Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys

by D'Ann Lindun

  She thought of his boast in the bar where he’d claimed he’d win it again. “Are you really going back?”

  Determination crossed his face. “As soon as I can save an entry fee.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lyle wrapped his reins around his saddlehorn and pulled a small, silver thermos from his saddlebags. He poured hot coffee into a cup and sipped the steaming liquid. He sat on a rise overlooking a herd of mares and foals. In addition to buying prospects, Bailey also raised her own bucking stock.

  The sun had just begun to peek over the Rockies, sending golden rays shooting into the sky. It was shaping up to be a perfect summer day. Lyle took a deep breath, sucking in the clean, sharp air. He would never get enough after spending ten years in the stale, musty environment of a federal penitentiary.

  He wouldn’t go back.

  Never make a mistake that would put him inside again.

  His thoughts turned to his date with Sarah. What had started out as a challenge had turned into a good time. They’d talked until late into the night, but he hadn’t brought up Marla, and Sarah hadn’t mentioned much about her past. Instead, they talked rodeo and people they both knew. She was a few years younger than him and hadn’t followed the circuit as hard as he had. Yet, they knew several of the same people.

  He’d enjoyed the hell out of himself. So much so that he knew he couldn’t see her again, and had walked to her door without kissing her goodnight. She was dangerous to his banged up heart.

  A woman’s treachery had helped get him behind bars. He wouldn’t risk another wrong choice. Sarah seemed as different from Marla as night and day, but what if she wasn’t? What if underneath she wasn’t loyal or trustworthy? Although he’d learned to rein in his temper while in the joint, he hadn’t been challenged by a woman’s disloyalty.

  And he wouldn’t.

  He’d find a woman to spend the night with, who had no expectations beyond dawn, to take care of his needs. Sarah wasn’t that kind of woman. She was the keeping kind. His heart pinched a little at the thought of walking away. She turned him on in every way. Just thinking about her made sitting in the saddle uncomfortable and he stepped off the gelding, looping the reins around his forearm.

  A figure on a gray horse galloped up the brush covered hill toward him. As the rider grew closer he recognized Bailey. She wore a flat-topped Stetson and a long, dirt-brown duster that flew out behind her. As she drew near, she reined her horse to a walk. He noted her honey colored hair pulled into a ponytail and the wide smile that made her sharp cheekbones more prominent. “Lyle. You made it.”

  “I did.”

  She slid out of her saddle, her movement unconsciously elegant. With two long-legged strides she enveloped him in a tight embrace. She smelled like sage and lilacs. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too.” His throat closed as his arms tightened around her. Briefly lovers, they’d discovered they were better as friends.

  She slid out of his arms and studied him. “You look pretty good. A little thin and pale, but a few weeks in the sun will take care of the tan and some good food will fatten you right up.”

  He chuckled. “You’d have me fat and lazy like an old gelding?”

  Tipping her head to the side, she studied him with her light gray-green eyes. “You as a gelding? Hardly. You’re too much man to have your balls cut off.”

  He snorted. He’d forgotten how blunt Bailey could be. “I’d probably be better off. Women haven’t exactly enhanced my life.”

  “You haven’t met the right one,” she said. “Not even me, much to my regret.” She slid her duster off her shoulders and rolled it into a tight bundle. Her western shirt and snug jeans accented her slim figure. She wore a large, squash blossom turquoise necklace and matching bracelet, but no wedding ring.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, Bailey. Why haven’t you found the man who could help keep this place running?”

  She laughed, the sound rich and deep. “No clue.”

  “You need to start looking at men, not those boys you’re so fond of.” For whatever reason she liked younger men. Always had, and likely always would. He was probably the only man she’d ever dated who was near her age. At thirty-one, he was four years her junior. Most of her dates were at least a decade younger.

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “I know. You applying?”

  “You know we don’t work,” he reminded her. They were both too stubborn and hardheaded to make a good couple. The sex was electric, but out of bed they couldn’t agree on the time of day, much less anything else.

  “I know.” She wrapped her arm around his waist.

