A Saddle Made For Two
A Saddle Made For Two
Roxann Delaney
JUST ONE KISS…Cowboys! Ellie Warren had met enough arrogant men on the rodeo circuit to last her ten lifetimes. She had plans–and they didn't include a hard-bodied, blue-eyed distraction named Chace Brannigan. But with just one kiss from the bronc-riding champion, Ellie knew her lonely heart threatened her neatly laid plans….As Ellie slipped from his protective embrace, Chace had an overwhelming feeling of needs aching to be fulfilled. But he had promises to keep, and a woman had no place in them. Yet something about Ellie's solitary goals made him long for things unspoken. Perhaps together they could design a saddle made for two…?
“Are you going to be my lifelong bodyguard?”
Chace turned Ellie to face him. Now that she brought up the idea, he wasn’t sure he’d mind keeping an eye on her. It was crazy, but he couldn’t deny it. It didn’t mean he wanted to make any kind of commitment or declare his undying love, but the thought of being with her felt…right.
“For this trip, I’m responsible for you.”
In the dim light, he couldn’t see her face clearly. The silence surrounded them, and he could have sworn he heard her heart beating. Or was that his own, racing in his ears? He pressed her hand to his chest and drew her close.
“Chace,” she said on a whispered breath.
It was then he knew who he should be protecting her from.
Dear Reader,
I hope the long hot summer puts you in the mood for romance—Silhouette Romance, that is! Because we’ve got a month chock-full of exciting stories. And be sure to check out just how Silhouette can make you a star!
Elizabeth Harbison returns with her CINDERELLA BRIDES miniseries. In His Secret Heir, an English earl discovers the American student he’d once known had left with more than his heart…. And Teresa Southwick’s Crazy for Lovin’You begins a new series set in DESTINY, TEXAS. Filled with emotion, romance and a touch of intrigue, these stories are sure to captivate you!
Cara Colter’s THE WEDDING LEGACY begins with Husband by Inheritance. An heiress gains a new home—complete with the perfect husband. Only, he doesn’t know it yet! And Patricia Thayer’s THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD comes to a triumphant conclusion when Travis Comes Home.
Lively, high-spirited Julianna Morris shows a woman’s determination to become a mother with Tick Tock Goes the Baby Clock and Roxann Delaney gives us A Saddle Made for Two.
We’ve also got a special treat in store for you! Next month, look for Marie Ferrarella’s The Inheritance, a spin-off from the MAITLAND MATERNITY series. This title is specially packaged with the introduction to the new Harlequin continuity series, TRUEBLOOD, TEXAS. But The Inheritance then leads back into Silhouette Romance, so be sure to catch the opening act.
Happy Reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
A Saddle Made for Two
Roxann Delaney
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Cindy and Tracy, my favorite mother-and-daughter barrel racers, for always being there to answer my questions. To the wonderful ladies and gents of Cata-romance, the very best group in cyberspace. And to my mom, for always believing in me.
Books by Roxann Delaney
Silhouette Romance
Rachel’s Rescuer #1509
A Saddle Made for Two #1533
ROXANN DELANEY
is the mother of four daughters. With the two oldest on their own, although a mere twenty yards away, life in her hometown in south-central Kansas is still far from dull. The 1999 Maggie Award winner enjoys keeping up with the former high school classmates she encounters and the tons of relatives, whose ancestors settled in the area over a century ago. A theater buff, she once helped establish a community theater and both acted and directed in the productions, as well as served on the board of directors. But writing is her first love, and she is thrilled to have followed the yellow brick road to the land of Silhouette Romance. She would love to hear from readers, who can write to her at P.O. Box 636, Clearwater, KS 67026.
Contents
Chapter One (#ubd84fb04-4411-5bb3-a947-e9643608fc5a)
Chapter Two (#u29168bbc-3f8a-5de6-998a-80c15e437e67)
Chapter Three (#uc518429e-3d16-56d4-8cba-b2a8adc7456e)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“Come on over here, sugar, and I’ll show you what a real man can do.”
Ignoring the remark coming from one of the drunken men near a row of stock trailers, Ellie Warren lifted her chin in an indignant gesture. She stomped past them, muttering to herself. “Stupid, brain-dead cowboy.”
The smell of whisky, sweat and animals—some of them the two-legged variety—drenched the night air around the Cedar Rapids, Iowa, rodeo grounds. None of the aromas were new to Ellie. She’d spent the past twelve years, since she was fourteen, barrel racing and the last six of those traveling across the country. She had put up with all manner of rude and crude cowboys, and it hadn’t taken her long to figure out the best way to deal with them. Ignore them.
Her muttering didn’t cease as she wound her way through the contestant campgrounds behind the arena to her camper. “Oughta have their mouths filled with manure.”
Exhaustion slowed her steps, and it took every ounce of energy she had to lift her dust-covered boot onto the metal platform at the back of her pickup camper. She needed a shower, but she’d rather wait until morning than go back through the huddle of men she’d skirted around in the darkness.
Sticking the key in the lock and turning the knob, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. She groped in the dark to switch on a light while she yanked her hat from her head. The hat fell to the countertop, and her gaze dropped to the floor.
Her blood-curdling scream, at the sight of the snake curled on the floor, bounced off the thin camper walls.
Thoughts skittered through her mind, but none made sense. Without taking her attention from the coldblooded invader, Ellie acted on instinct and eased open the door of the small closet to her right. After carefully pulling out a newly purchased, flat-bottomed shovel, intended for her horse trailer, she jabbed the edge onto the snake as close to its head as possible. Praying the critter would stay put, she gripped the wooden handle with both hands and jumped atop the metal. The snake flipped and writhed beneath the blade, and Ellie realized what she’d just done. Frozen to the spot in shock and unable to move, except to brace herself with one hand against the cabinet for balance, a shudder shook her body.
Now what? she thought, when the snake slowed its wriggling. If she got off and it came after her, she’d die of fright. Mercy, she hated snakes! But staying propped on the shovel for eternity wasn’t an option, either.
Her heart regained its beat, pounding ninety to nothing, and her breath came in quick, short bursts. Her knees were so weak and shaky she thought she’d fall off the only thing between her and her unwelcome guest. Taking a deep but unsteady breath, she tried to focus on her alternatives. There didn’t seem to be any.
When the door banged open behind her, she let out another ear-splitting scream.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” a deep baritone barked.
The shovel wobbled beneath her as she craned her neck to discover a pair of bright-blue eyes staring at her from beneath a black Stetson. She couldn’t be certain if the cowboy’s gaze was sliding over her or the shovel, but for the moment it didn’t matter.
Swallowing the lump of fear lodged in her throat, she managed one word. “S-snake.”
“Sure is,” he said with a quirk of his lips. His gaze traveled back to hers. “You okay?”
Finding that her voice had deserted her, she nodded.
He stepped up into the camper and knelt down next to her. “Hang on.”
Unable to watch, she squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel him grip the handle, then both she and the shovel tilted to the left and back again. He brushed against her leg, and another shudder shook her, this one warm instead of cold.
“It’s just a bull snake, hon,” he said, standing.
“Right. Just a snake.” She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering, but her terror eased when his soft chuckle swept through her like a hot, summer wind.
“You can get down, now.”
Uncertain if it was completely safe to remove herself from the shovel, and afraid to look, she stayed put. “Are you sure? Is it…dead?”
“Naw. You aren’t big enough to do that. You just kinda choked him up a little.”
He stood so close to her his warm breath whispered across her temple. The shovel gained her nearly a foot in height, but when she opened her eyes, she still had to look up to see into his eyes.
She nearly fell off the shovel when she recognized her rescuer as Chace Brannigan, the nation’s leading saddle bronc rider.
Sliding his arm around her waist, he held her steady. “One step at a time, hon.”
She took another deep breath, forcing herself to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat, and eyed his other hand. The snake’s body hung limp in his grip. “Get rid of that, will you?”
He glanced at the reptile before giving her a lopsided grin. “Soon as you get down from there.”
The soft, rhythmic thumping of his heart against her shoulder sent her own heart pounding. His scent— fresh air and rugged country male—surrounded her, making her slightly dizzy. She knew she should be scrambling down, but she couldn’t seem to set herself in motion. She’d encountered plenty of cowboys in her twenty-six years, but none had ever caused her heart to trip like a moonstruck adolescent’s.
Determined to gain control of herself, Ellie stepped off the shovel. He didn’t let go. The cramped interior of the camper was filled with the cowboy, making breathing difficult. Without room to take a step in any direction, she forced air into her lungs and out again until her head cleared.
“The snake?” she reminded him in a voice that didn’t sound normal.
“Oh, yeah.” He released her and took a step back to the door, tossing out the body, which had begun to move.
Shrinking away, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming again. While his attention was occupied, she pivoted around the shovel and put the implement between them, breathing only a little easier.
“Thanks,” she said, when he’d pulled the door shut and faced her.
He shrugged, crossed his arms on his broad chest and leaned against the closet. “That’s a dangerous weapon. You always keep a shovel handy?”
She kept her gaze averted from a pair of shoulders as wide as Texas, but she could feel him watching her. “It’s safer in here.”
“Couldn’t be too safe, considering that snake.”
She jerked her head up to stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Snakes can crawl through some pretty small spaces,” he said with a grin. “It coulda come up through a hole. Reckon you ought to double-check the place. Just in case.” He shoved away from the closet, shrinking the space between them.
Nodding, she propped the shovel against the wall. Bone weary from the loss of adrenaline no longer pumping through her body, she took a step back on wobbly legs and sank onto the cushioned seat around the small table. “I’ll do that.”
“And you might want to keep your door locked. If I can come in, anybody can.”
Ellie thought of the cowboy who had called out to her. “Dumb cowboys,” she muttered.
“’Scuse me?”
Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d said. The cowboy in front of her had saved her from what she considered a fate worse than death, and here she was insulting him and his kind.
“Sorry,” she said, ducking her head. She managed to push herself to her feet. She didn’t like being beholden to anyone, but she’d been raised with manners. Keeping her gaze on the pearl snaps of his colorful Western shirt, she stuck out her hand. “Thanks for…rescuing me. I guess I owe you.”
One long stride brought him closer to her, and he took her hand, engulfing it in his. Being barely five feet tall had often put her at a disadvantage, but she’d dealt with it. Until now. He was one big cowboy. She reasoned that he wasn’t any bigger than a dozen other cowboys she knew, but he sure seemed like it. Strength radiated from him, overpowering her senses and leaving her tongue-tied.
“My pleasure.” His voice was a husky whisper.
When he didn’t let go immediately, she slowly raised her gaze past the solid, muscled chest she’d leaned against, over a strong, chiseled chin and jaw. Lingering on lips set in a crooked smile, she looked up into twinkling eyes. That was enough to remind her of what was happening. What was she thinking?
She jerked her hand from his, leaving a tingling sensation in her fingers. She had more sense than to be mesmerized by a hunky cowboy with cool pools of blue for eyes. She’d had enough of cowboys and ranches to last her the rest of her life. And all of it learned at the price of her parents’ lives. No, she was not looking for a cowboy. No way, no how.
“Well, thanks again,” she said, hoping to get him out of the camper in a hurry.
He didn’t budge. “You had a good ride tonight.”
She shrugged, trying to relax in spite of the way he was looking at her. “Not bad.”
“It was good enough to keep you ahead and win the first-place prize money. You’re standing pretty high in the rankings.”
Ellie nodded. A few more wins and she’d have a secure spot for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. Winning the Barrel Racing title wasn’t important. She only wanted to compete. Once. And then she’d be done with it. Retired. She’d leave her gypsy life-style behind for an easy life in the city. Easier than going from rodeo to rodeo, at least. Much easier than living on the Oklahoma ranch her parents had left her and her brothers. A ranch she didn’t want to return to. Ever.
“I’m really tired,” she told the cowboy, when she realized he was still standing before her. “If you don’t mind…”
“Oh. Yeah. Guess it is late.” Hesitating, as if he’d just been shaken out of a deep sleep, he finally turned for the door, opened it and stepped down.
Ellie let out a sigh of relief, welcoming the breathing space his departure gave her. She was ready to collapse into bed—clothes, boots and all.
“Be sure and lock up,” he reminded her, sticking his head back inside.
“I will.” She waited for him to close the door, but he stood watching her. “As soon as you leave,” she added as incentive.
“I’m Chace Brannigan.”
“I know.” Did he think she was deaf and blind? Who didn’t know Chace Brannigan? She’d heard of the three-time champion saddle-bronc rider and seen his pictures plastered in every rodeo magazine in the country, but their paths had never crossed. The roller-coaster ride her stomach was on made her wish they hadn’t this time, either.
“Yeah, well, lock up,” he said again.
With a sigh of exasperation, she glared at him. “I said I would.”
“Now.”
He disappeared, and the door swung shut with a thud. Ellie stared at it for a moment before forcing her feet to move. She always locked the door. Especially at night. She locked it to keep out cowboys like him.
“Lock the door,” she mimicked under her breath. She could take care of herself and didn’t need anyone telling her what to do. Peeling back the curtain at the window only enough to peek outside, she saw him standing on the ground less than a foot from her camper, watching the door.
“Just turn the little button,” he prompted from the other side.
