Taking the Bull by the Horns (2 page)

"Okay, I'm going to ask Angelina if you're a boy or a girl. She'll paw the ground twice if you're a girl and once if you're a boy. Got it?"

"Got it!” the class chorused.

Taylor released Angelina to rejoin Esmi. “Okay, Angelina. Is Esmi a boy or girl?"

Angelina lifted her front hoof and struck the packed earth twice. The children oohed. Esmi grinned and melted back into the class. Taylor beckoned to a boy, Michael, who took Esmi's place, his finger in his mouth. So Taylor was good at noticing the shy ones. Lavender tried not to be impressed.

Angelina repeated her trick accurately four times before the class grew restless, attention wandering.

So Taylor crooked a finger at Lavender. She picked her way through the class, wary of his intention. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. She winced in embarrassment as his fingers sank into the softness of her flesh. Like he couldn't tell from looking that she was a little on the fluffy side.

"Okay, Angelina,” he said when he had Lavender positioned where he wanted her. “Boy or girl?"

Angelina lifted her head and whinnied. The children screeched and covered their ears, like they weren't louder.

Taylor laughed. “See? She said, ‘Woman.’”

Lavender laughed, too. It had sounded like Angelina had said “Woman.” How often did he use that trick to pick up girls?

She patted the side of Angelina's neck. “Okay, children, we need to let Mr. Craig get back to whatever he needs to do to get ready for the rodeo. Tell him thank you."

The children did, then she did, quietly, not meeting his gaze, though she wanted to. He didn't move when she walked away—she was very aware of that—but didn't look back to see if he was watching her.

"Miss Prouty."

Now she had to turn back or appear rude.

"I hear Cranky Hank's barbecue is pretty good. Any truth to that?"

She smiled. “Not that there are a lot of choices around here, but yeah, it's pretty good."

"So what time is school out?” He nodded toward her retreating class.

"What?” He couldn't be asking ... could he? She certainly couldn't answer the way she wanted.

He took a step toward her, letting out the lead rope so Angelina stayed back, his gaze intent on her. “I don't like to eat alone."

She just bet he didn't. He probably never had to. Except tonight.

"Thanks for being so good to my kids.” She backed away, though every nerve in her screamed to say yes. Her brain chided those eager hormones.
He'll just leave you like everyone else. Is it worth it?
To which her hormones, looking at his hands and his mouth screamed,
Yes!
But as always, Lavender listened to her brain. Easier not to get hurt that way. She turned from Taylor. “Good luck to you and Angelina."

"Miss Prouty, I'm asking you out to dinner,” he said, still pursuing.

Her face heated. Why her? She pushed back her hair self-consciously. He was handsome, and younger than her, enough that he was no doubt aware of it. And with her round face and ass, her straw-straight hair, well, she couldn't be his regular type. God knew he wasn't hers.

Even if he was, he'd be gone by Monday and she just didn't have the resources to be left again.

"Sorry, Mr. Craig."

The glint in his eyes dimmed at the regret in her tone. He touched the brim of his hat and turned away.

"Thanks again,” she was compelled to call after him, then hurried after her class.

Taylor pulled his F-150 into the school parking lot just before three. Apparently school had just let out because little kids milled in front of the building. And there on the steps, arms crossed over her red T-shirt, blonde hair whipping in her face, stood Lavender.

He could have found another dinner partner—the buckle bunnies had descended on the fairgrounds even though the rodeo was two days out. But Jesus, since he was fourteen, females had thrown themselves at him. For a time, he'd eaten it up like sugar. And like sugar it had grown old, though not fast enough. Still, the effect was long lasting, and now a woman who shied away, who blushed when he looked at her, captured his attention. He hadn't known women did that anymore.

Chasing a woman for a change would feel good. With Lavender, he'd have that chance. He pushed open the truck door and got out slowly, watching her. He'd liked how she was with her class, liked her sense of humor, liked her shy smile.

Look at that. She'd seen him and turned as red as her T-shirt. He grinned and straightened to his full height, tucking his hands in his pockets. She hurried down the steps and across the yard to the parking lot.

