The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel (7 page)

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Authors: Pamela Britton

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He shot back so fast he nearly clocked his head on the driver-side window.

“Sorry.” If he hadn't been wearing a cowboy hat, he would have run his fingers through his hair. “I was just going to say everything will be okay.”

She nodded in agitation, and it was then that Chance got his second shock where Carolina Cruthers was concerned.

She was attracted to him, too.

Chapter Seven

He'd almost kissed her.

Carolina was certain of it.

Thank God he'd stopped himself. But
why
had he stopped? It was driving her nuts. It shouldn't. She should be grateful. It was too soon. Way too soon to be thinking about kissing another guy. What was she? Crazy? And he was leaving in a couple of months. She couldn't have picked a worse possible man to have a crush on.

But crush on him she did, and she was beginning to think he might have noticed.

He had hardly said two words since he'd started the truck and pulled back onto the highway. Had he seen her cheeks fill with color? Had he noticed the way her breathing had quickened? Did he know she'd become frozen with anticipation as his head had lowered toward her own? It wasn't right. They'd been talking about her twisted ex-boyfriend, for goodness' sake. She should have sworn off men for the rest of her life, not been practically panting the first time someone new tried to kiss her.

“I'll unload the horses.” He put the truck in Park again, this time out back behind the rodeo grounds.

“I'll check in with the rodeo manager. Find out where it's okay to set up.”

He nodded. She waited for him to look her in the eyes, and when he didn't, tried not to let her disappointment show as she inhaled a deep breath of pine-scented air. What a messed-up piece of work she'd turned out to be.

But he doesn't know about that other thing.

And he wouldn't, either. She would make sure of it, she vowed, heading for the rodeo office.

“Well, lookee here,” said Hank Havens, a person who characterized the epitome of a rodeo man. Big hat, wide girth, cheesy smile. “If it isn't Spider Woman in the flesh.”

Spider Woman. The nickname he'd given her when she'd nearly had a wreck with her horse, somehow managing to hang on to the underside of her horse's neck during the middle of a performance. That was when she'd first started out with the Galloping Girlz. She thanked the Lord it hadn't ended badly.

“Hey, Hank.” She forced a smile. “Just checking in.”

The man had the eyes of a laser scanner, and they beamed up and down, the wrinkles beneath his oversize cowboy hat deepening. “Why, you look as miserable as a herd of wet cattle.”

She tried to muster a smile. She truly did. “Been a long drive.”

His gray eyes narrowed, and she knew he didn't believe her. She toyed with telling him all about James, but she hated to drag him into the whole mess. She didn't want anyone to know how stupid she'd been.

“Okay if we toss the horses in one of the stock contractor pens?” she asked.

Hank's big jowls quivered for a moment, as if he were about to say something. Then he smiled. “Why, sure. 'Course, honey. You don't even have to ask.”

She slipped outside before he could probe deeper and took a calming breath when she paused outside the portable trailer that served as the rodeo office. They were only an hour off the main highway, but it felt as if they were hours away from anywhere.

The rodeo grounds were in a clearing ringed by tall pine trees. A massive arena was in the middle of it all. Grandstands stair-stepped their way toward the sky. It seemed like such an arbitrary location, as if God had plopped down a tiny toy rodeo play set in the middle of nowhere. Truth was, they were surrounded by a small logging town. There were homes in the hills around them, and one of the nation's biggest sawmills was not far away. The townspeople loved their rodeo, too. They would celebrate tonight by hosting a big rodeo dance, an event Carolina always avoided like the plague.

James stood in front of her.

She almost screamed, realizing too late that it was actually Chance.

“Did I scare you?”

He knew he had, but she still said, “No.”

He'd removed his hat. A red ring from the hat indented his forehead. He'd fluffed up his hair, too, and she realized he'd tried to look like her ex on purpose.

“Where's your cat key chain?”

“In my purse. In the truck.”

“Good place for it.”

“I was just walking to the rodeo office.”

“You could be walking to an outhouse and be attacked, which is why you need to carry it around with you at all times,” he said sternly. “Don't go around with your head down. Look up and survey your surroundings, and most of all, be prepared.”