“I am!” She let the fabric slip from her fingers and, with an angry snap, turned the lock. “Satisfied?”
“Yep.”
Even through the camper door she could hear his soft laughter, and the warmth of it spread through her. “Dumb cowboy,” she whispered to ward it off.
Chace’s shoulders shook with long-suppressed mirth as he made his way through the dimly lit campgrounds. It felt good to laugh. Damn good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found much of anything to more than chuckle over. But the sight of that little lady perched on that shovel, her eyes as big as silver dollars.…He laughed even louder. She’d reminded him of a stick of dynamite, ready to go off at any second.
The humor vanished, and a frown replaced his grin. How the hell had that snake gotten in her camper? It hadn’t been poisonous, but it was no laughing matter. Most women were scared to death when they got within ten feet of a snake. And it was obvious that she traveled alone. Nobody to look out for her.
The thought brought him down faster than snow in an avalanche. If he had to, he’d make sure himself that her camper was secure. Besides varmints like that snake, some rodeoers were a shade on the rowdy side, especially as National Finals drew nearer. Lately he’d noticed some of them erring a little too far on the side of trouble. Another good reason to get out while he had a chance to finish on top.
And that list of reasons grew by the day. Dragging his aching body from bed each morning without someone’s help was still possible, but it wasn’t easy. He’d been kicked, stomped, thrown and just plain busted-up enough to make a decision. This was it, his last year—last chance—to have a double championship by winning the Saddle Bronc title and the All-Around Cowboy title with team roping. He’d been here before, a few years back, a little younger and a lot less hampered by injuries, but he’d missed winning both titles by a narrow margin. Being older and more experienced could give him a slight edge over the younger cowboys. But slight was stretching it. His riding and roping would have to be better than ever with no distractions.
He could do it, and then he’d head home to Texas a big winner. He’d shirked his responsibilities to the family ranch long enough, and he was ready to fix that. Sending his winnings home wasn’t enough anymore. His brother needed help with the place. Chace needed to be there. He wanted to be there.
As he neared his truck and horse trailer, the memory of the little bit of a woman came to mind again. Caramel-colored hair blended with chocolate-drop eyes to create a confection that tempted his sweet tooth. But damn, he was on a diet. No women until he had those gold buckles holding his belt together.
“Hey, Brannigan.”
Squinting, Chace could see his traveling and team roping buddy leaning against the truck with one boot propped against the side of the door. “Ray.”
“That last ride of yours was the best yet,” his friend answered.
When he reached the truck, Chace pulled his bronc saddle out of the back. “Hope the next one’s as good. Thanks for taking care of Redneck.”
“No problem.” Ray moved away from the door. “We gonna get a room, or what?”
Chace peered into the darkness in the direction of the camper he’d just left. “That little barrel racer, the one who beat out Cheryl. What’s her name?”
Ray tipped his hat back. “Ellie Warren. She’s one little bitty package.”
“Good with the barrels, too,” Chace agreed, thinking of her winning ride that night.
“Damn straight.”
Chace didn’t believe she was in any danger, but he did know she’d had a bad scare. It hadn’t escaped him that the lock on her door was a sorry excuse for security. If one of the boys in the crowd near her truck had been tipping the bottle a few too many times…She might be dynamite, but she wasn’t big enough to handle a drunken cowboy.
“Think you can pull the truck into that spot over there?” He pointed to a space barely able to accommodate his stretch-cab pickup.
Ray scratched at a day’s growth of beard and shot him a curious look. “Might be a problem with the trailer.”
“Unhook it. I’ve got to check on something. I’ll make sure the horses are settled when I’m done.” He opened the truck door, tossed in the saddle where it would be safe from the elements and grabbed a piece of baling wire from behind the seat.
“I’ll throw the bedrolls in the back,” Ray offered as he opened the other door and slid behind the steering wheel.
“This won’t take long.”
Less than a minute later, Chace stood at Ellie’s camper door and rapped his knuckles hard on the aluminum. When he didn’t get a response, he pounded with his fist. From inside, he heard movement along with muffled curses that would make any cowboy proud.
“Who’s there?”
“Chace Brannigan.” The door flew open, forcing him to jump back to keep from being smacked with it.
Ellie stood in the opening with her fists planted on her hips and a scowl on her face. “Now what?”
Her choice of sleeping attire caught him by surprise and rendered him speechless. Boys’ cotton pajamas covered with brown bucking broncs on a tan background swallowed up her slight frame. The hem of the arms covered her hands, and the legs pooled at her feet where bare toes peeked beneath the too-long cuffs.
Movement forced his attention up when she crossed her arms. The action revealed a fair amount of smooth, tanned cleavage where the front gaped open, and he couldn’t stop looking.
“What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a pair of pajamas?”
Chace swallowed.
“Well?”
“Not since I was eight years old. Not like…those.” He forced a grin and hoped it didn’t resemble a leer. Raising his gaze to lower the skyrocketing heat that threatened to cause him some embarrassment at any moment, he took in the angry line of compressed lips. Dark eyes flashed a warning, framed by unruly waves of silky hair from the braid she’d unleashed.
“What are you doing here, Brannigan?”
The ice in her voice brought him back to his senses. “The door.”
Her foot tapped beneath the loose pajama fabric. “What about it?”
“Close it and lock it behind me.”
“That’s the most intelligent thing you’ve said.” Her arms dropped to her sides, ending the display of suntanned flesh. Reaching out, she pulled the door shut, slamming it in his face.
He heard the snap of the lock and, “Good night, again, Mr. Brannigan.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. He stuck the wire into the keyhole and wiggled it while he turned the handle.
“What in the name of heaven are you—” the door pulled open to reveal her wide eyes and pale face “—doing?”
“That lock might as well be a piece of tape.” He removed the wire and held it up to show her. “Baling wire. Staple of any cowboy’s life.”
“I know that,” she snapped.
“You’re about as safe as—”
“I know that, too.” Biting her lip, she sank back against the counter and shook her head. Fear shimmered in her eyes. “Now what do I do?”
He stepped up and into the camper. “Long-term, we put a sizable lock on that door.”
“We?”
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll put a lock on it.”
Her chin tilted up. “It’s my camper. My home.”
He considered her choice of words. “Maybe a home security system—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said in a huff, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
The thought of someone so small sleeping unguarded made his head ache. “What about tonight?”
Her brows drew together in a thoughtful frown, and one finger tapped her full lips.
“Hell’s bells,” he muttered at an imagined possession of those lips with his.
“Bells!” She spun around and bent over to dig through a cabinet tucked at the base of the over-the-cab sleeping area.
He bit back a groan and pried his gaze from the view of horses galloping across her delectable behind. He didn’t look back again until he heard a loud, nerve-rattling clang.
With a wide grin on her face, Ellie held up a large, brass cowbell. She gave him a push toward the door. “I’ll tie it on the doorknob. If anybody dares to touch that door during the night, I’ll be up in a flash.”
Considering how hard he’d had to knock, Chace doubted a shotgun blast would be enough to wake her, but he kept his opinion to himself. His truck was parked close enough that if the bell did ring, there’d be enough commotion to rouse him.
Her hand at his back, she gave him another shove. “Go on. Try it. But give me a second to get it tied on.”
Clamping his mouth shut on the protest he knew she’d argue with, he stepped out into the quiet night and took a deep breath. Crisp air filled his lungs as he heard the far-from-melodic clunk of the bell hitting the door as it closed behind him.
“Okay, try it,” she said from the other side.
He turned around and grabbed the knob, shaking it gently.
Clang. Clang.
The door opened a crack, and she peeked out at him, the bell jangling loud enough to wake the dead. “It works!” Her smile dimmed. “I guess I owe you…again.”
“It was your idea,” he reminded her.
She opened the door wider, her smile turning grateful. “Yeah, it was. But thanks for checking on the door. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t shown me.”
He gazed at a figure that had to be a stretch to make five feet. His fingers itched to dip into the soft, buttery waves framing her face. Her features were as diminutive as the rest of her, except for the full, lush lips of her wide mouth and her enormous brown eyes. “My pleasure…again.”
He made his way back to his truck, wondering how such a pint-size woman could cause the way-too-tight fit of his jeans. Hell, he was thirty-three years old. Old enough to be her…A dozen words crossed his mind— brother, uncle, cousin—but only one stuck. Lover.
“Forget it, Brannigan. She’s a kid,” he reminded himself while he checked his roping horse and Ray’s. But his body told him she was a woman, in spite of her childlike size.
In the back of his pickup, he pulled his boots off and stretched out on the empty bedroll next to his buddy. Ignoring the snores, he folded his arms behind his head and studied the star-studded black sky. The night air held a definite chill he hoped would cool the flames licking at him. He needed to get his mind back on the business of rodeo. He’d never been responsible for anyone but himself. He’d be crazy to get involved with anything other than winning those buckles and saving his family’s ranch, the Triple B—especially a woman.
Hell’s bells, he thought with a sigh and a silent chuckle. What would the minibundle of trouble bring next?
The sound of pounding and a cowbell ringing jerked Ellie to a sitting position. With luck, she narrowly missed hitting her head on the low ceiling of the over-the-cab bed.
“What in tarnation is that awful racket?” joined the clanging of the bell.
A smile twisted Ellie’s mouth at the sound of the female voice announcing the identity of her visitor. “Hang on a sec, Reba.”
The noise ceased as she scrambled from her loft. She reached the door and opened it to offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
A head of garish red hair preceded the plump, middle-aged woman into the camper. Her suspicious gaze landed on Ellie. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“It’s a long story.”
Shoving back the too-long sleeves of the pajamas she’d snitched from one of her brothers, Ellie tried to decide the best way to explain the bell without going into details. Until she could wake up completely and come to terms with what had happened last night and her ridiculous reaction to the cowboy, she didn’t want to say too much.
Reba Tucker, kindhearted soul that she was, wouldn’t take the news of the snake lightly. The woman had traveled the rodeo circuit with her steer-roper husband for too many years to let the incident slide by with nothing more than a comment or two. No, Reba would make a big fuss over it, and Ellie didn’t want to deal with a hysterical mother hen.
And she didn’t want to mention Chace Brannigan. That’s all Reba would need to set her off on her favorite topic: Cowboys Make Great Husbands. Nate Tucker might be among the best of spouses, but Ellie didn’t want a man who had Wrangler across his butt, or Justin’s on his feet and a Stetson on his head. She didn’t particularly want any man. She’d never needed one yet.
Dragging her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair, Ellie sighed. “I noticed the lock on my door isn’t working right. Until I can have it checked out, the cowbell is a great alarm.”
Reba crossed her arms on her ample chest and leaned one hip against the counter. “That’s it? Dang, girl, all you had to do was say somethin’ to Nate. He’d have skedaddled as fast as a rabbit with a hound dog on his tail to the nearest hardware store and had you snugged up like a baby in a blanket in no time.”
With a grateful smile, Ellie steered the conversation away from her jerry-rigged alarm system. “Is Nate riding in Phoenix?”
Reba nodded. “We’re planning to stop at Laura’s for a day to see my new grandbaby. You gonna compete after the cutoff date for Finals?”
“I may stop at the ranch. I can get some practice in there. And it may be the last time I get to see the place.”
Reba’s mouth settled into a frown. “It’s your home, girl. Yours and your brothers. You aren’t still plannin’ to sell it, are you?”
But it hadn’t been her home since she’d left it six years ago, when Matt turned eighteen, to travel the rodeo circuit. She had only returned when it was absolutely necessary, avoiding the memories she had trouble dealing with. She refused to let the ranch take her brothers’ lives as it had their parents’. Once it was sold, maybe she could finally escape the past.
Gripping the edge of the counter with one hand, she gathered her determination. “I’m selling. There won’t be any more working themselves into an early grave.”
Reba placed her hand on Ellie’s. “That was a freak accident that took your folks. That sorta thing don’t happen—”
“Ranching is a back-breaking, money-sucking way of life.” Ellie pulled away as gently as possible and shoved aside the painful memory of her parents. She couldn’t bear to think about the accident except to remind her that she had to make sure nothing like it would ever happen to the boys.
“They’re adults, Ellie. Let them make their own decisions.”
“I know that. I finished raising them after the folks—” Ellie stopped and took a deep breath. “I know the dangers of ranching. I can’t let anything happen to them. Especially after Matt broke his collarbone last year. It could’ve been worse. Much worse.”
“You weren’t even lookin’ to sell the place,” Reba pointed out as she’d done several times.
Ellie sighed and looked away. It was turning into the same old tiresome argument. Reba couldn’t see the dangers she did. There were too many things that could happen to her brothers on the ranch. And too many memories for her. Next, Reba would ask what she planned to do. Other than move to the city, she didn’t have an answer. Getting the boys off the ranch came first. After that, she’d worry about how to support herself. If she could qualify for National Finals, she might make enough money to see her way clear. For a while.
“I guess I’d better get the trailer hooked up,” she said without looking at her friend. “It’s past time to get on the road.”
“Nate’s probably wonderin’ where I’ve got off to,” Reba said, letting the subject drop, and turned for the door. “You take care until Phoenix. We’ll see you there.”
“You bet.”
When Reba had gone, Ellie opened the closet door to reach for a towel. Catching her reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door, she stared at the image looking back at her and grimaced.
