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Authors: Amanda Renee

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BOOK: Blame It on the Rodeo
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A part of her saw the old Shane she’d fallen in love with start to reemerge, but despite his newfound loyalty to her, she also knew the man had tunnel vision when it came to winning the championship. Admittedly, Lexi wasn’t sure what kind of life she’d be able to build with Shane when she was a little jealous of the dream he chased. Truth was, she blamed their demise on the rodeo.

The band invited her to sing a few more songs, and when she finally stepped off the stage with an adrenaline rush and smile of satisfaction, she searched the bar, but Shane still wasn’t anywhere in sight. Not that it mattered. She was perfectly capable of having a nice evening out without Shane Langtry. She’d been doing it for years, but if she was honest with herself, she’d concede that she did enjoy having him around.

Bridgett leaned into her once she was back in the booth. “I assure you he left empty-handed tonight.”

“Bridge, I’m not his keeper.” Lexi pulled her hair up and off her shoulders. “He’s a free man.”

“Oh, please, Shane hasn’t been a free man since you two broke up after high school. Someday you two will get a clue,” Bridgett said.

Kendra set a folded note and two beers on the table and popped the tops off. “Compliments of the man in the tan shirt at the bar.”

The three women turned to look at the stranger. He lifted a hand to wave and tipped his hat as Lexi read his scribble.

“Did you read this?” Lexi asked.

Kendra shook her head.

Lexi’s eyes narrowed as she rose from the booth, grabbed both bottles and honed in on the man.

“Oh, dear, what’s she going to do?” Kendra asked. “Charlie’s going to be ticked off at whatever it is.”

“This isn’t going to be good,” Bridgett replied. “I’ll settle our tab because I have a feeling this night is about to end.”

Weaving in and out of the crowd, Lexi approached the tawny-haired, middle-aged man with a mustache in dire need of a trim. She lifted her hands in front of her, the longnecks dangling from her fingers.

“Did you send these to my table?”

He winked. “I sure did.”

“So you thought it was appropriate to ask—how was it you put it?” Lexi unfolded the note and read it aloud. “For a
redhead-and-brunette sandwich?
Honestly, if that’s the extent of your creativity, I think we’d be incredibly bored.”

“I, uh, I can teach you a few things.” The man leered at her chest, making his greasy hair all the more obvious.

“Really? I can teach you a few things, too.” Lexi winked in return.

“I bet you can.” He openly gave her body a once-over while making a disgusting clicking noise with his tongue. “Where do we start?”

“Lesson one.” Lexi held the beers above his crotch and poured out the contents, then slammed the bottles down on the bar. “Asking a woman and her friend for a threesome is just plain rude.”

“Dammit, Lexi!” Charlie yelled from behind the bar. “Stop pouring drinks on my customers.”

“Sorry, Charlie.” Lexi laughed and headed toward the door.

* * *

S
HANE
SAT
IN
his Jeep and listened to Lexi sing. Standing and staring at her in the middle of a crowded bar sure didn’t do his heart any favors. No, it was safer outside where he wouldn’t be tempted to rush the stage and kiss her in front of the entire town.

Lexi and Bridgett burst through Slater’s double doors laughing hysterically. Unnoticed, he watched them as they walked by. The two women climbed into Lexi’s black Mustang convertible and drove off, their laughter carrying across the parking lot. A man thundered out of the bar behind them, swearing at their car.

Shane ventured a guess at what had happened from the way the man wiped at his jeans. It wasn’t the first time Lexi dumped a drink on someone. He wondered what the poor sap had done to warrant such a response. She had a fiery temper when it came to men and he felt he was to blame for her defensive attitude. The country girl who left for college never returned. In her place was an extremely independent woman with walls so high, no one could possibly scale them—but he would damn sure try.

“What are you doing out here? I thought we were getting a drink.” Clay braced his arms on the roll bar above the Jeep’s passenger seat. “I saw Lexi and Bridgett peel out of here. You look unscathed, so who was her victim?”

“Some guy.” Shane shrugged. “Listen, I’m not up for another round in there tonight. Care to grab something at the Still ’n’ Grill instead?”

“When are you going to admit you’ve never gotten over her?” Clay laughed when Shane tried to take a swing at him. “Hey, I just call ’em as I see ’em. You’ve had two loves in your life. Lexi and the rodeo. Swallow your pride and tell her, because you’ve exhausted the entire female population in town. Literally and figuratively.”

“Okay, Mr. P.I.” Having a private investigator for a best friend made keeping a secret next to impossible. “Here’s a fact for you—she’s not in love with me.”