He was still angry, although not at her, she realized. At James. Something about that anger stirred feelings in her own heart.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize.” He tipped her chin up with his hand. Her breath caught. “This is
not
your fault. None of this is the result of something
you
did. He's a lowlife piece of scum, and if he comes near you, he'll be sorry.”

How was it possible to be so afraid of one man and yet so incredibly attracted to another at the same time?

Crazy.

“He won't come here.” The words were more of an affirmation, one she'd been repeating to herself the whole way there.

“If he does, I'll take care of it.”

Chance never looked away, and she took this time to examine his face. He looked more like his sister, Claire, than his brother, with his green eyes and dark hair. But it was the expression on his face that held her attention. She'd never seen such a look of fierce determination—and it was all aimed at protecting her.

Frankly, it turned her on.

* * *

S
LEEPING
ARRANGEMENTS
.

He'd been thinking about it the whole damn way to the rodeo. It hadn't been a problem before he'd damn near kissed her. But now he'd be a fool to share a room with her, not when he clearly couldn't be trusted to keep his distance. No. It'd be better if he found her a hotel room or another place to stay, or a place for him to stay. There was just one problem.

James.

What if he showed up in the middle of the night? What if he watched her bunk down in someone else's trailer? What if he sneaked up on her? Chance couldn't allow that to happen, which meant sticking to Carolina like glue, which meant sharing the trailer with her.

Yippee-ki-yay!

So when she showed up at the trailer after a quick practice session with the girls, he needed to tell her his plan. She wore that skintight bodysuit he was growing to hate, or maybe love, and he tried not to notice the way it showed off her every curve. “Look, I was thinking you might be uncomfortable with me sleeping inside. You know, gossip and all that, so I was going to grab a blanket and set up camp outside.”

“What?” She appeared genuinely surprised, the evening sun shining into her blue eyes. “I don't care what people think.”

“Well, I do. I'll keep watch out here.”

“Not going to happen.” She crossed her arms over her chest, apparently digging in her heels over the issue. “People can gossip all they want. I already owe you so much. I'm not going to be responsible for booting you from your bed.”

He didn't like the images the word
bed
provoked. “I thought with everything that had happened between you and James, you might be uncomfortable sleeping with a strange man. I mean, sleeping near a man you don't know all that well.”

Why did he feel like a bumbling fool all of a sudden? Was it the fact she stood, blue eyes wide, blond hair streaming down her back, her body silhouetted by the sun?

“You're my boss's brother.” She forced a smile. He could tell by the way it didn't quite wrinkle the corners of her eyes. “It'll be fine.”

Somehow he doubted that.

“I promise not to bite,” she added.

Yeah, but would he be able to keep from biting her? That was the question.

* * *

S
HE
'
D
BEEN
LYING
.
It would not be fine. She recognized that fact within two minutes of stepping inside the trailer.

“I need to take a shower,” she announced.

He'd followed her inside, but her words made him freeze. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I'll wait outside while you do that.”

For a fraction of a second, she wondered what he would do if she invited him into the shower with her, but as quickly as the thought came, she chased it away. She did not need that type of complication in her life, not matter how tempting.

“Thanks,” she said instead, forcing another smile.

The moment he closed the trailer door, she leaned her head against a nearby cabinet and groaned. This weekend was not going how she'd planned. She'd meant to keep her cool, to treat him like a big brother, to shove her damn physical attraction to the furthest reaches of her mind, where she'd slap a giant iron bolt across it and never think about it again.

Ha.

Carolina took a cold shower. When she finished, she pulled clothes out of her duffel bag. She layered on item after item, partly because she was freezing and partly because it would act as barricade against her own desires. She hoped.

“Your turn,” she said, stepping outside, hair still wet from the shower. She shivered in the cool night air. “I'll wait out here while you do your thing.”

Chance frowned. He obviously didn't like the idea of leaving her alone.