“No wonder Chace Brannigan was gawking at you last night,” she announced to the rumpled figure before her. Turning sideways, she grabbed at the back of the excess pajama fabric to pull it tight across her body and scrutinized the effect.
With a disgusted grunt, she released the material. What did she care if she didn’t have the kind of curves men panted over?
She quickly changed into her clothes from the night before and grabbed a clean set, ready to hit the showers and eager to get on the road. But when she pushed open the camper door, the first thing she saw was the cowboy who’d rescued her the night before. He was obviously headed for the showers, a towel draped around his neck.
When he didn’t look her way, she breathed a sigh of relief and ducked into the camper. Ignoring the clippity-clop of her heart, she waited until she felt safe to leave.
She wasn’t interested in a cowboy, couldn’t be, even if he was the current leading saddle bronc rider in the country and sexy as sin, to boot. She knew all about his kind. She’d met too many “my way or no way” cowboys. Hadn’t she proven she could do it alone? Besides, rodeoers ended up on ranches. She wanted desperately to leave the past and that kind of life behind. Nothing would stop her. And she didn’t need anyone’s help. The sooner she got on the road, the sooner she could put some distance between herself and one particular, bossy cowboy.
Chapter Two
Bleary-eyed from too little sleep, Chace let the stinging spray of the primitive shower near the arena clear the fog from his brain. To his disgust, his sharper mind left him with vivid memories of the night before.
“Hell,” he muttered when his body began to spring to life. He’d spent half the night listening for the clang of a bell and the other half considering a cold shower. There were other remedies for his problem. One idea, which included hauling a particular petite package into his arms, he promptly discarded. Reviewing every millisecond of his latest ride in his mind would be safer. And damn sure more productive.
Dressed again and whistling an off-key tune, he started for his truck. As soon as Ray returned with a thermos of coffee, they’d be on the road. With barely a month to go until the official end of the season, Chace was eager to get to Phoenix. After that, only a few more rodeos until National Finals. Then, if everything went well, he could retire. The money he hoped to win would keep the Triple B Ranch in the black and put an end to worrying about losing it. That, and stop his youngest brother’s plans to turn the family spread into a dude ranch. Hell, he didn’t want strangers traipsing all over the place.
Once back home again, he could begin to make up for leaving Trey to deal with the ranch on his own. Maybe they’d even get lucky enough to entice their brother, Dev, to come home. Working together, they could keep it out of the wrong hands and make the place the successful ranch it had once been. Four generations of Brannigans had owned and worked the Triple B, and he and his brothers had fought to keep it after their father’s death. He knew he belonged there. He’d ducked his responsibilities for too long.
Wide awake, and with his hormones under control and well leashed, Chace didn’t bother to steer clear of Ellie’s camper. But he didn’t expect to find temptation in a tank top as she leaned over to hook her horse trailer to her pickup, offering him a much better glimpse than the pajama top had the previous night.
“Hell and damnation,” he grumbled, knowing that’s exactly what he was in for if she didn’t straighten up and change the view.
To his relief, she moved, but only to the opposite side of the trailer hitch, giving him an eyeful of worn denim stretched tight across the best-looking little backside he’d seen in a long time. It was even better without the pajama horses galloping across it. The sight pulled a tortured groan from him. If he had any sense, he’d turn around and walk back to his truck and forget all about it. But his feet wouldn’t move away any faster than his eyes.
As he watched her wrestle with the coupling, he clenched his hands into fists. He had to do something besides stand there with his tongue hanging out like a panting dog. When she gave the bumper an angry kick, he moved into action.
“I’ll get it,” he growled.
Her head jerked up, her eyes wide but narrowing as he closed the gap between them. “I can do it,” she announced, giving him her back and bending over again.
Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead when he stopped behind her. All he had to do was take hold of those mind-blowing curves and pull her up against him. He placed his hands on her hips, but forced himself to scoot her aside. “Let me do it.”
“It’s my rig,” she said in a tight voice from behind him while he gave the hitch a nudge.
“And it’ll be your smashed fingers,” he replied, snapping the ball cover in place. He turned to find her slipping into a faded chambray shirt and noticed her hands tremble as she fought the buttons.
Anger? He hoped not. He wanted to have the same effect on her that she had on him. It would serve her right.
With her head down and her face hidden from view, her fingers fumbled with the last button. “I’ve been managing my own truck and trailer for almost ten years, since I was old enough to drive. I’ve hooked them up thousands of times.”
He detected a tremor in her voice, but when her head came up and she looked at him, he saw the flash of defiance in her eyes. Damn, she was one stubborn woman.
“Look, Brannigan, I appreciate what you did for me last night, but I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Just let me get loaded and on the road.” She did a quick pivot and marched to untie her horse from the back of a nearby truck.
He moved out of her way and leaned back against the side of the trailer, watching in silence as she loaded her horse into her trailer with the skill of a seasoned professional. Maybe she didn’t need his help now, but without it the night before, no telling what she would have done. Her gentle handling of her horse proved she wasn’t as tough as she might want him to believe. And the stubborn tilt of her chin as she stomped past him to the cab of her truck didn’t erase the memory of the terror he’d seen in her eyes the previous night. It only aggravated him.
He stalked to the truck’s door, reaching it as she slammed it shut with such force it could have registered on the Richter Scale. Planting his hands on the edge where the window was rolled down, he leaned in, his face inches from hers. “You may not want my help, but you sure as hell need it.”
A red flush flooded her cheeks, and her chin went up another notch. “Get your face out of my truck,” she said in a haughty tone.
“Now look here, little bit, I got rid—”
“Don’t!” The crimson shade of her face went deathly pale. Tears glistened in her dark eyes, and she squeezed them shut. “Don’t ever call me that.”
Reaching in, he cradled her cheek in his hand. “Aw, hon, I didn’t mean to—”
“Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Please.” When her lids fluttered open, she turned her head, slipping away from him, and she reached for the ignition. Gunning the motor, she slammed the truck into gear, spewing dirt behind her tires and nearly taking his head and hand with her.
Chace stood staring after her. What the hell had he done? Was his touch so repulsive to her? No, it hadn’t been that. He’d felt her lean into his palm, felt her tremble in his hand. Then dammit, why would she shake him off like water on a wet dog?
He made his way to his own truck and trailer, cursing himself for caring when she obviously wasn’t interested. He’d forget about her by the time he got to Phoenix.
But once on the road, he found it harder than he’d thought to rid himself of her reaction to his touch and his body’s response. Five hundred miles later, with Ray jabbering away the entire trip, Chace wished he’d asked her where she’d be riding next. He had a few questions, when and if he caught up with her. And he’d damn well get some answers.
Ellie pulled her rig in behind the arena near Phoenix just after noon on Friday. She’d made good time, but a week on the road, even though she hadn’t rushed, left her exhausted. Sometimes it was more tiring than the competing.
Each weekend she competed somewhere, earning or not earning enough to place among the top fifteen money winners by the end of the season. Only those placing qualified for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, held the first week of each December. As soon as she finished in Phoenix, she’d head for Austin to do the same thing again. And again, until she hopefully made it to Finals. There would be a month break before that first week in December, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. This time she couldn’t avoid going home.
Home. Ellie sighed and climbed out of her pickup to check on Sky Dancer, thinking of that long month in Oklahoma looming ahead. The thought brought back the old panic and guilt. But she didn’t have a choice. She loved her two brothers and wanted to see them both happy. And safe. Alive and not old before their time. It would take getting them off the ranch to do that. And that meant selling the place, no matter what they thought they wanted. She knew best. Now that she had a prospective buyer, she only had to convince Matt and Brett to sign the papers.
After securing her camper with the new lock she’d had installed, she took Sky Dancer out of the trailer. Her boots kicked up dust in the dry grass as she worked. Rain had been scarce in the area, but from previous experience she knew the arena was well tended. She could concentrate on her riding.
She saddled and bridled Sky Dancer to give him some exercise and herself a welcome break from being behind the wheel. Seeing Reba and Nate’s truck and trailer pull into the lot, she reminded herself to stop on the way back to say howdy. Rodeoers were like a close-knit family. But after spending over half her life competing, she wanted a change—new faces, new experiences. That was for the future. All she wanted for the moment was to relax and ease the knots from her shoulders. Her ride tonight wouldn’t be worth spit if she couldn’t loosen up.
When she’d put enough distance between herself and the parking area, she urged Sky Dancer into a gallop. It should have done the trick, but she couldn’t get a particular cowboy out of her mind. The touch of his hand on her cheek had brought a comfort she’d almost forgotten existed, until she’d realized how weak and vulnerable it made her. She couldn’t allow it. She’d been on her own since raising her brothers— a job she’d finished without help from anyone. She couldn’t start needing someone now, not when she was so close.
By the time she returned to the campgrounds, it was well past two. Hoping to catch Reba, she guided Sky Dancer to the Tuckers’ trailer.
Before she could dismount, Reba appeared in the doorway. “You made good time.”
“How was Laura?”
“Busy.” Reba wiped her hands on her jeans and frowned. “Timmy and little Sally were stayin’ with friends, and the new baby was colicky. Wouldn’t even let me hold him.”
Ellie felt her friend’s disappointment. “Next time he’ll be better.”
With a hopeful smile Reba dug into her pockets and sighed when her hands came up empty. “I’m out of ice, and I always have a glass of cold tea ready for Nate ’fore he heads out for the evenin’. Would you mind gettin’ me a bag at the concession stand?”
“Not at all,” Ellie replied.
“Let me fetch some money.” Reba ducked back inside.
While Ellie waited, the area filled with a variety of vehicles, and she waved to the people she recognized. When a hand rested on her thigh, she nearly bolted from her saddle, spooking Sky Dancer and forcing her to concentrate on calming him.
“Get the door fixed?” a deep, familiar voice asked.
Her heartbeat accelerated as she turned to look down at Chace Branningan. “Are you following me?”
His grin was enough to melt the polar ice cap. “Nope. Didn’t know we were destined to run into each other so soon.”
“Disappointed?” she asked, and watched an assortment of emotions cross his face.
Pure devilment won out to dance in his eyes. “Miss me?”
Ellie wasn’t about to admit she’d thought of little else other than him and the sale of the ranch over the six days she’d spent on the road. “I completely forgot we met.”
The light in his eyes flashed, and he shot her a devilish grin. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“A ten-pound bag shouldn’t be more than—” Reba’s voice halted, and Ellie turned in the saddle to look at her. Her gray-eyed gaze drifted to Chace and back again to Ellie, and her mouth turned up in a Cheshire Cat smile. “I’ll get the ice.”
“No,” Ellie said in a rush and turned to scowl at Chace. “Mr. Brannigan was just leaving.” Having Reba see them together, no matter how innocent, was a bad idea. No telling what the woman might get in her head.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, Chace,” Reba said, her grin widening. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.
He looked at Ellie and offered another knee-weakening grin before turning back to Reba. “I had the pleasure of meeting her last week in Cedar Rapids.”
“Really? In that case, why don’t I fix us all lunch tomorrow and you can get better acquainted. Say at noon?”
With a grin, he touched the brim of his hat. “That sounds mighty fine.”
Ellie shot her friend a murderous look. He was the last person she wanted to spend time with. “I’ll be there if I can make it,” she hedged. “Keep your money, Reba. I’ll get the ice.”
Without a glance at Chace, she nudged her horse toward the concession stand. Behind her, she could hear his soft chuckle, and she tightened her grip on the reins. Her day had taken a turn for the worst when he’d shown up. She hadn’t expected to see him again, and with the season nearly over, the thought had both cheered and disappointed her. That alone was enough to worry her.
Her wait in line at the concession stand was blessedly short, and she added two candy bars, knowing Reba’s penchant for chocolate.
Balancing the bag of ice on the saddle horn in front of her with one hand and holding the reins in the other, she wove her way through the gathering groups toward the Tuckers’ trailer. She called a greeting over her shoulder to one of the other barrel racers, wishing her luck, and turned back when Sky Dancer came to a sudden halt.
Chace stood at the horse’s head, holding the bridle and murmuring to the animal. Ellie opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, but when he looked at her, the words escaped her.
“Trying to avoid me?”
She knew she lacked the subtlety of most women, and his question brought the heat of embarrassment to her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.”
Smoothing his hand along the horse’s neck, Chace moved closer, never taking his eyes from hers. “What did I do to scare you off?”
Lifting her chin, she gripped the saddle horn and squeezed the ice, barely noticing the chill. It wasn’t him that scared her, but what he did to her. She’d never met a man who could scramble her senses with a simple smile. And she’d met plenty of men, rodeo being a predominantly male sport. But no matter how much Chace made her nerves tingle and her mind go blank with just a look, he wasn’t the man for her. She’d sworn off cowboys long ago. If she ever settled down, it wouldn’t be with a vagabond rodeoer.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“But you don’t like me much.” His frown was formidable but didn’t mask his puzzlement.
The confusion in his eyes tugged at her heart. “I really don’t know you, so how can I tell?”
“We can fix that.”
The air around her thickened, and her heart pounded. He hadn’t moved, but somehow he seemed closer. There was nothing worse than a cowboy who couldn’t take a hint, she reminded herself. And she’d done more than hint at him. She hated being rude, but he brought out the worst in her, stirring her up and leaving her with no choice.
