frankie.

  Luciano looked around until he caught sight of his father sitting at a table nursing a drink. His progress was slow as fans wanting pictures stopped him. He smiled ruefully and gave a helpless little shrug as he looked to Papai, waiting patiently. Finally, he made it and gave his father a warm hug, slapping him on the back in greeting.

  Taking a seat, he looked the older man up and down approvingly. “Papai, I see Mae is still filling your bowl up for you.”

  Papai rubbed his belly, laughing. “It’s how I know how much your Mae loves me. And by eating it all, I sh
ow her how much I love her back.”

  “You both must love each other a lot then.” Luciano roared with laughter.

  His father rubbed his belly again, chortling. “Lots. But how are you feeling? Will this be your Barretos?”

  Luciano’s face grew grave, his eyes filled with steely determination. “This time, I feel in my bones, is my time.”

  Papai reached over and slapped his son on the shoulder in approval. “I believe you. There is something different about you. More focused.”

  “It is my time, Papai, for everything. You should see the ranch. I am putting in some new fencing now and fixing up the machinery shed. Frankie will need a new arena for training, too. And I’m feeling strong, Papai, riding well.” Steely resolve radiated from him as he spoke.

  “Mae and I cannot wait to see your ranch. And meet this Frankie?” His sentence ended with a questioning note in his voice.

  Luciano’s expression softened at the mention of her name. “Papai, you used to tell me that, one day, I would meet a woman, and all the other women would just fade into the background as if they never existed. That I would know”—he thumped his chest above his heart—“here.” A silly grin broke out over his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Now I know this to be true. There is only Frankie for me.”

  His father beamed his happy approval at him, once again thumping him on the arm. “I can’t wait to meet my future daughter-in-law. This calls for another drink.” He signaled a passing waiter.

  “Nothing for me, Papai. I need to start getting ready to ride.” Luciano moved to stand.