“And look,” she said, holding up her Hello Kitty key chain. “I brought protection.” She patted the pocket of her sweats. Well, the first layer of sweats. “And pepper spray. I promise to scream if James makes an appearance.”

“Just the same, I would feel better if you were inside with me.”

While he took a shower? No, thanks. That was all she needed, to imagine water sluicing over his arms and belly and...other things. While she wondered what it would be like to glide her fingers down—

She swallowed. “I'll wait here.”

He must have realized she wasn't going to heed his wishes, because he glanced around them once—as if searching the bushes for James—before turning toward the trailer.

“Stay by the door,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!” She saluted.

“I'll be quick.” She waited a full minute before patting her other pocket and then pulling her cell phone out. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she dialed the familiar number, grateful her number was blocked from caller ID. James answered after the second ring.

“Leave me alone,” was all she said.

He didn't say anything, and for a moment she wondered if the call had been dropped, but then she heard James's quiet laughter, the kind that sent goose bumps up her arms and fear deep into her soul.

“I mean it, James. Leave me alone.”

“Who's the guy?”

It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. “My new boss.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It doesn't matter who he is. You're out of my life, remember? Gone. And if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to call every news station in town and have them do a story about ex-boyfriends who stalk their ex-girlfriends after they beat the crap out of them.”

Silence.

She'd never threatened to go public before. She hadn't even told Colt and Natalie about the abuse until she'd gotten out of the hospital. And she'd downplayed the seriousness of the matter. It wasn't until James had shown up at the ranch one day that she'd come clean to Colt. In hindsight, it must have been shortly after James's visit that Colt had thought of the idea of putting his brother in charge.

James laughed. “If you do that, I'll sue you for defamation of character.”

“You could try,” she said. “But your mug shot is online. Kinda hard to call me a liar when the proof of your guilt is on the internet for all to see.” He didn't respond, and his silence gave her courage. “So unless you want to be this week's special feature, I suggest you give me a wide berth from here on out, got it?”

“My, my, my. Someone's grown some claws. Wonder if it has anything to do with the new man in your life.”

“You're right. I do have claws. Hello Kitty claws. And I'll use them on you if you don't leave me alone.”

“Are you seeing him?”

“I'm not dating anyone. Not now. Not ever. I'm done with men. Most of all, I'm done with you. Now leave me alone, or I swear to the good Lord, you'll be sorry.”

She hung up before he could ignite her temper any more.

“I take it that was James?”

Chance leaned against the trailer door. Wow. That must have been the world's shortest shower. “I called him,” she said. “Told him to leave me alone.”

“And you think he'll listen?”

“If he has any sense he will. I threatened to out him on television if he didn't.”

He nodded, his hair still wet, as was hers, but she'd bet he looked ten times better than she did. He looked as though he'd come from a photo shoot, one of those sexy-men-out-of-the-shower shoots, complete with white T-shirt clinging to his damp skin and skintight jeans.

“We should probably turn in.” He stood back so she could enter the trailer. “Long day tomorrow.”

And she would have to sleep by him. This would be a long night.

Chapter Eight

When Chance woke up the next morning, he'd have been the first one to admit his bad mood. Sleep deprivation did that to a man, especially when the lack of sleep involved a woman.

Who wasn't in the trailer.

He checked the bathroom. And the bed where she'd slept, the same damn bed he'd thought about crawling into last night, even though he knew she'd kick him out if he did.

I'm not dating anyone. Not now. Not ever.

Her words should have served as a stern reminder why he should steer clear. Instead they were like a call to arms, at least as far as his body was concerned. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Where was she?

The trailer wasn't that big, and since she wasn't inside, she must be outside, after he'd specifically told her not to leave without him.

Damn it.

He burst outside so fast he knocked the trailer door open all the way, its boom no doubt startling their neighbor.

“There you are,” he said, grimacing slightly at the accusatory sound of his words. “Where were you?”

“Sorry,” she said, somehow looking five years younger in her bulky sweatshirt and ponytail. “I thought I would feed the horses.”

“And I thought I told you to stay put.”