He reached into the truck, his movements languid, and plucked the little straw hat off the dashboard.

"What are you doing here?” she asked, very schoolteacher-ish, her posture stiff.

He held the hat out to her, his hand spanning the small crown. “Aaron left this.” He turned the hat over to show her the boy's name on the sweatband.

Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes went soft. “Oh, thank goodness! He was ready to cry thinking he'd lost this.” She took the hat and pressed it over her breasts like a shield. “And you deliver lost and found items in your free time?"

"Just when I know where to find the owner.” He glanced toward the school. “Or maybe not."

"He's going to appreciate this so much. I'll run out to his home to give it to him."

Surprise tugged his lips into a smile. “You deliver lost and found items in your free time?” he echoed.

She lowered her lashes. “He was really upset. You'll be his hero for bringing this back."

Taylor stepped back and yanked open the stiff driver's side door. “Then let me go with you to deliver it."

Her hesitation was appealing as hell, indecision clouding her eyes, the desire to agree, her battle against the desire. She looked over her shoulder at three other teachers standing on the school steps, watching her with open curiosity, and her shoulders stiffened again.

She turned back to him. “That would make Aaron very happy."

Taylor was fairly certain that wasn't her whole reason for agreeing. She started around the hood toward the passenger side door.

"That door doesn't open from the outside."

Her brows winged up in surprise, but she came back around and ducked under his arm to climb in. He slid in beside her. Nervously she fumbled with the buckle of the seat belt. He leaned over to take the buckle from her and clicked it home. His knuckles rested on her hip for a moment, just long enough for her to draw in a breath in awareness. He lifted his gaze to hers, saw the longing, the regret. Why was she so determined to keep him at a distance?

Why was he so determined to close it?

She swallowed and he eased back to start the truck.

"Tell me where to go."

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The twenty minute drive over caliche roads passed in rapid-fire conversation that made Taylor feel like he'd been hit by a dust devil. Only a few questions got her talking, but mostly about her class. She talked a mile a minute about “her kids,” and grew more animated, but the way she jittered in her seat and messed with her hair told him she hadn't really relaxed. Talking about her class was just another shield.

Still, he liked listening to her lightning-fast voice, the snap of her Texas accent. And while she was talking, he didn't have to talk about himself, or come up with a lie about his past.

Following her directions, he pulled in front of a low ranch house that had seen better days. From the activity around the place—animals, bright plastic kid toys—he figured the neglect was based more on low priority than low funds. Behind the wooden fence, two kids smaller than Aaron raced around, and a pretty young woman stood watching the truck, her hands on her hips.

Taylor shoved at his door and it creaked open. Yeah, he could afford a better truck, but right now he needed to stay below the radar. Driving up to a small town rodeo in a brand new Dually would get him attention he didn't want, not yet.

He stepped out, aware of the young mother's eyes on him, and reached a hand in to Lavender. She paused, then took it, her hand small and soft, and she scooted across the vinyl seat, holding onto the hat.

He didn't let go of her hand when her feet hit the ground, instead rubbing his thumb over it, letting himself wonder what it would feel like on his body. She tugged it free and walked around the open door to the gate.

"Hey, Monica,” Lavender said, her voice bright.

Monica smiled in return and opened the gate in welcome. “What are you doing out here, Lavender?"

"Taylor here found Aaron's hat.” Lavender held the hat out and inclined her head in introduction.

Behind Monica, the screen door slammed and Aaron darted out, charging straight for his hat. He snatched it from Lavender with a whoop, and turned to Taylor, who'd come up beside her and leaned his forearms on the fence. Little eyes widened.

"Hey there, Mr. Craig. You want to see my pony?"

Taylor straightened. “Yeah, sure, if that's okay with your mom."

Monica lifted a shoulder, her cheeks dimpling, eyelashes lowering. “Sure. Aaron told me all about your horse, Mr. Craig. He's bound and determined to teach his pony some tricks now. Don't be too much of a pest, Aaron."

Lavender opened her mouth, then closed it again as Aaron grasped Taylor's hand and tugged him toward the barn.