  Automatically, his arm draped over her slim shoulder. “It’s good to be here. Thank you.”

  “You’ve got a home here as long as you want one,” she said.

  “What do you want me to do to earn my keep?”

  Her tone turned businesslike. “You ready to get back in the saddle, cowboy? I’ve got a bunch of possibilities that I need to buck out.”

  “More than ready.” His pulse picked up at the thought of climbing on a bronc.

  “Your fine ass might land in the dirt.” She slid out of his embrace. “It’s been a few years since you sat on a bucking horse.”

  “A few,” he agreed. “But it’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”

  “Guess we’ll see after breakfast. I’ll have Estrella fix us something if you haven’t eaten yet.”

  “I could eat,” he said.

  She pulled a cell phone from her pocket and dialed. “Estrella? I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. There will be two of us. Gracias.” She returned the phone to her pocket. “We need to get you a phone. I’ll take you into town after lunch and get you set up.” She turned to her gray. “Let’s ride.”

  ~*~

  After a huge breakfast, two cowboys in their twenties joined Lyle and Bailey at the bucking chutes. Bailey introduced them as Pete and Rocky Rhodes. Lyle grinned at Rocky’s name. He imagined most people did. Both men were tall, lanky and strong as oxen by their grip when they shook hands.

  “Good to meet you,” Lyle said. “Likewise,” Pete said.

  Rocky nodded. “Yup.”

  Lyle nodded at a corral full of scruffy looking horses. “These the ones you want bucked out, Bailey?”

  “That’s them. I picked up most of them at the auction. A couple came from people who got tossed. Let’s load ’em and see what we’ve got. You boys ready?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Pete said.

  They moved to herd the horses into the bucking chutes. When they had six in the tight quarters Lyle said, “Saddles or bareback?”

  “Bareback to start,” Bailey said.

  Pete frowned, but Lyle understood Bailey’s reasoning. If the horses bucked without a saddle they likely would with one. He looked at Pete. “Which one you want?”

  “You pick.”

  “Look for the easy one,” Rocky advised with a malicious grin. “Since you’ve been off for a decade.”

  “I’ll take the pinto.” The horse appeared to be around seven or eight years old, big, stout and wild-eyed. At a glance, Lyle could tell the animal hadn’t been handled much. He also appeared to be the wildest one of the bunch.

  “Really? You’re gonna take the rough one first time out?” Rocky grinned again.

  “Why not?” Lyle shrugged.

  “You might get hurt, old man.”

  Lyle grinned back at him. “Watch and learn, pup.”

  “If you boys are done showing off the size of your peckers, could we ride these horses?” Bailey called.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Pete shuffled his feet. “I’ll take the dun.”

  Bailey moved in front of the gate, mounted on her gray gelding. “I’ll open. Nod when you’re set.”

  The skinny cowboy slid a leg over the dun mare’s back, settling close to her withers. He grabbed the thick halter rope tight and pushed his hat down over his ears. “Let’s go.”

  Bailey swung open the gate a
nd the horse stood confused for a moment, then leaped into the arena. Instead of bucking, she stampeded at a hard, dead run. Pete grabbed the halter rope with both hands, hauling back to no avail.

  Urging her gray into a gallop, Bailey matched the terrified horse’s gait. Pete let go of the rope and grabbed her waist. He swung over the hindquarters of her horse and onto the ground, landing on his feet.

  She herded the dun into a pen at the end of the arena and closed the gate. She shook her head. “No buck there.”

  Pete slapped his hat against his chaps. “Damn fine racehorse, though.”

  “Guess that one goes back to the auction,” Bailey said.

  An idea began to form in Lyle’s head. All the mare needed was work. If she went back to the auction she’d likely end up in a slaughterhouse. With speed like hers, she might have potential as a barrel horse. If not for a professional, at least someone who wanted to compete on the weekends.

  He made a mental note to talk to Bailey about the mare later. Right now, he had a horse to ride. Rocky grabbed the pinto’s halter rope and held it while Lyle climbed on board.