“You did, but I made sure the coast was clear. And just in case, I brought my kitty claws and my pepper spray.” She held both up, then put them back in her pockets. “Even if James had shown up, I would have been okay.”

“Famous last words.”

“No. Really.”

How could he make her see things through his eyes? It was the most frustrating part of this whole situation.

“Carolina, I'm serious. Once, when I was over there, in the Middle East, we found a woman huddling behind some bushes. Strangest thing we'd ever come across way out in the middle of nowhere. At first we thought she might be some kind of radical Islamist—you never know these days—but we took one look at her face and knew she was no terrorist.”

He stepped toward her, hoping she'd see the utter seriousness in his eyes.

“She'd been beaten by her husband. Guess he took offense to some other man trying to talk to her. Blamed it on her, and so she ran.”

Her face paled. “You don't have to tell me any more.”

“Yes, I do. I need you to understand something about the opposite sex, something that not a lot of women know, but that I saw firsthand. There are men out there who think they own their wives or girlfriends—I mean,
own
own. They look upon women as a commodity. As a thing. It was bad over there. Worse than you can possibly imagine. This poor woman was married to such a man. We tried to get her some help. Tried to take her to our embassy. Asylum. Whatever you want to call it. Didn't do a damn bit of good. The sons of bitches wouldn't let us help her. We had to turn her over to her own people. We heard later that she'd been beaten to death the next day.”

“Oh, Chance. I'm sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don't be sorry for me. Be sorry for that woman. You have a choice, Caro. You can either stick with me and be safe, or you can go trotting off on your own and put yourself at risk. After what I saw over there, I don't trust any man that puts his hands on a woman. James is no exception.”

She nodded. “Okay. I get it.”

“I hope you do.”

“I was coming back to change. I want to put Rio through his paces. He's still pretty green, and I'm not sure what he'll be like in this arena.”

Rio. Her new stunt horse. He'd watched her practice this past week, marveling at her ability. She was by far and away the best trick rider of the Galloping Girlz, doing things no sane woman should do, like standing on the shoulders of one of the other girls, a stunt he'd never seen before. But no matter how brave she was, she'd be no match for James.

“I'll watch,” he offered because there was no way he wanted her walking to the arena without him. It was bad enough he'd somehow missed her getting up to feed the horses. If he were honest, he wasn't angry at her so much as at himself.

“You don't have to do that.”

“Go change,” he offered by way of response. “I'll wait outside.”

Damn lack of sleep. It made him edgy. And impatient. And cranky.

But she didn't leave right away. She held eye contact, her eyes seeming to be as blue as the wild lilac that bloomed in the spring. It was still too early for direct sunlight, but she didn't need light to shine. A piece of hay stuck in her hair. He told himself to ignore it, but instead he reached for it, slowly, so as not to scare her.

“Thank you,” she said softly, but he didn't know if she thanked him for wanting to keep her safe or for removing the piece of hay.

“You're welcome.”

She entered the trailer and closed the door softly. Chance backed up a step and collapsed into a camp chair he'd set up outside. This attraction thing needed to stop. In a couple months, three at most, he'd be overseas again. Plus, he'd heard her earlier.
I'm done with men
, she'd said.
Never again.

Bad timing. Bad idea. Bad choice.

He was a combat veteran, one who took his career seriously, and he needed to stick to the mission—protecting her.

The trailer door opened, and she paused for a moment. She'd changed into a skintight leotard, one with a silver swath of fabric that ran up her leg, intersected her middle and ended at her shoulder. It left nothing to the imagination. Again.

Damn.

He stood up quickly. “Let's go.”

She didn't say a word, simply fell into step beside him. It took her only a moment to tack up Rio—the horse's special saddle so light it looked as if it required hardly any effort to lift onto Rio's back. Off-white in color, the saddle was smaller and flatter in the back and, yes, had a saddle horn, but it was tiny compared to a normal saddle.

“Arena could be crowded,” he observed as she slipped on Rio's bridle.

“That's okay. There's always people around.”