Her hands shaking, she gathered the reins to leave, and the ice started to topple. Before she could react, Chace made a grab for it and settled it in the crook of his arm.
When she reached down to snatch it away, he took her hand and placed it on the horn, covering it with his. “If you weren’t in such an all-fired hurry to get away from me…”
Ellie held her breath, ready to deny she wanted to avoid him, but with his hand on hers she couldn’t find the words.
Letting go, he drew back and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know what it is, little bit, but I intend to find out.”
Opening her mouth to ask him what he meant, she froze at the sound of the nickname he’d called her again and squeezed her eyes shut. A vision of her dad lifting her onto a pony flashed through her mind. She swallowed, forcing back the memory that still caused a deep pain. It would only lead to more memories she couldn’t deal with. “I told you not to call me that.”
His hand returned to hers. “It slipped out. But you are—”
“Don’t.” She opened her eyes to see him studying her.
“You don’t like anybody pointing out that you’re on the small side?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. Call me shrimp, call me shorty, call me tiny. Just don’t call me…that.”
Chace tipped his head to one side before removing his hand. “Okay. If you promise to be there tomorrow for lunch at Reba’s.”
She bit back a scathing retort at his persistence. “You don’t give up, do you?”
He shrugged and looked off in the distance. “You were the one who said you didn’t know me well enough to know if you liked me. I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends.”
Ellie knew of plenty. One in particular. A big one. But she couldn’t tell him that it was because of the heat he caused to pool in the area of her body closest to the saddle horn. “I guess there isn’t,” she fibbed.
“Good. Give it your best tonight.” He handed her the ice and touched Sky Dancer on his rump, sending them on their way.
Sky Dancer shied as they circled the back of Reba’s trailer. Ellie quickly regained control, but wondered if he’d needed a longer run.
“I was beginning to worry.”
J. R. Staton was walking toward her, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her real estate agent. Handing him the ice, she offered a smile. “Give this to Reba while I tie up, would you?”
“I’ve had a new offer for the ranch,” he said before turning to walk around the corner of the trailer, out of sight.
Ellie made quick work of sliding off her horse and making sure he was tethered, then she looked around to make sure Chace wasn’t anywhere in sight. She didn’t want to have to deal with him right now. This was far more important.
Talking about the sale, especially if it involved more money for her brothers, was much better than thinking about a wandering cowboy who turned her insides into a blazing bonfire.
The look on Reba’s face when Ellie approached with J.R. was enough to ice down any flames she’d been feeling. Reba didn’t like J.R. and took every opportunity to tell her so. J.R. wasn’t a cowboy—the one thing that raised him in Ellie’s estimation. She hadn’t expected to hear from him, much less see him, until the break before Finals. But now that he was here, she was eager to get the latest news.
“Thanks for gettin’ the ice,” Reba said, taking the bag and planting herself in the doorway.
“It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Tucker,” J.R. said with a pained smiled.
Reba sniffed as she settled more firmly against the doorjamb. “You’re a long way from home.”
Ellie bit back a groan. She could have saved them the awkwardness if she’d known J.R. planned to be in the area.
He met Ellie’s gaze and held it. “I have business in Phoenix, but I wanted to see Ellie first.” He glanced at Reba who stood frowning at him. “To discuss the sale of the ranch, of course.”
When Reba started to reply, Ellie rushed to trample anything she might say. “You said you had a new offer, J.R.?”
He nodded and focused his attention on her. “The buyer has decided the property may be worth more than first assumed. It’s a good offer. I encourage you to accept it.”
When he flashed her a smile, Ellie waited for the same sensations to overtake her that she felt when Chace Brannigan grinned at her. There wasn’t even a twinge. Uneasy with the revelation, she shoved it aside. “All I’m asking is a fair price.”
“We can discuss it further, on the way to your camper.”
Reba looked heavenward and shook her head, giving Ellie the opportunity to escape. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Reba.”
“Noon, for lunch,” her friend called after her, making it sound more like a command than a reminder.
“About the new offer,” Ellie said, as she and J.R. walked to her camper.
He named a figure. She didn’t know what to do. The amount he tossed out so cavalierly was still short of what she hoped to get. If there was the slightest chance that whoever wanted the ranch might go higher, she had to wait. The buyer had given two offers. Wasn’t the third time charmed?
“Maybe the buyer will raise the offer,” she suggested.
He pressed his lips together, and drew his brows down in a concerned frown. “I must caution you not to wait too long. This buyer is interested now. If you don’t make a decision soon…”
“I want to speak with my brothers in person, at the ranch. I’ll know more then.”
His eyebrows arched and he opened his mouth to speak. Instead of saying anything, he closed it and nodded. “I have something for you in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Ellie smiled to herself as she watched him walk away. If she could put him off long enough, she’d have time at the ranch to persuade her brothers to see things her way. In the meantime maybe the buyer would up the price.
She wanted to retire after Finals. Even if she made enough to qualify, it wouldn’t be enough to entice her brothers off the ranch. She had to sell it. But her brothers had to agree to the sale. And she didn’t look forward to telling them about it.
After checking on the horses and making sure his gear would be ready and waiting before his first ride, Chace started out for the stock pens to look over the bronc he’d drawn. A good ride would keep him in the lead. A great one could give him an edge.
His path took him through the thickest of the parking area, and his thoughts, once again, turned to Ellie. He’d hoped she’d be here in Phoenix, but he hadn’t counted on it. There were too many other places to compete. He’d spent most of the day wondering why he wanted to see her again, finally deciding that it was her downright stubbornness to fall for his charm that he found so attractive. What man could walk away from a challenge like that?
He smiled when he thought of the lucky break. But realizing how much it pleased him, he brought himself up short.
Had he gone loco? With four rodeos to go before the end of the season, he didn’t need to form any kind of attachment to a woman. This late in the game, a female was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He’d learned that the hard way, early on in his career, and knew better than to let it happen. He and the other three leaders were so close he couldn’t let up much until after the final ride of the season. Concentration was the key. One slip up, one bad fall because his mind wasn’t fully on his ride, and he might as well kiss his chance at any title goodbye. That wouldn’t help the Triple B. As the oldest, it was his responsibility to see that the ranch prospered. They couldn’t lose it the way they nearly had once. Mistakes and distractions were out of the question.
When he spied Ellie’s pickup and camper to his left, he made a decision. He might be attracted to the miniature ball of fire, but he hadn’t lost his mind. She’d told him flat-out that she didn’t want him around. He’d been fool enough to let his body rule his brains. And he was getting too old to do that. No more. He’d steer clear of her from here on out.
Before he had a chance to backtrack and change his route, he saw Ellie approaching her camper. He stopped in midstride. She wasn’t alone. He had a brief glimpse of a man with her, wearing a white shirt and tie, and carrying a suit coat slung over his shoulder. A cold hard ball of busted pride lodged in Chace’s gut when he saw the bouquet of flowers in her hand. He’d been a bigger fool than he’d thought. She already had a man, and by the look of him, a simple rodeo cowboy would fail to measure up. Even if the cowboy won a dozen National Championships.
Disgusted with himself, Chace dared a last glance at the couple before he moved on to the stock pens. What he saw made his blood run cold, then hot. “Son of a—”
Ellie stood propped against the side of her camper gazing up at the last man he’d expect to see at a rodeo.
“Maybe a little competition from the right man would improve her eyesight.”
Chace spun around to see Reba approaching. He would gladly give James Robert Staton a lot of things, including a shiner he owed him, but he remembered his decision to stay away from Ellie Warren. “Find another man, Reba. I’ve got a double championship to take care of, not a pint-size bundle of fireworks—who doesn’t like me—to tangle with.”
A glance at her told him she would hang on to this crazy idea she had like a dog with an old bone if he didn’t set her straight. Sighing, he shook his head. “Not this time, Reba. You keep this to yourself, but this is my last year. I go out in a blaze of glory or I go out a loser.”
Reba patted his arm with one plump hand. “You’ll never be a loser, Chace Brannigan. It’s not in you. But that man is nothin’ but trouble.”
Chace almost choked on his reply when he saw the object of their conversation reach out to push back a stray strand of Ellie’s hair that had escaped her braid. “What do you mean?”
Reba’s eyes flashed with impatience. “You’re a man. Figure it out.”
Chace didn’t want to consider the implication of her words. Just watching Ellie conjured up an image of rumpled sheets and passion-drenched nights. Everybody else might see her as Ellie, a diminutive tomboy on a horse, taking barrels like the champ she would someday be. But Chace’s eyes and body told him her dynamite temper and obstinate attitude hid something deeper. A passion he hoped to unleash and, at the same time, prayed he wouldn’t.
When he turned around, Reba was gone. He had to make a decision. In spite of his earlier vow to stay away from the little spitfire, he wasn’t about to let the man he’d known as Jimmy Bob since they were kids pull any of his con man tricks on her. Ellie needed protecting. And Chace was the man to do it.
Chapter Three
“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked, when J.R. started to walk away in the middle of their conversation.
He turned back to her with a smile. “I thought I saw someone I know.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied him. “Do you know many rodeo people?”
“One or two. Through business.”
A small shiver of excitement rippled through her. Spending all of her life on the ranch, and then on the circuit, had isolated her from the rest of the world. No matter what she decided to do with herself after she retired, she wanted to see how nonrodeo people lived. And live it herself.
He touched her hand. “I’ll be back to watch you ride. And tomorrow night when you’re finished, we’ll have dinner. But right now I need to get back to business.”
Ellie ignored the fact that her heart didn’t flutter at the physical contact. He had the oddest eyes. Brown, like hers, and almost impossible to read. With most people she knew what they were feeling by looking into their eyes, but his seldom showed emotion. Was he coming on to her?
“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be cheering you on,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She thanked him and watched him walk away, unsure of what had transpired. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon, and she needed to change before the opening ceremony. She’d never been much for the fancy outfits some of the others wore, but she made concessions, knowing the crowd liked to see the competitors in bright colors. The flashier, the better.
In her camper she stripped off her boots, jeans and shirt and opened the door to her closet. Reaching for her favorite deep-red, fringed shirt, she glanced in the mirror.
She’d never paid much attention to her body and couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a long look at herself. Being smaller than most women, she’d assumed she was still built like a young girl. The image of the woman in front of her gave her a completely different view. To her surprise she had hips, though nothing to brag about. Her larger-than-she’d-thought bust was nothing to write home about, either, but at least she had one. She straightened her shoulders and sucked in a breath. Not bad, she thought. But why hadn’t she ever noticed?
“Because you never had a reason to care, you fool,” she reminded her reflection. She took a step back for a better look. “Would men like this?” She’d had her share of wolf whistles from leering cowboys, but she’d brushed them off as matter-of-fact. That’s the way cowboys were. When they got to know her, most of them treated her the same way her brothers did. None of them had ever had that spark of fire in their eyes that she’d seen in—
She shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way, girl. Don’t even go there.” Thinking of that particular cowboy was dead wrong. Pushy, arrogant and nothing but a rodeoer who’d wander for the rest of his life, Chace was a danger she couldn’t let herself consider.
But why was it him who sent rivulets of heat through her whenever he looked at her? She might not know much about men, and she might not have paid much attention to her blossoming body, but she knew enough about both to know that he was the one who stoked a fire in her. She’d heard of chemistry, of how a woman’s body reacted to some men. But chemistry wouldn’t get her a home in the city and the kind of life she wanted. Chemistry would get her trouble.
Her pristine white bra and panties drew her attention. She remembered seeing fellow barrel racer, Dawn Dawson, in the showers in Memphis. The two of them were the same age, but Dawn had the body of Venus de Milo, and men always followed her around. The woman had peeled off her clothes right in front of Ellie, who had more modesty than she knew what to do with, to reveal jade-green bikini underwear and a matching bra that left little to the imagination.
Is that what makes Dawn’s hips sway from side to side? What gives her such confidence?
Ellie took a step back and studied her reflection. Would fancy underthings help? Not that anyone would see them, of course. But only to know that a secret lay hidden beneath her jeans and shirts…?
It was a thought she pondered for some time.
Chace waited until J.R. had driven away before making his first move. If the weasel was on the scent of something that would gain him more than a few bucks, he wouldn’t waste time. Chace needed to talk to Ellie and find out what she had that Jimmy Bob wanted. Things would only get worse if he put it off.
When the doorknob to her camper turned with ease, he swore under his breath, prepared to give her the blistering lecture she deserved. Hell, she’d already found one snake in there. Did she want to find another, this time with legs?
He wrenched open the door and leaped up the step. “When the hell are you going to—”
Freezing on the spot, his tirade stuck in his throat. Ellie stood less than five feet in front of him dressed in nothing but her unmentionables and looking at him with horror-filled eyes. He couldn’t have stopped his body’s reaction at the sight of her if someone had tossed a bucket of ice water on him. He’d seen women in less, but something about the maidenish look of Ellie did things to him he wouldn’t have imagined.
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Roxann Delaney
JUST ONE KISS…Cowboys! Ellie Warren had met enough arrogant men on the rodeo circuit to last her ten lifetimes. She had plans–and they didn't include a hard-bodied, blue-eyed distraction named Chace Brannigan. But with just one kiss from the bronc-riding champion, Ellie knew her lonely heart threatened her neatly laid plans….As Ellie slipped from his protective embrace, Chace had an overwhelming feeling of needs aching to be fulfilled. But he had promises to keep, and a woman had no place in them. Yet something about Ellie's solitary goals made him long for things unspoken. Perhaps together they could design a saddle made for two…?