“Really? Because from where I stand, she never stopped loving you.” Clay looked across the parking lot toward Shelby Street. “Why don’t you go after her and end this insanity? My God, you’ve been celibate for how many months now and don’t tell me it’s because you suddenly have the urge to wait until marriage.”

“I’ve been busy building the school.”

“You’ve been busy pining over Lexi,” Clay flatly stated. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Just about all of Ramblewood was at Jesse and Miranda’s wedding and we all saw the look on both of your faces when you escorted Lexi down that aisle.”

“What do you want me do?” Shane threw his hands in the air. “Knock on her door and say, ‘Hey, Lex, I love you, let’s get married’? She’d annihilate me and you know it.”

“This isn’t an eight-second ride, Shane.” Clay laughed. “You don’t have to charge the woman like a bull out of the chute. But you could up the ante and do something special for her.”

“Like what?” The thought of surprising Lexi piqued Shane’s interest.

“You know her better than I do. You’ll come up with an idea.” Clay playfully punched Shane in the arm. “Come on, let’s head to the Still ’n’ Grill and we’ll try to come up with a plan over a beer.”

Shane doubted one or two surprises would convince Lexi to trust him again, but he’d do almost anything if it meant winning her heart.

Chapter Three

“First day of groundwork, men. I know it’s early but we have a lot to cover today before the ribbon cutting.” Shane led his fifteen students from the bunkhouse after a predawn workout and hearty breakfast they’d prepared together. “Some of you are more experienced than others and some of you don’t have any experience. That’s all right. There’s no ride limit, but I don’t want you to push yourself to the point of injury, either.”

“These are our saddle broncs,” Chase explained, taking over from Shane. “They’re larger than our barebacks. I want to reiterate to everyone that we have zero tolerance for animal abuse. If we even suspect it, you are out of here. We do not condone or authorize the use of cattle prods or sharpened spurs in any rough-stock event. Before you enter any chute here on the ranch, your rowels will be checked, so if they’re sharp, get them off.”

When Shane and Chase designed the monthlong intensive rodeo class, they did it with serious competitors in mind. They offered two monthlong sessions for junior-rodeo children in the summer and more personalized programs for people of all ages the remainder of the year.

Stressing safety first, Ride ’em High! was one of the few schools in the country with a weeklong classroom schedule. They decided to include a grueling conditioning program to ensure the students were in top physical condition. At the ranch’s small fitness center, a trainer met with the students every day and put them through rodeo boot camp to build their core muscles. When the kids left for home, the trainers recommended they join a local fitness center to maintain their strength and flexibility.

“Most of our competition broncs are six to seven years old,” Shane continued. “The ones we’re using today are older and not as feisty. We don’t make these horses buck. It’s a natural instinct and they’re bred to buck. A good portion of the horses you see in competition are there because no one could ride them. Some were untrainable, others are rescues.

“Hunter, you’re up.” Shane waved the boy to the front. “We’re starting off this morning with some saddle work.”

Shane proceeded to explain the difference between saddle bronc and bareback rigging, then introduced the local college kids, home for the summer, who had volunteered to check riggings and help the students.

A saddle had been set on a large barrel attached to a wide base for training purposes. Hunter climbed on and set his boots high in the stirrups. With pointed toes, he rocked his hips slightly and squared his shoulders with the saddle. He gripped the thick braided rein and held it out over the center of the saddle swells, his other hand up in the air as if he were swearing on a stack of bibles.

“Tuck your chin a little.” Shane pointed to the hole between the swells and the seat. “Look here the entire time. Visualize setting your spurs above the horse’s shoulders. Raise your legs and tighten your abs.”

Shane ran through the steps of riding a saddle bronc, amazed at the ease Hunter exhibited in every movement. Many of the kids reminded Shane of himself at that age. Determined, confident and willing to do anything to fulfill their dreams of turning pro. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would have felt training Dylan.

“My abs are about to give out!” Hunter yelled through his last mock ride.

“You’re working your core.” Shane placed a hand on his shoulder to still him. “This is why we’re working you so hard on the stabilizing platform and the vertical leg raises. A weak core will get you thrown. Great job, Hunter. Who’s next?”

“This is one of the toughest events to master,” Chase said. “But I promise you, after this workout you will feel muscles you didn’t think you had and you’ll thank us for it.”

Everyone took their turn, including Chase, who admitted he liked the barrel for an alternative abdominal workout.

“You must synchronize every moment with the horse in order to get the most fluid ride possible.” Shane shrugged on his own vest. “And if you don’t mark your ride, you won’t receive a score. To mark, your heels must touch the horse’s shoulders at the first jump from the chute.”