It was early morning, and a crispness hung in the air, typical of mountain rodeos. But the time and temperature didn't stop people from wandering about. Slack—a section of the rodeo not attended by the general public—would start in an hour or so. Most competitors currently tended to their horses, though a few were already riding.

Chance scanned the perimeter and sidelines for anyone who might look suspicious, but there was nobody. Everyone was on horseback, which helped eliminate potential threats, unless...

“Does James ride?” he asked.

Carolina huffed in laughter as she opened the arena gate. “Hardly.”

He nodded and then peered up at the grandstand. Nobody there, either. He wished he had his scope. The pine trees surrounding them would make a great hiding place.

You're being paranoid.

Maybe he was, but her conversation with James had put Chance on edge. It hadn't sounded very friendly, and it made him think this thing between them was far from over.

“I won't take long,” she said, swinging up on Rio's back with the ease of a ballerina. “Colt will be here later, and he'll want to go through the whole routine with me and the girls.”

And Chance would get to watch. That was fine. He liked to be in the background, keeping an eye on things. Like now. If James showed up, the man would be in for a surprise. And it wouldn't be just him jumping the man. He would bet a half a dozen cowboys would come to Carolina's rescue if anything were to happen. You didn't mess with women at rodeos—not if you valued your life. More importantly, you didn't mess with his woman.

His?

Well, not like that
, he reassured himself. Not
ever
like that.

Caro set off on Rio, nodding and waving to the cowboys she passed, blond ponytail bouncing up and down in rhythm to her horse. Everyone knew her. That removed some of the tension from his shoulders. More friendlies meant fewer potential hostiles to keep an eye on. Chance scanned every face in the arena, all the while watching as Caro brought Rio up to speed. It was hard to keep his eyes off her once she began her tricks.

She amazed him.

He couldn't watch her hang upside down without feeling his stomach drop somewhere near his toes—the same feeling he got when he jumped out of a plane. And yet, he marveled. If he saw the move a million times, he'd never grow tired of it. Her hair whipped around as furiously as her horse's tail while she performed her repertoire of tricks. When she stood up on Rio's back, it was almost anticlimactic. Easy. Not much of a challenge compared to galloping upside down with nothing more than a single leg hooked around the breast collar.

POP.

Chance flinched. Caro's horse bolted.

“Caro.” He jumped over the fence so fast he damn near tripped on the top rail. Caro had somehow managed to clutch the back of the saddle, but her legs hung down, her lower body flopping about. She might have been okay except Rio wasn't a seasoned trick horse. Spooked, he started to buck. Hard.

Dear God.

Caro's grip slipped. He could hear her yelling, “Whoa, Rio, whoa,” but it did little good. One of the cowboys in the arena turned his horse and galloped toward her, but it was too little too late. Like a rag doll tossed by a petulant kid, Caro flew through the air, arms splayed, legs akimbo. She landed with an audible thud that twisted his gut.

“Caro!”

She didn't move, and it sent him into a panic he'd never felt before. Not when he'd been caught in a firefight. Not when he'd spotted that IED six inches from his left foot. Not when that shell blast had knocked him back on his keister.

“Caro.” He all but threw himself down. “Can you hear me?”

She groaned.

“Caro.”

She muttered something, and he leaned in close to hear it.

“I'm going to kill that horse.”

He drew back quickly. Blue eyes met his own.

“Don't worry. I'll do it for you.”

She nodded, winced and clutched her head.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just banged up, I think.”

“Stay still while we wait for the EMTs to arrive.”

“EMTs? I don't need an EMT.” She slowly sat up, a clod of dirt falling off the front of her shirt.

“I said don't move.”

“I'm fine.” She waved him back.

Dirt covered her leotard and her face and was in her hair. “You are not fine.”

“I've survived worse.” She started to stand.

“Carolina Cruthers, you are not to move another inch until an EMT has checked you out!”

He'd never yelled at a woman before, but there was a first for everything. His words had the desired effect. She froze in place and stared up at him.

“Jeez,” she said, eyes wide. “I got bucked off my horse. No big deal.”

He shook his head, trying to convey the seriousness of his words. “You weren't just bucked off. You were shot.”

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