“Are you going to be my lifelong bodyguard?”
Chace turned Ellie to face him. Now that she brought up the idea, he wasn’t sure he’d mind keeping an eye on her. It was crazy, but he couldn’t deny it. It didn’t mean he wanted to make any kind of commitment or declare his undying love, but the thought of being with her felt…right.
“For this trip, I’m responsible for you.”
In the dim light, he couldn’t see her face clearly. The silence surrounded them, and he could have sworn he heard her heart beating. Or was that his own, racing in his ears? He pressed her hand to his chest and drew her close.
“Chace,” she said on a whispered breath.
It was then he knew who he should be protecting her from.
Dear Reader,
I hope the long hot summer puts you in the mood for romance—Silhouette Romance, that is! Because we’ve got a month chock-full of exciting stories. And be sure to check out just how Silhouette can make you a star!
Elizabeth Harbison returns with her CINDERELLA BRIDES miniseries. In His Secret Heir, an English earl discovers the American student he’d once known had left with more than his heart…. And Teresa Southwick’s Crazy for Lovin’You begins a new series set in DESTINY, TEXAS. Filled with emotion, romance and a touch of intrigue, these stories are sure to captivate you!
Cara Colter’s THE WEDDING LEGACY begins with Husband by Inheritance. An heiress gains a new home—complete with the perfect husband. Only, he doesn’t know it yet! And Patricia Thayer’s THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD comes to a triumphant conclusion when Travis Comes Home.
Lively, high-spirited Julianna Morris shows a woman’s determination to become a mother with Tick Tock Goes the Baby Clock and Roxann Delaney gives us A Saddle Made for Two.
We’ve also got a special treat in store for you! Next month, look for Marie Ferrarella’s The Inheritance, a spin-off from the MAITLAND MATERNITY series. This title is specially packaged with the introduction to the new Harlequin continuity series, TRUEBLOOD, TEXAS. But The Inheritance then leads back into Silhouette Romance, so be sure to catch the opening act.
Happy Reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
A Saddle Made for Two
Roxann Delaney
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Cindy and Tracy, my favorite mother-and-daughter barrel racers, for always being there to answer my questions. To the wonderful ladies and gents of Cata-romance, the very best group in cyberspace. And to my mom, for always believing in me.
Books by Roxann Delaney
Silhouette Romance
Rachel’s Rescuer #1509
A Saddle Made for Two #1533
ROXANN DELANEY
is the mother of four daughters. With the two oldest on their own, although a mere twenty yards away, life in her hometown in south-central Kansas is still far from dull. The 1999 Maggie Award winner enjoys keeping up with the former high school classmates she encounters and the tons of relatives, whose ancestors settled in the area over a century ago. A theater buff, she once helped establish a community theater and both acted and directed in the productions, as well as served on the board of directors. But writing is her first love, and she is thrilled to have followed the yellow brick road to the land of Silhouette Romance. She would love to hear from readers, who can write to her at P.O. Box 636, Clearwater, KS 67026.
Contents
Chapter One (#ubd84fb04-4411-5bb3-a947-e9643608fc5a)
Chapter Two (#u29168bbc-3f8a-5de6-998a-80c15e437e67)
Chapter Three (#uc518429e-3d16-56d4-8cba-b2a8adc7456e)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“Come on over here, sugar, and I’ll show you what a real man can do.”
Ignoring the remark coming from one of the drunken men near a row of stock trailers, Ellie Warren lifted her chin in an indignant gesture. She stomped past them, muttering to herself. “Stupid, brain-dead cowboy.”
The smell of whisky, sweat and animals—some of them the two-legged variety—drenched the night air around the Cedar Rapids, Iowa, rodeo grounds. None of the aromas were new to Ellie. She’d spent the past twelve years, since she was fourteen, barrel racing and the last six of those traveling across the country. She had put up with all manner of rude and crude cowboys, and it hadn’t taken her long to figure out the best way to deal with them. Ignore them.
Her muttering didn’t cease as she wound her way through the contestant campgrounds behind the arena to her camper. “Oughta have their mouths filled with manure.”
Exhaustion slowed her steps, and it took every ounce of energy she had to lift her dust-covered boot onto the metal platform at the back of her pickup camper. She needed a shower, but she’d rather wait until morning than go back through the huddle of men she’d skirted around in the darkness.
Sticking the key in the lock and turning the knob, she pulled open the door and stepped inside. She groped in the dark to switch on a light while she yanked her hat from her head. The hat fell to the countertop, and her gaze dropped to the floor.
Her blood-curdling scream, at the sight of the snake curled on the floor, bounced off the thin camper walls.
Thoughts skittered through her mind, but none made sense. Without taking her attention from the coldblooded invader, Ellie acted on instinct and eased open the door of the small closet to her right. After carefully pulling out a newly purchased, flat-bottomed shovel, intended for her horse trailer, she jabbed the edge onto the snake as close to its head as possible. Praying the critter would stay put, she gripped the wooden handle with both hands and jumped atop the metal. The snake flipped and writhed beneath the blade, and Ellie realized what she’d just done. Frozen to the spot in shock and unable to move, except to brace herself with one hand against the cabinet for balance, a shudder shook her body.
Now what? she thought, when the snake slowed its wriggling. If she got off and it came after her, she’d die of fright. Mercy, she hated snakes! But staying propped on the shovel for eternity wasn’t an option, either.
Her heart regained its beat, pounding ninety to nothing, and her breath came in quick, short bursts. Her knees were so weak and shaky she thought she’d fall off the only thing between her and her unwelcome guest. Taking a deep but unsteady breath, she tried to focus on her alternatives. There didn’t seem to be any.
When the door banged open behind her, she let out another ear-splitting scream.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” a deep baritone barked.
The shovel wobbled beneath her as she craned her neck to discover a pair of bright-blue eyes staring at her from beneath a black Stetson. She couldn’t be certain if the cowboy’s gaze was sliding over her or the shovel, but for the moment it didn’t matter.
Swallowing the lump of fear lodged in her throat, she managed one word. “S-snake.”
“Sure is,” he said with a quirk of his lips. His gaze traveled back to hers. “You okay?”
Finding that her voice had deserted her, she nodded.
He stepped up into the camper and knelt down next to her. “Hang on.”
Unable to watch, she squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel him grip the handle, then both she and the shovel tilted to the left and back again. He brushed against her leg, and another shudder shook her, this one warm instead of cold.
“It’s just a bull snake, hon,” he said, standing.
“Right. Just a snake.” She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering, but her terror eased when his soft chuckle swept through her like a hot, summer wind.
“You can get down, now.”
Uncertain if it was completely safe to remove herself from the shovel, and afraid to look, she stayed put. “Are you sure? Is it…dead?”
“Naw. You aren’t big enough to do that. You just kinda choked him up a little.”
He stood so close to her his warm breath whispered across her temple. The shovel gained her nearly a foot in height, but when she opened her eyes, she still had to look up to see into his eyes.
She nearly fell off the shovel when she recognized her rescuer as Chace Brannigan, the nation’s leading saddle bronc rider.
Sliding his arm around her waist, he held her steady. “One step at a time, hon.”
She took another deep breath, forcing herself to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat, and eyed his other hand. The snake’s body hung limp in his grip. “Get rid of that, will you?”
He glanced at the reptile before giving her a lopsided grin. “Soon as you get down from there.”
The soft, rhythmic thumping of his heart against her shoulder sent her own heart pounding. His scent— fresh air and rugged country male—surrounded her, making her slightly dizzy. She knew she should be scrambling down, but she couldn’t seem to set herself in motion. She’d encountered plenty of cowboys in her twenty-six years, but none had ever caused her heart to trip like a moonstruck adolescent’s.
Determined to gain control of herself, Ellie stepped off the shovel. He didn’t let go. The cramped interior of the camper was filled with the cowboy, making breathing difficult. Without room to take a step in any direction, she forced air into her lungs and out again until her head cleared.
“The snake?” she reminded him in a voice that didn’t sound normal.
“Oh, yeah.” He released her and took a step back to the door, tossing out the body, which had begun to move.
Shrinking away, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming again. While his attention was occupied, she pivoted around the shovel and put the implement between them, breathing only a little easier.
“Thanks,” she said, when he’d pulled the door shut and faced her.
He shrugged, crossed his arms on his broad chest and leaned against the closet. “That’s a dangerous weapon. You always keep a shovel handy?”
She kept her gaze averted from a pair of shoulders as wide as Texas, but she could feel him watching her. “It’s safer in here.”
“Couldn’t be too safe, considering that snake.”
She jerked her head up to stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Snakes can crawl through some pretty small spaces,” he said with a grin. “It coulda come up through a hole. Reckon you ought to double-check the place. Just in case.” He shoved away from the closet, shrinking the space between them.
Nodding, she propped the shovel against the wall. Bone weary from the loss of adrenaline no longer pumping through her body, she took a step back on wobbly legs and sank onto the cushioned seat around the small table. “I’ll do that.”
“And you might want to keep your door locked. If I can come in, anybody can.”
Ellie thought of the cowboy who had called out to her. “Dumb cowboys,” she muttered.
“’Scuse me?”
Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d said. The cowboy in front of her had saved her from what she considered a fate worse than death, and here she was insulting him and his kind.
“Sorry,” she said, ducking her head. She managed to push herself to her feet. She didn’t like being beholden to anyone, but she’d been raised with manners. Keeping her gaze on the pearl snaps of his colorful Western shirt, she stuck out her hand. “Thanks for…rescuing me. I guess I owe you.”
One long stride brought him closer to her, and he took her hand, engulfing it in his. Being barely five feet tall had often put her at a disadvantage, but she’d dealt with it. Until now. He was one big cowboy. She reasoned that he wasn’t any bigger than a dozen other cowboys she knew, but he sure seemed like it. Strength radiated from him, overpowering her senses and leaving her tongue-tied.
“My pleasure.” His voice was a husky whisper.
When he didn’t let go immediately, she slowly raised her gaze past the solid, muscled chest she’d leaned against, over a strong, chiseled chin and jaw. Lingering on lips set in a crooked smile, she looked up into twinkling eyes. That was enough to remind her of what was happening. What was she thinking?
She jerked her hand from his, leaving a tingling sensation in her fingers. She had more sense than to be mesmerized by a hunky cowboy with cool pools of blue for eyes. She’d had enough of cowboys and ranches to last her the rest of her life. And all of it learned at the price of her parents’ lives. No, she was not looking for a cowboy. No way, no how.
“Well, thanks again,” she said, hoping to get him out of the camper in a hurry.
He didn’t budge. “You had a good ride tonight.”
She shrugged, trying to relax in spite of the way he was looking at her. “Not bad.”
“It was good enough to keep you ahead and win the first-place prize money. You’re standing pretty high in the rankings.”
Ellie nodded. A few more wins and she’d have a secure spot for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. Winning the Barrel Racing title wasn’t important. She only wanted to compete. Once. And then she’d be done with it. Retired. She’d leave her gypsy life-style behind for an easy life in the city. Easier than going from rodeo to rodeo, at least. Much easier than living on the Oklahoma ranch her parents had left her and her brothers. A ranch she didn’t want to return to. Ever.
“I’m really tired,” she told the cowboy, when she realized he was still standing before her. “If you don’t mind…”
“Oh. Yeah. Guess it is late.” Hesitating, as if he’d just been shaken out of a deep sleep, he finally turned for the door, opened it and stepped down.
Ellie let out a sigh of relief, welcoming the breathing space his departure gave her. She was ready to collapse into bed—clothes, boots and all.
“Be sure and lock up,” he reminded her, sticking his head back inside.
“I will.” She waited for him to close the door, but he stood watching her. “As soon as you leave,” she added as incentive.
“I’m Chace Brannigan.”
“I know.” Did he think she was deaf and blind? Who didn’t know Chace Brannigan? She’d heard of the three-time champion saddle-bronc rider and seen his pictures plastered in every rodeo magazine in the country, but their paths had never crossed. The roller-coaster ride her stomach was on made her wish they hadn’t this time, either.
“Yeah, well, lock up,” he said again.
With a sigh of exasperation, she glared at him. “I said I would.”
“Now.”
He disappeared, and the door swung shut with a thud. Ellie stared at it for a moment before forcing her feet to move. She always locked the door. Especially at night. She locked it to keep out cowboys like him.
“Lock the door,” she mimicked under her breath. She could take care of herself and didn’t need anyone telling her what to do. Peeling back the curtain at the window only enough to peek outside, she saw him standing on the ground less than a foot from her camper, watching the door.
“Just turn the little button,” he prompted from the other side.
“I am!” She let the fabric slip from her fingers and, with an angry snap, turned the lock. “Satisfied?”
“Yep.”
Even through the camper door she could hear his soft laughter, and the warmth of it spread through her. “Dumb cowboy,” she whispered to ward it off.
Chace’s shoulders shook with long-suppressed mirth as he made his way through the dimly lit campgrounds. It felt good to laugh. Damn good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found much of anything to more than chuckle over. But the sight of that little lady perched on that shovel, her eyes as big as silver dollars.…He laughed even louder. She’d reminded him of a stick of dynamite, ready to go off at any second.