  He took the rope. The pinto lunged forward, slamming his chest into the panels. This one was going to buck.

  He nodded. Timestood still.

  The gate swung open.

  Unlike the dun mare, this horse didn’t think twice. Spotting an opening, he lunged through it, leaping high and coming down with a bone jarring thud that snapped Lyle’s neck and rattled his teeth. No more had the pinto’s hooves hit the ground than he jumped high, twisting in the air. Automatically, Lyle spurred. The action caused the horse to buck harder and faster. Like a well-oiled unit, they thundered across the arena.

  Lyle stuck like a burr. Just as he’d told Bailey, it was like riding a bike, or in his case a bucking horse. He hadn’t forgotten how, and he hadn’t lost his skill. Pure, unadulterated joy spilled through him.

  He didn’t know how long the ride lasted when he spotted Bailey out of the corner of his eye. She was there to help him dismount. Letting go of the rope, he grabbed hold of Bailey’s slim waist and swung himself free of the bucking pinto and across the gray’s rump to land on his feet.

  Grinning from ear-to-ear, he faced her. “That one can buck.”

  “He sure can,” she said. “And you still ride like a world champ.”

  “Thanks. Felt good to get in the middle of a horse again and stay there.”

  “He’s a keeper for sure.” She spun away and loped off to herd the horse into the pen. That was Bailey’s way. Never a gusher, she’d said more in those few words than most did in a paragraph.

  Lyle couldn’t help but shoot Rocky a smug glance. “That’s how an old man does it.”

  Rocky showed tobacco stained teeth. “Not bad.”

  “Let’s see what this next gelding has,” Bailey called, interrupting their sparring.

  The small sorrel looked to be a mustang with a long, tangled mane and tail. His hooves were split, broken and obviously never been touched. Rocky hesitated a moment before mounting, then slid onto the horse’s back.

  The gelding trembled with terror. His eyes rolled until the whites showed and his ears flicked back and forth.

  “Be careful,” Lyle said in a low voice. “This one’s—”

  Before he could finish, Rocky nodded at Bailey and she swung open the gate. The red gelding stood frozen in fear. Impatient, Rocky spurred him viciously in the shoulder. With a wild leap sideways, the horse entered the arena. More out of fear than any true desire to buck, he twisted and leaped.

  In an attempt to show off, Rocky raked his spurs across the horse’s shoulders. With a wild, extreme maneuver, the gelding jumped straight in the air, and fell backwards. Rocky shoved away from the animal, falling hard on his back in the deep sand. The horse landed next to him with a grunt. In a moment, the gelding stood and shook himself off. He was okay, just shaken.

  Rocky was slower to rise.

  Bailey galloped to him and dismounted. She put her hand under his elbow, helping him to his feet. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Damn horse.”

  She dropped her hand. “You’re fired. You have one hour to gather your stuff and get out.”

  He stared at her with mean eyes. “What the hell?”

  “I don’t put up with abuse of my animals. Ever. You probably just ruined that horse over there.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down until he dropped his gaze and muttered a curse.

  “Come on, Pete.”

  “I ain’t going.” He looked at Bailey. “Unless I’m done, too?”

  “You still have a job,” she assured him. “Fuck!” Rocky spat. “You bit—”

  Lyle had moved to stand beside Bailey. His fists curled. “I wouldn’t say any more if I were you.”

  “You gonna hit me, jailbird? Kill me? Break my neck?” Rocky sneered. “You’ll be back in the pen faster than that nag over there is corraled.”

  Lyle widened his stance. “I’ll do what I have to.”

  Bailey turned toward him and put her hand on his arm. “Lyle. Think. He’s not worth it. I got this.”

  She was right. Bailey could take care of herself. She wasn’t his mother who had been defenseless. Slowly, Lyle unfurled his hands. He jerked his head. “Okay.”

  Rocky’s laughter followed him out of the arena.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “How was your killer date?” Angie chuckled.

  Sarah fiddled with a ketchup bottle. “Good. I liked Lyle more than I expected to.”