Shane hopped the fence and made his way to the chute, where a horse waited. Measuring his hack rein over the back of the horse, he grabbed hold of the thick braided rope and slid into the saddle, placing his feet all the way into the stirrups. Lifting up his rein hand, he nodded and the gate opened.

On the saddle bronc, in the middle of the arena, was the only place he could completely forget about the past and concentrate on the moment.

* * *

L
EXI
AWOKE
BEFORE
the first rooster crowed. You wouldn’t find anyone sleeping in at the Lawsons’ house. Sixth-generation farmers, they were champing at the bit to start their day long before the sun came up. Lexi’s younger brother, Nash, maintained the petting zoo animals while their father, uncle and cousins tended the fields. Her mother and aunt ran the market and gift store.

Situated right off the interstate, the 130-acre farm dated back to 1820. The original barn had been converted into a retail market and gourmet kitchen in the early fifties, catering to tourists as they drove through the state. Lexi’s sister Mazie learned to cook in that kitchen, leading her to open the Bed & Biscuit in the center of town.

The Lawsons gave visitors the true farm experience, from the petting zoo to fresh picked produce, some of which the customers were allowed to harvest themselves. Strawberry and pumpkin season filled the fields with people, but the two-acre corn maze around Halloween drew the biggest crowds.

The horses were Lexi’s domain. Before showering, she headed down to the barn and fed the family’s handful of horses. Once she checked her schedule for the day, she saddled Autumn’s Secret and surveyed the property. Their morning and evening routine allowed Lexi to escape from the rest of the world.

Robert Smith Surtees wrote, “There is no secret so close as that between a rider and his horse.”
The quote had inspired the name of her mare, which she helped foal on the Langtrys’ farm the first fall she returned from Cornell. Seeing how much Lexi was enamored with the horse, Joe Langtry bestowed the mare upon her—a little assurance she’d stay in town. She trained Autumn herself, and while man’s best friend worked for some, horses bore Lexi’s secrets, and she was confident they wouldn’t be shared.

Lexi swung by the Magpie for a cup of coffee since she had to wait for the Critter Care animal hospital to open its doors. Shorted on tetanus vaccines in yesterday’s shipment, she needed to borrow a few doses for the pregnant mares due to foal in the next six weeks. Lexi had had more problems of late with her supplier and needed Ashleigh to research a new one before the week’s end.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” Charlie Slater said from the corner table.

“Take a number,” Lexi replied while Bridgett waited for her to order, doing little to keep a straight face. “If Maggie’s made any banana nut muffins today, I’ll have one of those and a large coffee, extra hot in case I have to pour it on some unsuspecting patron.”

“If you’re going to chase my customers off, you can’t come around the Mill anymore.” Charlie never referred to his own last name when talking about his bar.

“Bridge, make mine to go.” Pulling a few bills out of her pocket, she handed them to her friend. “I’ll cover Charlie’s breakfast to make up for the one, possibly two, beers that rude boy might’ve ordered. Oh, wait, that’s right, he did order them—and wore them.”

“If you don’t tell Charlie what that guy wanted the other night, I will.” Bridgett gave Lexi her change. “You were justified.”

“I don’t want you buying my breakfast.” Charlie swiveled to face her. “I want you to stop assaulting people. One of these days, you’re going to start a riot. That man was furious.”

“Let him think what he wants.” Lexi shrugged. “I’m sure there was a time or two that I dumped a drink on someone for lesser reasons. Let it go.”

“If you say so.” Bridgett placed a muffin in a white paper bag and handed Lexi her order. “I’ll catch up with you at the ribbon cutting this afternoon.”

Lexi stopped by Charlie’s table on her way out. “People bought more drinks when I got on that stage than they did all night with Elvis playing the same drivel he plays every Saturday. I did you a favor, so the way I see it, we’re even. Trust me when I say, you don’t want his kind around there.”

A few minutes later Lexi pulled into the animal hospital’s parking lot. She knew Mazie probably saw her from the kitchen window of the Bed & Biscuit next door and would want to talk. When the old Victorian went up for sale a few years ago, Mazie realized its proximity to the animal hospital and the bark park would attract future clients by catering to their pets’ every need.

Checking her watch, Lexi knew fifteen minutes wasn’t enough time to visit with her sister. She loved Mazie, but her propensity to chat for hours wore thin when Lexi had a packed day ahead of her. Relieved when she saw Dr. Cerf park his SUV, she quickly picked up the vaccines and headed to Bridle Dance.