The humor vanished, and a frown replaced his grin. How the hell had that snake gotten in her camper? It hadn’t been poisonous, but it was no laughing matter. Most women were scared to death when they got within ten feet of a snake. And it was obvious that she traveled alone. Nobody to look out for her.
The thought brought him down faster than snow in an avalanche. If he had to, he’d make sure himself that her camper was secure. Besides varmints like that snake, some rodeoers were a shade on the rowdy side, especially as National Finals drew nearer. Lately he’d noticed some of them erring a little too far on the side of trouble. Another good reason to get out while he had a chance to finish on top.
And that list of reasons grew by the day. Dragging his aching body from bed each morning without someone’s help was still possible, but it wasn’t easy. He’d been kicked, stomped, thrown and just plain busted-up enough to make a decision. This was it, his last year—last chance—to have a double championship by winning the Saddle Bronc title and the All-Around Cowboy title with team roping. He’d been here before, a few years back, a little younger and a lot less hampered by injuries, but he’d missed winning both titles by a narrow margin. Being older and more experienced could give him a slight edge over the younger cowboys. But slight was stretching it. His riding and roping would have to be better than ever with no distractions.
He could do it, and then he’d head home to Texas a big winner. He’d shirked his responsibilities to the family ranch long enough, and he was ready to fix that. Sending his winnings home wasn’t enough anymore. His brother needed help with the place. Chace needed to be there. He wanted to be there.
As he neared his truck and horse trailer, the memory of the little bit of a woman came to mind again. Caramel-colored hair blended with chocolate-drop eyes to create a confection that tempted his sweet tooth. But damn, he was on a diet. No women until he had those gold buckles holding his belt together.
“Hey, Brannigan.”
Squinting, Chace could see his traveling and team roping buddy leaning against the truck with one boot propped against the side of the door. “Ray.”
“That last ride of yours was the best yet,” his friend answered.
When he reached the truck, Chace pulled his bronc saddle out of the back. “Hope the next one’s as good. Thanks for taking care of Redneck.”
“No problem.” Ray moved away from the door. “We gonna get a room, or what?”
Chace peered into the darkness in the direction of the camper he’d just left. “That little barrel racer, the one who beat out Cheryl. What’s her name?”
Ray tipped his hat back. “Ellie Warren. She’s one little bitty package.”
“Good with the barrels, too,” Chace agreed, thinking of her winning ride that night.
“Damn straight.”
Chace didn’t believe she was in any danger, but he did know she’d had a bad scare. It hadn’t escaped him that the lock on her door was a sorry excuse for security. If one of the boys in the crowd near her truck had been tipping the bottle a few too many times…She might be dynamite, but she wasn’t big enough to handle a drunken cowboy.
“Think you can pull the truck into that spot over there?” He pointed to a space barely able to accommodate his stretch-cab pickup.
Ray scratched at a day’s growth of beard and shot him a curious look. “Might be a problem with the trailer.”
“Unhook it. I’ve got to check on something. I’ll make sure the horses are settled when I’m done.” He opened the truck door, tossed in the saddle where it would be safe from the elements and grabbed a piece of baling wire from behind the seat.
“I’ll throw the bedrolls in the back,” Ray offered as he opened the other door and slid behind the steering wheel.
“This won’t take long.”
Less than a minute later, Chace stood at Ellie’s camper door and rapped his knuckles hard on the aluminum. When he didn’t get a response, he pounded with his fist. From inside, he heard movement along with muffled curses that would make any cowboy proud.
“Who’s there?”
“Chace Brannigan.” The door flew open, forcing him to jump back to keep from being smacked with it.
Ellie stood in the opening with her fists planted on her hips and a scowl on her face. “Now what?”
Her choice of sleeping attire caught him by surprise and rendered him speechless. Boys’ cotton pajamas covered with brown bucking broncs on a tan background swallowed up her slight frame. The hem of the arms covered her hands, and the legs pooled at her feet where bare toes peeked beneath the too-long cuffs.
Movement forced his attention up when she crossed her arms. The action revealed a fair amount of smooth, tanned cleavage where the front gaped open, and he couldn’t stop looking.
“What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a pair of pajamas?”
Chace swallowed.
“Well?”
“Not since I was eight years old. Not like…those.” He forced a grin and hoped it didn’t resemble a leer. Raising his gaze to lower the skyrocketing heat that threatened to cause him some embarrassment at any moment, he took in the angry line of compressed lips. Dark eyes flashed a warning, framed by unruly waves of silky hair from the braid she’d unleashed.
“What are you doing here, Brannigan?”
The ice in her voice brought him back to his senses. “The door.”
Her foot tapped beneath the loose pajama fabric. “What about it?”
“Close it and lock it behind me.”
“That’s the most intelligent thing you’ve said.” Her arms dropped to her sides, ending the display of suntanned flesh. Reaching out, she pulled the door shut, slamming it in his face.
He heard the snap of the lock and, “Good night, again, Mr. Brannigan.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. He stuck the wire into the keyhole and wiggled it while he turned the handle.
“What in the name of heaven are you—” the door pulled open to reveal her wide eyes and pale face “—doing?”
“That lock might as well be a piece of tape.” He removed the wire and held it up to show her. “Baling wire. Staple of any cowboy’s life.”
“I know that,” she snapped.
“You’re about as safe as—”
“I know that, too.” Biting her lip, she sank back against the counter and shook her head. Fear shimmered in her eyes. “Now what do I do?”
He stepped up and into the camper. “Long-term, we put a sizable lock on that door.”
“We?”
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll put a lock on it.”
Her chin tilted up. “It’s my camper. My home.”
He considered her choice of words. “Maybe a home security system—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said in a huff, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
The thought of someone so small sleeping unguarded made his head ache. “What about tonight?”
Her brows drew together in a thoughtful frown, and one finger tapped her full lips.
“Hell’s bells,” he muttered at an imagined possession of those lips with his.
“Bells!” She spun around and bent over to dig through a cabinet tucked at the base of the over-the-cab sleeping area.
He bit back a groan and pried his gaze from the view of horses galloping across her delectable behind. He didn’t look back again until he heard a loud, nerve-rattling clang.
With a wide grin on her face, Ellie held up a large, brass cowbell. She gave him a push toward the door. “I’ll tie it on the doorknob. If anybody dares to touch that door during the night, I’ll be up in a flash.”
Considering how hard he’d had to knock, Chace doubted a shotgun blast would be enough to wake her, but he kept his opinion to himself. His truck was parked close enough that if the bell did ring, there’d be enough commotion to rouse him.
Her hand at his back, she gave him another shove. “Go on. Try it. But give me a second to get it tied on.”
Clamping his mouth shut on the protest he knew she’d argue with, he stepped out into the quiet night and took a deep breath. Crisp air filled his lungs as he heard the far-from-melodic clunk of the bell hitting the door as it closed behind him.
“Okay, try it,” she said from the other side.
He turned around and grabbed the knob, shaking it gently.
Clang. Clang.
The door opened a crack, and she peeked out at him, the bell jangling loud enough to wake the dead. “It works!” Her smile dimmed. “I guess I owe you…again.”
“It was your idea,” he reminded her.
She opened the door wider, her smile turning grateful. “Yeah, it was. But thanks for checking on the door. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t shown me.”
He gazed at a figure that had to be a stretch to make five feet. His fingers itched to dip into the soft, buttery waves framing her face. Her features were as diminutive as the rest of her, except for the full, lush lips of her wide mouth and her enormous brown eyes. “My pleasure…again.”
He made his way back to his truck, wondering how such a pint-size woman could cause the way-too-tight fit of his jeans. Hell, he was thirty-three years old. Old enough to be her…A dozen words crossed his mind— brother, uncle, cousin—but only one stuck. Lover.
“Forget it, Brannigan. She’s a kid,” he reminded himself while he checked his roping horse and Ray’s. But his body told him she was a woman, in spite of her childlike size.
In the back of his pickup, he pulled his boots off and stretched out on the empty bedroll next to his buddy. Ignoring the snores, he folded his arms behind his head and studied the star-studded black sky. The night air held a definite chill he hoped would cool the flames licking at him. He needed to get his mind back on the business of rodeo. He’d never been responsible for anyone but himself. He’d be crazy to get involved with anything other than winning those buckles and saving his family’s ranch, the Triple B—especially a woman.
Hell’s bells, he thought with a sigh and a silent chuckle. What would the minibundle of trouble bring next?
The sound of pounding and a cowbell ringing jerked Ellie to a sitting position. With luck, she narrowly missed hitting her head on the low ceiling of the over-the-cab bed.
“What in tarnation is that awful racket?” joined the clanging of the bell.
A smile twisted Ellie’s mouth at the sound of the female voice announcing the identity of her visitor. “Hang on a sec, Reba.”
The noise ceased as she scrambled from her loft. She reached the door and opened it to offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
A head of garish red hair preceded the plump, middle-aged woman into the camper. Her suspicious gaze landed on Ellie. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“It’s a long story.”
Shoving back the too-long sleeves of the pajamas she’d snitched from one of her brothers, Ellie tried to decide the best way to explain the bell without going into details. Until she could wake up completely and come to terms with what had happened last night and her ridiculous reaction to the cowboy, she didn’t want to say too much.
Reba Tucker, kindhearted soul that she was, wouldn’t take the news of the snake lightly. The woman had traveled the rodeo circuit with her steer-roper husband for too many years to let the incident slide by with nothing more than a comment or two. No, Reba would make a big fuss over it, and Ellie didn’t want to deal with a hysterical mother hen.
And she didn’t want to mention Chace Brannigan. That’s all Reba would need to set her off on her favorite topic: Cowboys Make Great Husbands. Nate Tucker might be among the best of spouses, but Ellie didn’t want a man who had Wrangler across his butt, or Justin’s on his feet and a Stetson on his head. She didn’t particularly want any man. She’d never needed one yet.
Dragging her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair, Ellie sighed. “I noticed the lock on my door isn’t working right. Until I can have it checked out, the cowbell is a great alarm.”
Reba crossed her arms on her ample chest and leaned one hip against the counter. “That’s it? Dang, girl, all you had to do was say somethin’ to Nate. He’d have skedaddled as fast as a rabbit with a hound dog on his tail to the nearest hardware store and had you snugged up like a baby in a blanket in no time.”
With a grateful smile, Ellie steered the conversation away from her jerry-rigged alarm system. “Is Nate riding in Phoenix?”
Reba nodded. “We’re planning to stop at Laura’s for a day to see my new grandbaby. You gonna compete after the cutoff date for Finals?”
“I may stop at the ranch. I can get some practice in there. And it may be the last time I get to see the place.”
Reba’s mouth settled into a frown. “It’s your home, girl. Yours and your brothers. You aren’t still plannin’ to sell it, are you?”
But it hadn’t been her home since she’d left it six years ago, when Matt turned eighteen, to travel the rodeo circuit. She had only returned when it was absolutely necessary, avoiding the memories she had trouble dealing with. She refused to let the ranch take her brothers’ lives as it had their parents’. Once it was sold, maybe she could finally escape the past.
Gripping the edge of the counter with one hand, she gathered her determination. “I’m selling. There won’t be any more working themselves into an early grave.”
Reba placed her hand on Ellie’s. “That was a freak accident that took your folks. That sorta thing don’t happen—”
“Ranching is a back-breaking, money-sucking way of life.” Ellie pulled away as gently as possible and shoved aside the painful memory of her parents. She couldn’t bear to think about the accident except to remind her that she had to make sure nothing like it would ever happen to the boys.
“They’re adults, Ellie. Let them make their own decisions.”
“I know that. I finished raising them after the folks—” Ellie stopped and took a deep breath. “I know the dangers of ranching. I can’t let anything happen to them. Especially after Matt broke his collarbone last year. It could’ve been worse. Much worse.”
“You weren’t even lookin’ to sell the place,” Reba pointed out as she’d done several times.
Ellie sighed and looked away. It was turning into the same old tiresome argument. Reba couldn’t see the dangers she did. There were too many things that could happen to her brothers on the ranch. And too many memories for her. Next, Reba would ask what she planned to do. Other than move to the city, she didn’t have an answer. Getting the boys off the ranch came first. After that, she’d worry about how to support herself. If she could qualify for National Finals, she might make enough money to see her way clear. For a while.
“I guess I’d better get the trailer hooked up,” she said without looking at her friend. “It’s past time to get on the road.”
“Nate’s probably wonderin’ where I’ve got off to,” Reba said, letting the subject drop, and turned for the door. “You take care until Phoenix. We’ll see you there.”
“You bet.”
When Reba had gone, Ellie opened the closet door to reach for a towel. Catching her reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door, she stared at the image looking back at her and grimaced.
“No wonder Chace Brannigan was gawking at you last night,” she announced to the rumpled figure before her. Turning sideways, she grabbed at the back of the excess pajama fabric to pull it tight across her body and scrutinized the effect.
With a disgusted grunt, she released the material. What did she care if she didn’t have the kind of curves men panted over?