Once the males had walked out of hearing range, Monica turned to Lavender with one eyebrow raised. Lavender resisted the urge to speak, knowing any word would pop Monica's bubble of curiosity and all her questions would spill out.

As it was, she lasted maybe a minute, her gaze darting from Lavender to Taylor's retreating form.

"Aaron told me you met a cowboy, but he didn't tell me
you
met a cowboy."

Lavender fought the blush she felt creeping up her throat. Of course it looked odd, her coming out here with Taylor.

"I told him how happy Aaron would be to get his hat back, and he offered to drive."

Monica considered her another moment. “Okay. You could have told him how to get here."

"Because it's so easy for a stranger to find this place?"

Monica swung her youngest daughter up on her hip and expertly dodged a sticky nuzzle. “It's not that hard."

"It wouldn't be if your stubborn father-in-law would let them put up street signs."

Monica tugged a wipe out of her back pocket and swiped it across her daughter's face without looking before setting the child down again. “Why are you so defensive? Honey, it's about damn time you got laid."

Lavender didn't even try to control the rush of blood this time. Even if it looked like she was interested in Taylor, who was to say he would be interested in her? Or that she'd open herself up to getting hurt like that?

Monica backed off then. “How's Gertrude?"

Great. As if she wasn't churned up enough, Monica had to mention her grandmother, who was no doubt wondering where the hell she was.

"She's good. She has her days, you know."

"I bet you'll be glad for summer, so you won't have to worry about her while you're at work."

No, she'd just have to be at her beck and call twenty-four hours a day. Lavender closed her eyes a moment and pushed back the resentment. Giving into that emotion didn't do either her or her grandmother any good.

"It will be good not to worry,” Lavender admitted.

"Have you heard from your mom?"

Not in years. “Not in awhile."

"I wonder where she's landed now. I always liked her. She was so colorful, you know? She had so many neat experiences, she was always so brave, never afraid to try new things, go new places. I was always so jealous of you."

Lavender wondered how jealous she was now that Lavender was living the life of a spinster and Monica had three little kids and a husband who adored her. Sure, her mother was ready to try new things, anything that wouldn't keep her in one place too long. She hadn't been able to wait to shake the dirt of this town off her sandals, even if it meant leaving her fifteen-year-old daughter to take care of her mother after Gertrude's stroke. Every now and then her mother would come back into town just long enough to stir up that resentment again.

"Maybe we'd better go see what Aaron has got Taylor doing,” Lavender suggested.

The two women strolled toward the barn. Monica never had been in a hurry to do anything. They stepped inside the barn to see Aaron holding his pony's lead in the center of the barn, Taylor crouching at the pony's flank, the animal's left hoof in the palm of his hand, his other hand pointing at Aaron. He let the hoof fall and Aaron said, “One!” Taylor picked up the hoof again, repeated the action, and Aaron crowed, “Two!"

They reached five before they noticed the women standing behind them. Taylor straightened, wiping his hands down his thighs.

"I hope that's all right, ma'am,” he said to Monica. “She's a good animal, she won't hurt him."

"He's been around horses his whole life.” Monica looked past him to her son, who crouched and tried to lift the pony's foot. “It won't be the last time he's stepped on."

"Remember how I showed you,” Taylor called over his shoulder. “Pinch her fetlock. Not too hard, just to show her who's boss."

Aaron apparently pinched, because the pony lifted her foot docilely.

Lavender watched Taylor with an ache in her chest. Those danged weaknesses revisited her when he met her gaze and winked. She had to get away from him, now, or nothing but pain would be in store for her.

"We should get back,” she said.

He considered her a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.” He touched his hat in Monica's direction. “Ma'am. I hope y'all come out to the rodeo this weekend and watch me ride."

Monica dimpled again. “What event are you in, Taylor?"

"Steer wrestling."

"Good luck with it. We'll try to make it out. With three kids, it's not so easy.” She looked past him to Aaron. “He probably won't let us miss it, though."

"If you make it out, come say hi.” He turned back to Aaron. “See you around, little man. You keep working, all right?"