Lexi’s cell phone rang.

“Good morning, Mazie,” Lexi said without even looking at the caller ID.

“You should have stopped in. I’m pulling one of your favorites out of the oven right now. Spinach and mushroom frittata. Do you have time to turn around and have a little breakfast? We haven’t had a chance to really talk in a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry, my schedule is super tight today.” Lexi turned off the main road. “I have a lot to do before the ribbon cutting, but I promise we’ll catch up there. I love you, sis, but right now, I do have to go.”

Lexi dropped the phone on the seat next to her and rolled her shoulders to ease the stress she felt starting to build. She loved her job, but some days, the constant running between ranches wore thin.

The rearing bronze horse statues at the entrance to Bridle Dance glinted in the morning light. The fully expanded foliage of the pecan trees shaded the entire length of the dirt road, while puddles of water formed near their trunks from the ranch’s buried drip irrigation. Lexi’s father had helped Joe Langtry design the system to maintain constant water levels during the summer dry spells.

A white canopy stood off to the side of the new equine facility in preparation for the afternoon ceremony. The massive building with beige siding sat behind a series of corrals used for the rodeo school. The rear of the building incorporated secluded pastures for hippotherapy use. In front of the double carriage-house-inspired entrance, two statues were draped in dark cloth and tied at the bottom, waiting for their unveiling in a few hours.

Local cowboys gathered around the nearest round pen. “When are you going to marry me, Lexi?” one of them called out to her.

“When you’re old enough to shave,” she hollered back.

“I’m twenty-one. I’m legal.” The other men egged him on. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“You boys go on.” Nicolino waved them off. “Good morning, Lexi. Will you be at the grand opening today? Ella was talking about you this morning, saying how long it’s been since she’s seen you.”

Shouts came from within one of the corrals. With a quick nod in her direction, Shane sat atop a bareback and raised his arm in the air to signal the chute gate to open. Bucking wildly, man and horse twisted and turned through the dust-filled eight-second ride. With all the flair and skill he’d exhibit in a competitive event, Shane grabbed his pickup man as he rode by and dismounted with the grace of a gymnast, bowing her way.

Lexi shook her head and redirected her attention to Nicolino. Starting out as a ranch hand fresh from Italy when Lexi was in grade school, the newcomer had barely spoken a word of English when Joe hired him. He’d grown to be a part of their family and married Kay’s niece Ella Slater, the eldest daughter of her brother Charlie. Five kids and two loyal decades later, Cole had promoted him to general operations manager in January. Raised in the
butteri
cowboy tradition, he opted to wear heavy cotton pants and a wide-brimmed hat instead of chaps and a Stetson. The mazzarella staff he carried was used to threaten unruly teenagers more than it was to herd the horses.

“I’ll be there.” Lexi looked in the stalls. “I have a couple of mares to vaccinate and some paperwork to fill out here, then I’ll return after making my rounds.”

“Don’t you want to stick around and see the show Shane’s putting on for you?” Nicolino feigned shock that she’d dare leave in the middle of such an event.

“Eh, you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

Nicolino’s laughter followed her through the open doors.

Rivaling the size of a football field, the country French stone-and-stucco facility featured Craftsman-style windows and timber archways. A ground-level covered walkway with exposed rafters encircled the building. A large second-story cupola was perched atop the center of the sand-colored structure and housed the ranch’s main office, while miniature cupolas lined the roof on either side, allowing extra light to filter through to the stalls below.

Joe Langtry had called the building his horse mansion. A better description didn’t exist in Lexi’s mind. Grooms and trainers hurried about, placing the finishing touches on everything before today’s events.

Lexi made her way down the exposed timber interior hallway. Horse stalls with full-height mahogany-stained doors and bars prevented cribbing or chewing. Otherwise the horses could gnaw on the wood and wear down their teeth or cause colic and stomach ulcers.

Not wanting to waste time today with so much to do, she plucked her phone from her pocket and called Billy. “Vaccination lesson today. Meet me in the office so I can show you the forms and then we’ll check on Crystal.”

Crystal was carrying Joe Langtry’s dream baby. Dam Tenny Bay and sire King’s Obsession were two of the highest earners in cutting horse competition. Bridle Dance didn’t own either horse, but Joe had arranged the match before his death last year. Determined to see the surrogacy all the way through, the Langtry family had continued with Joe’s plans and were anxiously anticipating the foal’s arrival. It was the very last project Joe set in motion, and eleven months later, the day was almost upon them.

BOOK: Blame It on the Rodeo
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