She quickly changed into her clothes from the night before and grabbed a clean set, ready to hit the showers and eager to get on the road. But when she pushed open the camper door, the first thing she saw was the cowboy who’d rescued her the night before. He was obviously headed for the showers, a towel draped around his neck.
When he didn’t look her way, she breathed a sigh of relief and ducked into the camper. Ignoring the clippity-clop of her heart, she waited until she felt safe to leave.
She wasn’t interested in a cowboy, couldn’t be, even if he was the current leading saddle bronc rider in the country and sexy as sin, to boot. She knew all about his kind. She’d met too many “my way or no way” cowboys. Hadn’t she proven she could do it alone? Besides, rodeoers ended up on ranches. She wanted desperately to leave the past and that kind of life behind. Nothing would stop her. And she didn’t need anyone’s help. The sooner she got on the road, the sooner she could put some distance between herself and one particular, bossy cowboy.
Chapter Two
Bleary-eyed from too little sleep, Chace let the stinging spray of the primitive shower near the arena clear the fog from his brain. To his disgust, his sharper mind left him with vivid memories of the night before.
“Hell,” he muttered when his body began to spring to life. He’d spent half the night listening for the clang of a bell and the other half considering a cold shower. There were other remedies for his problem. One idea, which included hauling a particular petite package into his arms, he promptly discarded. Reviewing every millisecond of his latest ride in his mind would be safer. And damn sure more productive.
Dressed again and whistling an off-key tune, he started for his truck. As soon as Ray returned with a thermos of coffee, they’d be on the road. With barely a month to go until the official end of the season, Chace was eager to get to Phoenix. After that, only a few more rodeos until National Finals. Then, if everything went well, he could retire. The money he hoped to win would keep the Triple B Ranch in the black and put an end to worrying about losing it. That, and stop his youngest brother’s plans to turn the family spread into a dude ranch. Hell, he didn’t want strangers traipsing all over the place.
Once back home again, he could begin to make up for leaving Trey to deal with the ranch on his own. Maybe they’d even get lucky enough to entice their brother, Dev, to come home. Working together, they could keep it out of the wrong hands and make the place the successful ranch it had once been. Four generations of Brannigans had owned and worked the Triple B, and he and his brothers had fought to keep it after their father’s death. He knew he belonged there. He’d ducked his responsibilities for too long.
Wide awake, and with his hormones under control and well leashed, Chace didn’t bother to steer clear of Ellie’s camper. But he didn’t expect to find temptation in a tank top as she leaned over to hook her horse trailer to her pickup, offering him a much better glimpse than the pajama top had the previous night.
“Hell and damnation,” he grumbled, knowing that’s exactly what he was in for if she didn’t straighten up and change the view.
To his relief, she moved, but only to the opposite side of the trailer hitch, giving him an eyeful of worn denim stretched tight across the best-looking little backside he’d seen in a long time. It was even better without the pajama horses galloping across it. The sight pulled a tortured groan from him. If he had any sense, he’d turn around and walk back to his truck and forget all about it. But his feet wouldn’t move away any faster than his eyes.
As he watched her wrestle with the coupling, he clenched his hands into fists. He had to do something besides stand there with his tongue hanging out like a panting dog. When she gave the bumper an angry kick, he moved into action.
“I’ll get it,” he growled.
Her head jerked up, her eyes wide but narrowing as he closed the gap between them. “I can do it,” she announced, giving him her back and bending over again.
Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead when he stopped behind her. All he had to do was take hold of those mind-blowing curves and pull her up against him. He placed his hands on her hips, but forced himself to scoot her aside. “Let me do it.”
“It’s my rig,” she said in a tight voice from behind him while he gave the hitch a nudge.
“And it’ll be your smashed fingers,” he replied, snapping the ball cover in place. He turned to find her slipping into a faded chambray shirt and noticed her hands tremble as she fought the buttons.
Anger? He hoped not. He wanted to have the same effect on her that she had on him. It would serve her right.
With her head down and her face hidden from view, her fingers fumbled with the last button. “I’ve been managing my own truck and trailer for almost ten years, since I was old enough to drive. I’ve hooked them up thousands of times.”
He detected a tremor in her voice, but when her head came up and she looked at him, he saw the flash of defiance in her eyes. Damn, she was one stubborn woman.
“Look, Brannigan, I appreciate what you did for me last night, but I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Just let me get loaded and on the road.” She did a quick pivot and marched to untie her horse from the back of a nearby truck.
He moved out of her way and leaned back against the side of the trailer, watching in silence as she loaded her horse into her trailer with the skill of a seasoned professional. Maybe she didn’t need his help now, but without it the night before, no telling what she would have done. Her gentle handling of her horse proved she wasn’t as tough as she might want him to believe. And the stubborn tilt of her chin as she stomped past him to the cab of her truck didn’t erase the memory of the terror he’d seen in her eyes the previous night. It only aggravated him.
He stalked to the truck’s door, reaching it as she slammed it shut with such force it could have registered on the Richter Scale. Planting his hands on the edge where the window was rolled down, he leaned in, his face inches from hers. “You may not want my help, but you sure as hell need it.”
A red flush flooded her cheeks, and her chin went up another notch. “Get your face out of my truck,” she said in a haughty tone.
“Now look here, little bit, I got rid—”
“Don’t!” The crimson shade of her face went deathly pale. Tears glistened in her dark eyes, and she squeezed them shut. “Don’t ever call me that.”
Reaching in, he cradled her cheek in his hand. “Aw, hon, I didn’t mean to—”
“Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Please.” When her lids fluttered open, she turned her head, slipping away from him, and she reached for the ignition. Gunning the motor, she slammed the truck into gear, spewing dirt behind her tires and nearly taking his head and hand with her.
Chace stood staring after her. What the hell had he done? Was his touch so repulsive to her? No, it hadn’t been that. He’d felt her lean into his palm, felt her tremble in his hand. Then dammit, why would she shake him off like water on a wet dog?
He made his way to his own truck and trailer, cursing himself for caring when she obviously wasn’t interested. He’d forget about her by the time he got to Phoenix.
But once on the road, he found it harder than he’d thought to rid himself of her reaction to his touch and his body’s response. Five hundred miles later, with Ray jabbering away the entire trip, Chace wished he’d asked her where she’d be riding next. He had a few questions, when and if he caught up with her. And he’d damn well get some answers.
Ellie pulled her rig in behind the arena near Phoenix just after noon on Friday. She’d made good time, but a week on the road, even though she hadn’t rushed, left her exhausted. Sometimes it was more tiring than the competing.
Each weekend she competed somewhere, earning or not earning enough to place among the top fifteen money winners by the end of the season. Only those placing qualified for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, held the first week of each December. As soon as she finished in Phoenix, she’d head for Austin to do the same thing again. And again, until she hopefully made it to Finals. There would be a month break before that first week in December, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. This time she couldn’t avoid going home.
Home. Ellie sighed and climbed out of her pickup to check on Sky Dancer, thinking of that long month in Oklahoma looming ahead. The thought brought back the old panic and guilt. But she didn’t have a choice. She loved her two brothers and wanted to see them both happy. And safe. Alive and not old before their time. It would take getting them off the ranch to do that. And that meant selling the place, no matter what they thought they wanted. She knew best. Now that she had a prospective buyer, she only had to convince Matt and Brett to sign the papers.
After securing her camper with the new lock she’d had installed, she took Sky Dancer out of the trailer. Her boots kicked up dust in the dry grass as she worked. Rain had been scarce in the area, but from previous experience she knew the arena was well tended. She could concentrate on her riding.
She saddled and bridled Sky Dancer to give him some exercise and herself a welcome break from being behind the wheel. Seeing Reba and Nate’s truck and trailer pull into the lot, she reminded herself to stop on the way back to say howdy. Rodeoers were like a close-knit family. But after spending over half her life competing, she wanted a change—new faces, new experiences. That was for the future. All she wanted for the moment was to relax and ease the knots from her shoulders. Her ride tonight wouldn’t be worth spit if she couldn’t loosen up.
When she’d put enough distance between herself and the parking area, she urged Sky Dancer into a gallop. It should have done the trick, but she couldn’t get a particular cowboy out of her mind. The touch of his hand on her cheek had brought a comfort she’d almost forgotten existed, until she’d realized how weak and vulnerable it made her. She couldn’t allow it. She’d been on her own since raising her brothers— a job she’d finished without help from anyone. She couldn’t start needing someone now, not when she was so close.
By the time she returned to the campgrounds, it was well past two. Hoping to catch Reba, she guided Sky Dancer to the Tuckers’ trailer.
Before she could dismount, Reba appeared in the doorway. “You made good time.”
“How was Laura?”
“Busy.” Reba wiped her hands on her jeans and frowned. “Timmy and little Sally were stayin’ with friends, and the new baby was colicky. Wouldn’t even let me hold him.”
Ellie felt her friend’s disappointment. “Next time he’ll be better.”
With a hopeful smile Reba dug into her pockets and sighed when her hands came up empty. “I’m out of ice, and I always have a glass of cold tea ready for Nate ’fore he heads out for the evenin’. Would you mind gettin’ me a bag at the concession stand?”
“Not at all,” Ellie replied.
“Let me fetch some money.” Reba ducked back inside.
While Ellie waited, the area filled with a variety of vehicles, and she waved to the people she recognized. When a hand rested on her thigh, she nearly bolted from her saddle, spooking Sky Dancer and forcing her to concentrate on calming him.
“Get the door fixed?” a deep, familiar voice asked.
Her heartbeat accelerated as she turned to look down at Chace Branningan. “Are you following me?”
His grin was enough to melt the polar ice cap. “Nope. Didn’t know we were destined to run into each other so soon.”
“Disappointed?” she asked, and watched an assortment of emotions cross his face.
Pure devilment won out to dance in his eyes. “Miss me?”
Ellie wasn’t about to admit she’d thought of little else other than him and the sale of the ranch over the six days she’d spent on the road. “I completely forgot we met.”
The light in his eyes flashed, and he shot her a devilish grin. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
“A ten-pound bag shouldn’t be more than—” Reba’s voice halted, and Ellie turned in the saddle to look at her. Her gray-eyed gaze drifted to Chace and back again to Ellie, and her mouth turned up in a Cheshire Cat smile. “I’ll get the ice.”
“No,” Ellie said in a rush and turned to scowl at Chace. “Mr. Brannigan was just leaving.” Having Reba see them together, no matter how innocent, was a bad idea. No telling what the woman might get in her head.
“Haven’t seen you for a while, Chace,” Reba said, her grin widening. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.
He looked at Ellie and offered another knee-weakening grin before turning back to Reba. “I had the pleasure of meeting her last week in Cedar Rapids.”
“Really? In that case, why don’t I fix us all lunch tomorrow and you can get better acquainted. Say at noon?”
With a grin, he touched the brim of his hat. “That sounds mighty fine.”
Ellie shot her friend a murderous look. He was the last person she wanted to spend time with. “I’ll be there if I can make it,” she hedged. “Keep your money, Reba. I’ll get the ice.”
Without a glance at Chace, she nudged her horse toward the concession stand. Behind her, she could hear his soft chuckle, and she tightened her grip on the reins. Her day had taken a turn for the worst when he’d shown up. She hadn’t expected to see him again, and with the season nearly over, the thought had both cheered and disappointed her. That alone was enough to worry her.
Her wait in line at the concession stand was blessedly short, and she added two candy bars, knowing Reba’s penchant for chocolate.
Balancing the bag of ice on the saddle horn in front of her with one hand and holding the reins in the other, she wove her way through the gathering groups toward the Tuckers’ trailer. She called a greeting over her shoulder to one of the other barrel racers, wishing her luck, and turned back when Sky Dancer came to a sudden halt.
Chace stood at the horse’s head, holding the bridle and murmuring to the animal. Ellie opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, but when he looked at her, the words escaped her.
“Trying to avoid me?”
She knew she lacked the subtlety of most women, and his question brought the heat of embarrassment to her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.”
Smoothing his hand along the horse’s neck, Chace moved closer, never taking his eyes from hers. “What did I do to scare you off?”
Lifting her chin, she gripped the saddle horn and squeezed the ice, barely noticing the chill. It wasn’t him that scared her, but what he did to her. She’d never met a man who could scramble her senses with a simple smile. And she’d met plenty of men, rodeo being a predominantly male sport. But no matter how much Chace made her nerves tingle and her mind go blank with just a look, he wasn’t the man for her. She’d sworn off cowboys long ago. If she ever settled down, it wouldn’t be with a vagabond rodeoer.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“But you don’t like me much.” His frown was formidable but didn’t mask his puzzlement.
The confusion in his eyes tugged at her heart. “I really don’t know you, so how can I tell?”
“We can fix that.”
The air around her thickened, and her heart pounded. He hadn’t moved, but somehow he seemed closer. There was nothing worse than a cowboy who couldn’t take a hint, she reminded herself. And she’d done more than hint at him. She hated being rude, but he brought out the worst in her, stirring her up and leaving her with no choice.
Her hands shaking, she gathered the reins to leave, and the ice started to topple. Before she could react, Chace made a grab for it and settled it in the crook of his arm.
When she reached down to snatch it away, he took her hand and placed it on the horn, covering it with his. “If you weren’t in such an all-fired hurry to get away from me…”
Ellie held her breath, ready to deny she wanted to avoid him, but with his hand on hers she couldn’t find the words.