  “What did you talk about?” Angie grinned wickedly. “And did you get a little taste?”

  Heat flooded Sarah’s face. “We talked about rodeo mostly.And no, we didn’t kiss.”

  Angie gaped at her. “Why not? Did you get cold feet?” “No,” Sarah said. “He didn’t try anything.”

  “I’d think a man locked up for that long would jump on anything with breasts.” Angie didn’t mince words, no matter how much they stung.

  “Guess I’m not his type.” Sarah couldn’t believe how much that disappointed her. She’d been so reluctant to go out with Lyle, and then ended up enjoying their date immensely. When he hadn’t kissed her, or said he’d call, she knew it was over before it began.

  “Looks like he’s found his type.” Angie motioned toward the window.

  Sarah followed her friend’s gaze toward the parking lot where Lyle and a tall, stunning blonde were exiting a truck. He put his hand intimately on her lower back.

  Bailey McKlellan.

  Rich. Successful. Gorgeous. All the things Sarah wasn’t.

  No wonder he ditched her after one date. If he could have someone like Bailey McKlellan, he didn’t need Sarah Reed.

  The bell above the door rang as the handsome couple entered.

  Where was their food? Her appetite fled. All she wanted to do was get out before Lyle spotted her.

  “Pick your head up,” Angie hissed. “Act like you don’t give a damn.”

  Angie was right. Life hadn’t beaten her yet, no matter how hard it’d tried. Just because one man she shouldn’t care about anyway didn’t want her, he wasn’t anything to worry over. Lifting her chin, she met the cool gray eyes of Lyle.

  He nodded. “Sarah. Good to see you.”

  She fought for nonchalance. “Same.”

  Indicating the woman at his elbow, he said, “Sarah Reed meet Bailey McKlellan.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Bailey said.

  “You, too.” She indicated Angie. “This is my friend, Angie Barrientos.”

  Bailey lifted one perfect brow. “Barrientos? Is your father Roberto, the one who raises the Corrientes cattle?”

  “The same,” Angie said.

  Bailey said, “I know him well. He’s a good man.”

  “Thank you.” Angie smiled broadly. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

  “You do that.” Bailey walked away toward the booth in the back.

  Lyle tipped his hat. “Ladies.”
<
br />   “Lyle,” Sarah said before she could stop herself.

  He paused. “Yes?”

  “I had a good time last night,” she blurted.

  His eyes warmed from cold steel to smoky gray. “See you around, Sarah.”

  “See ya.” She lifted her soda and drank to keep from saying anything else that sounded needy or desperate.

  When she dragged up her gaze to meet Angie’s eyes they were full of sympathy. “I can see what attracted you to that man. I also can’t help but notice he’s with another woman.”

  “Yeah.” Sarah sighed. “Story of my life. And one I can’t compete with.”

  “Why not?” Angie sounded genuinely shocked.

  “Um, she’s rich. Gorgeous. And I bet she’s a man eater.

  Things I’m not.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short in the looks department,” Angie said. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? I’d kill to have blue eyes like yours and your boobs put hers to shame. Not to mention you have a great ass.”

  Sarah held up her hand. “Okay, enough already. I’m starting to feel like you want to date me.”

  Angie laughed. “Nope. I’m into men. Just pointing out a few of your plusses.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Their waitress arrived and placed their food in front of them. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “A couple of good men.” Angie reached for mustard.

  The waitress cocked her hip. “Honey, if I knew where to find one of those I’d be long gone from here.”

  “Wouldn’t we all,” Angie muttered.

  Sarah’s gaze slid toward the cowboy in the back booth. “Yeah. We would.”

  ~*~

  Lyle squirmed under Bailey’s steady gaze. “What?” “Pretty lady.”

  “Who?” He tried to play dumb but should have known it wouldn’t fly with her.

  “The brunette with the big, blue eyes. Cute as a bug’s ear.”

  Lyle sighed. “I had a lapse of judgment and took her out last night. We rode to the pond where we roasted hotdogs.”