Letting go, he drew back and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know what it is, little bit, but I intend to find out.”
Opening her mouth to ask him what he meant, she froze at the sound of the nickname he’d called her again and squeezed her eyes shut. A vision of her dad lifting her onto a pony flashed through her mind. She swallowed, forcing back the memory that still caused a deep pain. It would only lead to more memories she couldn’t deal with. “I told you not to call me that.”
His hand returned to hers. “It slipped out. But you are—”
“Don’t.” She opened her eyes to see him studying her.
“You don’t like anybody pointing out that you’re on the small side?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. Call me shrimp, call me shorty, call me tiny. Just don’t call me…that.”
Chace tipped his head to one side before removing his hand. “Okay. If you promise to be there tomorrow for lunch at Reba’s.”
She bit back a scathing retort at his persistence. “You don’t give up, do you?”
He shrugged and looked off in the distance. “You were the one who said you didn’t know me well enough to know if you liked me. I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends.”
Ellie knew of plenty. One in particular. A big one. But she couldn’t tell him that it was because of the heat he caused to pool in the area of her body closest to the saddle horn. “I guess there isn’t,” she fibbed.
“Good. Give it your best tonight.” He handed her the ice and touched Sky Dancer on his rump, sending them on their way.
Sky Dancer shied as they circled the back of Reba’s trailer. Ellie quickly regained control, but wondered if he’d needed a longer run.
“I was beginning to worry.”
J. R. Staton was walking toward her, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her real estate agent. Handing him the ice, she offered a smile. “Give this to Reba while I tie up, would you?”
“I’ve had a new offer for the ranch,” he said before turning to walk around the corner of the trailer, out of sight.
Ellie made quick work of sliding off her horse and making sure he was tethered, then she looked around to make sure Chace wasn’t anywhere in sight. She didn’t want to have to deal with him right now. This was far more important.
Talking about the sale, especially if it involved more money for her brothers, was much better than thinking about a wandering cowboy who turned her insides into a blazing bonfire.
The look on Reba’s face when Ellie approached with J.R. was enough to ice down any flames she’d been feeling. Reba didn’t like J.R. and took every opportunity to tell her so. J.R. wasn’t a cowboy—the one thing that raised him in Ellie’s estimation. She hadn’t expected to hear from him, much less see him, until the break before Finals. But now that he was here, she was eager to get the latest news.
“Thanks for gettin’ the ice,” Reba said, taking the bag and planting herself in the doorway.
“It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Tucker,” J.R. said with a pained smiled.
Reba sniffed as she settled more firmly against the doorjamb. “You’re a long way from home.”
Ellie bit back a groan. She could have saved them the awkwardness if she’d known J.R. planned to be in the area.
He met Ellie’s gaze and held it. “I have business in Phoenix, but I wanted to see Ellie first.” He glanced at Reba who stood frowning at him. “To discuss the sale of the ranch, of course.”
When Reba started to reply, Ellie rushed to trample anything she might say. “You said you had a new offer, J.R.?”
He nodded and focused his attention on her. “The buyer has decided the property may be worth more than first assumed. It’s a good offer. I encourage you to accept it.”
When he flashed her a smile, Ellie waited for the same sensations to overtake her that she felt when Chace Brannigan grinned at her. There wasn’t even a twinge. Uneasy with the revelation, she shoved it aside. “All I’m asking is a fair price.”
“We can discuss it further, on the way to your camper.”
Reba looked heavenward and shook her head, giving Ellie the opportunity to escape. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Reba.”
“Noon, for lunch,” her friend called after her, making it sound more like a command than a reminder.
“About the new offer,” Ellie said, as she and J.R. walked to her camper.
He named a figure. She didn’t know what to do. The amount he tossed out so cavalierly was still short of what she hoped to get. If there was the slightest chance that whoever wanted the ranch might go higher, she had to wait. The buyer had given two offers. Wasn’t the third time charmed?
“Maybe the buyer will raise the offer,” she suggested.
He pressed his lips together, and drew his brows down in a concerned frown. “I must caution you not to wait too long. This buyer is interested now. If you don’t make a decision soon…”
“I want to speak with my brothers in person, at the ranch. I’ll know more then.”
His eyebrows arched and he opened his mouth to speak. Instead of saying anything, he closed it and nodded. “I have something for you in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Ellie smiled to herself as she watched him walk away. If she could put him off long enough, she’d have time at the ranch to persuade her brothers to see things her way. In the meantime maybe the buyer would up the price.
She wanted to retire after Finals. Even if she made enough to qualify, it wouldn’t be enough to entice her brothers off the ranch. She had to sell it. But her brothers had to agree to the sale. And she didn’t look forward to telling them about it.
After checking on the horses and making sure his gear would be ready and waiting before his first ride, Chace started out for the stock pens to look over the bronc he’d drawn. A good ride would keep him in the lead. A great one could give him an edge.
His path took him through the thickest of the parking area, and his thoughts, once again, turned to Ellie. He’d hoped she’d be here in Phoenix, but he hadn’t counted on it. There were too many other places to compete. He’d spent most of the day wondering why he wanted to see her again, finally deciding that it was her downright stubbornness to fall for his charm that he found so attractive. What man could walk away from a challenge like that?
He smiled when he thought of the lucky break. But realizing how much it pleased him, he brought himself up short.
Had he gone loco? With four rodeos to go before the end of the season, he didn’t need to form any kind of attachment to a woman. This late in the game, a female was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He’d learned that the hard way, early on in his career, and knew better than to let it happen. He and the other three leaders were so close he couldn’t let up much until after the final ride of the season. Concentration was the key. One slip up, one bad fall because his mind wasn’t fully on his ride, and he might as well kiss his chance at any title goodbye. That wouldn’t help the Triple B. As the oldest, it was his responsibility to see that the ranch prospered. They couldn’t lose it the way they nearly had once. Mistakes and distractions were out of the question.
When he spied Ellie’s pickup and camper to his left, he made a decision. He might be attracted to the miniature ball of fire, but he hadn’t lost his mind. She’d told him flat-out that she didn’t want him around. He’d been fool enough to let his body rule his brains. And he was getting too old to do that. No more. He’d steer clear of her from here on out.
Before he had a chance to backtrack and change his route, he saw Ellie approaching her camper. He stopped in midstride. She wasn’t alone. He had a brief glimpse of a man with her, wearing a white shirt and tie, and carrying a suit coat slung over his shoulder. A cold hard ball of busted pride lodged in Chace’s gut when he saw the bouquet of flowers in her hand. He’d been a bigger fool than he’d thought. She already had a man, and by the look of him, a simple rodeo cowboy would fail to measure up. Even if the cowboy won a dozen National Championships.
Disgusted with himself, Chace dared a last glance at the couple before he moved on to the stock pens. What he saw made his blood run cold, then hot. “Son of a—”
Ellie stood propped against the side of her camper gazing up at the last man he’d expect to see at a rodeo.
“Maybe a little competition from the right man would improve her eyesight.”
Chace spun around to see Reba approaching. He would gladly give James Robert Staton a lot of things, including a shiner he owed him, but he remembered his decision to stay away from Ellie Warren. “Find another man, Reba. I’ve got a double championship to take care of, not a pint-size bundle of fireworks—who doesn’t like me—to tangle with.”
A glance at her told him she would hang on to this crazy idea she had like a dog with an old bone if he didn’t set her straight. Sighing, he shook his head. “Not this time, Reba. You keep this to yourself, but this is my last year. I go out in a blaze of glory or I go out a loser.”
Reba patted his arm with one plump hand. “You’ll never be a loser, Chace Brannigan. It’s not in you. But that man is nothin’ but trouble.”
Chace almost choked on his reply when he saw the object of their conversation reach out to push back a stray strand of Ellie’s hair that had escaped her braid. “What do you mean?”
Reba’s eyes flashed with impatience. “You’re a man. Figure it out.”
Chace didn’t want to consider the implication of her words. Just watching Ellie conjured up an image of rumpled sheets and passion-drenched nights. Everybody else might see her as Ellie, a diminutive tomboy on a horse, taking barrels like the champ she would someday be. But Chace’s eyes and body told him her dynamite temper and obstinate attitude hid something deeper. A passion he hoped to unleash and, at the same time, prayed he wouldn’t.
When he turned around, Reba was gone. He had to make a decision. In spite of his earlier vow to stay away from the little spitfire, he wasn’t about to let the man he’d known as Jimmy Bob since they were kids pull any of his con man tricks on her. Ellie needed protecting. And Chace was the man to do it.
Chapter Three
“What’s wrong?” Ellie asked, when J.R. started to walk away in the middle of their conversation.
He turned back to her with a smile. “I thought I saw someone I know.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied him. “Do you know many rodeo people?”
“One or two. Through business.”
A small shiver of excitement rippled through her. Spending all of her life on the ranch, and then on the circuit, had isolated her from the rest of the world. No matter what she decided to do with herself after she retired, she wanted to see how nonrodeo people lived. And live it herself.
He touched her hand. “I’ll be back to watch you ride. And tomorrow night when you’re finished, we’ll have dinner. But right now I need to get back to business.”
Ellie ignored the fact that her heart didn’t flutter at the physical contact. He had the oddest eyes. Brown, like hers, and almost impossible to read. With most people she knew what they were feeling by looking into their eyes, but his seldom showed emotion. Was he coming on to her?
“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be cheering you on,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
She thanked him and watched him walk away, unsure of what had transpired. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon, and she needed to change before the opening ceremony. She’d never been much for the fancy outfits some of the others wore, but she made concessions, knowing the crowd liked to see the competitors in bright colors. The flashier, the better.
In her camper she stripped off her boots, jeans and shirt and opened the door to her closet. Reaching for her favorite deep-red, fringed shirt, she glanced in the mirror.
She’d never paid much attention to her body and couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a long look at herself. Being smaller than most women, she’d assumed she was still built like a young girl. The image of the woman in front of her gave her a completely different view. To her surprise she had hips, though nothing to brag about. Her larger-than-she’d-thought bust was nothing to write home about, either, but at least she had one. She straightened her shoulders and sucked in a breath. Not bad, she thought. But why hadn’t she ever noticed?
“Because you never had a reason to care, you fool,” she reminded her reflection. She took a step back for a better look. “Would men like this?” She’d had her share of wolf whistles from leering cowboys, but she’d brushed them off as matter-of-fact. That’s the way cowboys were. When they got to know her, most of them treated her the same way her brothers did. None of them had ever had that spark of fire in their eyes that she’d seen in—
She shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way, girl. Don’t even go there.” Thinking of that particular cowboy was dead wrong. Pushy, arrogant and nothing but a rodeoer who’d wander for the rest of his life, Chace was a danger she couldn’t let herself consider.
But why was it him who sent rivulets of heat through her whenever he looked at her? She might not know much about men, and she might not have paid much attention to her blossoming body, but she knew enough about both to know that he was the one who stoked a fire in her. She’d heard of chemistry, of how a woman’s body reacted to some men. But chemistry wouldn’t get her a home in the city and the kind of life she wanted. Chemistry would get her trouble.
Her pristine white bra and panties drew her attention. She remembered seeing fellow barrel racer, Dawn Dawson, in the showers in Memphis. The two of them were the same age, but Dawn had the body of Venus de Milo, and men always followed her around. The woman had peeled off her clothes right in front of Ellie, who had more modesty than she knew what to do with, to reveal jade-green bikini underwear and a matching bra that left little to the imagination.
Is that what makes Dawn’s hips sway from side to side? What gives her such confidence?
Ellie took a step back and studied her reflection. Would fancy underthings help? Not that anyone would see them, of course. But only to know that a secret lay hidden beneath her jeans and shirts…?
It was a thought she pondered for some time.
Chace waited until J.R. had driven away before making his first move. If the weasel was on the scent of something that would gain him more than a few bucks, he wouldn’t waste time. Chace needed to talk to Ellie and find out what she had that Jimmy Bob wanted. Things would only get worse if he put it off.
When the doorknob to her camper turned with ease, he swore under his breath, prepared to give her the blistering lecture she deserved. Hell, she’d already found one snake in there. Did she want to find another, this time with legs?
He wrenched open the door and leaped up the step. “When the hell are you going to—”
Freezing on the spot, his tirade stuck in his throat. Ellie stood less than five feet in front of him dressed in nothing but her unmentionables and looking at him with horror-filled eyes. He couldn’t have stopped his body’s reaction at the sight of her if someone had tossed a bucket of ice water on him. He’d seen women in less, but something about the maidenish look of Ellie did things to him he wouldn’t have imagined.
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Roxann Delaney
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
Отзывы: Пока нет Добавить отзыв
О книге: JUST ONE KISS…Cowboys! Ellie Warren had met enough arrogant men on the rodeo circuit to last her ten lifetimes. She had plans–and they didn′t include a hard-bodied, blue-eyed distraction named Chace Brannigan. But with just one kiss from the bronc-riding champion, Ellie knew her lonely heart threatened her neatly laid plans….As Ellie slipped from his protective embrace, Chace had an overwhelming feeling of needs aching to be fulfilled. But he had promises to keep, and a woman had no place in them. Yet something about Ellie′s solitary goals made him long for things unspoken. Perhaps together they could design a saddle made for two…?