Her Cowboy Lawman

by Pamela Britton

  “That’s that newfangled therapy ranch at the old Reynolds place, isn’t it?” Samson asked. “For army vets.”

  “Actually, it’s for veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder, and he only bought a portion of the Reynoldses’ place. He didn’t buy it all.”

  But he could have. Her brother could afford to buy pretty much whatever he wanted, like her son’s new bull-riding vest and the helmet, which had been a birthday present to Kyle last month. She’d wanted to kill her brother at the time, only she’d spotted the pride and joy and excitement on her son’s face, emotions she hadn’t seen since before Paul had died.

  “I’ve heard a lot of good things about Jax Stone,” Bren said. “Been meaning to drive over to his place and introduce myself.”

  “You could do that today,” Kyle said excitedly. “He’s here at the rodeo.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Connelly has more important things to do than meet my brother,” Lauren said gently, forcing a smile.

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  She should have known he’d say that.

  “Mom, pleeeease?” Kyle begged. “Let’s go over there right now, ask him what he thought about my ride.”

  The announcer’s voice grew loud again and they all turned to watch as a steer burst from the chutes, its rider clinging to its back. One jump, two, three. The steer bucked left and then right, the kid never once losing his grip.

  “That’s Pete Hale, one of Bren’s students,” Samson said. “Gonna make it big if he keeps this up.”

  The air horn blew. The boy made it look as if he hopped off a carousel horse. Kyle’s hand found her own. She glanced down, and she saw it then. The hope. The desire. The need to be good at something when he’d only ever been bad at sports. Too short for basketball. Too skinny for football. Perfect for riding steers.

  Don’t ruin this for him.

  She’d been angry about Bren Connelly saying that, but he’d been right. If her son had seen how badly she’d been affected by his ride, he might have realized just how much she didn’t want him riding. He’d give it up for her. He was that kind of kid. Always had been—even before Paul’s death.

  Damn it.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  “Awesome!” Kyle cried.

  Chapter Two

  Nervous mothers.

  They were the bane of a bull rider’s life. His own mom had given up going to rodeos. He suspected Kyle Danners’s mom would be no different. Once she let go of the apron strings, she’d realize it was easier to sit at home and wait for a phone call. Out of sight, out of mind. That’s what his mom used to say.

  “My uncle Jax will love meeting you,” Kyle was saying as they walked around the edge of the rodeo arena. The Via Del Caballo Rodeo Grounds was a small venue compared to Redding’s or Cheyenne’s. They’d used the hillside next to the arena for grandstands, building right into the side of them, and it might be a junior rodeo, but it was still packed. Young and old sat beneath the partly cloudy skies. By the time they made their way through the horses and people milling around the outside of the arena, the steer riding was almost over.

  “Pete Hale is going to win it,” Kyle said, whipping around to face him.

  “Looks that way.”

  “I can’t wait for you to teach me how to ride, too.”

  “Kyle,” Lauren interrupted. “You shouldn’t assume Sheriff Connelly wants you for a student.”

  People watched him walk by, but it was like old home week for him. Usually he spent his time at a rodeo behind the chutes and not in uniform. Half the town seemed to call his name or wave or simply smile. It was a campaign year, which meant every handshake might count for a vote, although in truth he took pride in knowing the names and faces of many Via Del Caballo citizens.

  “Besides, it looks like he probably won’t have time for you.”

  “Actually, I might have time to help him out.”

  “Really?” Kyle cried so loudly a few people glanced in his direction. “Awesome!”

  “Your mom’s right, though. The best thing for you is to learn how to ride. And not just regular riding but how to jump.”

  “What?” Kyle said.

  His mom looked just as perplexed, but she’d stopped at the end of an aisle and he could see a man staring at her, a man a few years younger than he was, which only solidified his earlier assumption that Lauren Danners was at least ten years his junior. Far too young for him, and made to look even younger with her tiny little nose and big hazel eyes. He’d wondered where her husband was.

  “You don’t mean over obstacles, do you?”

  He bit back a smile. “Actually, I do.”

  Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a man calling out, “Good job, little dude.”

  “Did you see me, Uncle Jax?” Kyle asked with pride on his face. “I did it. I didn’t chicken out.”

  “I saw.”

  They had to bump and nudge their way down the aisle. Someone called out his name again, and Bren waved at them blindly.

  “Jax, this is Bren Connelly,” his sister said, sitting next to her brother, the resemblance startling. They both had dark hair and hazel eyes, but Lauren’s were more green than gold. Looking at them sitting there next to each other, he realized Jax was quite a few years older than his sister.

  “Wait a second,” Jax said. “Brennan Connelly. The bull rider?”

  “One and the same.”

  They shook hands. “Heard a lot about you.”

  “Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat?” Kyle bounced in his seat.

  “What?” asked Jax.

  “Sheriff Connelly is going to teach me how to ride steers.”

  Jax’s brows lifted in surprise. “You teach steer riding?”

  “Kyle, stop.” Lauren shook her head, shooting both men a look of apology, her long dark hair falling loose around her shoulder. “He has a bad habit of assuming things.”

  “But he said he would.”

  “Actually, what I said was that first you need to learn how to ride.”

  “You said jump,” Kyle said.

  “Which means riding.”

  The rodeo announcer’s voice drowned out the sound of the crowd and they all turned and watched the last rider burst from the chute. The boy threw his arm up in the air and rode for one jump, two and then three. Bren wondered if the kid would cover for eight, but the steer changed directions and the poor boy didn’t stand a chance. In a heartbeat it was all over.

  “Pete won!” Kyle said with youthful enthusiasm tinged by hero worship. “That’s so cool.”

  “Actually, he hasn’t officially won yet. There’s more steer riding tomorrow.”

  People began to stand up. The rodeo announcer thanked everyone for attending. Jax Stone didn’t move.

  “You said he needed to learn how to jump. As in horses, yes?”

  Bren nodded. “He should take some lessons from your neighbor Natalie Reynolds. She’s been working with a few of my kids.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lauren said.

  He turned to her, although that meant facing her again and being reminded of how young she was. “It teaches them how to center themselves on an animal’s back,” he explained. “Like a pendulum or a teeter-totter. The rider stays straight up and down while the horse—and later a steer or bull—rocks beneath them. Once a rider learns how to stay centered, the rest is easy.”

  Jax was nodding. “Makes sense.”

  “I don’t have to wear those riding tights, do I?”

  “Kyle, really.” Lauren pursed her lips and shook her head. “I haven’t agreed for you to take lessons with Sheriff Connelly. I’m not even sure what he charges.”

  “I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t worry about money,” her brother said
.

  “And I’ve told you I didn’t move out here to accept your charity. It’s bad enough I’m living in your housekeeper’s quarters.”

  “I built that for you.”

  “Yeah, for when I visited. Not permanently.”

  “So what if you live there now?”

  “I refuse to live with my brother.”

  Lauren glanced in Bren’s direction, clearly embarrassed by their outburst. “Sorry,” she said. “You don’t need to hear our dirty laundry.”

  Kyle stood up. “It’s not dirty laundry. It’s true. Ever since Dad died, Uncle Jax has wanted us to live with him, but you wouldn’t let us.”

  “Kyle!”

  “I have eyes and ears, Mom. I see how hard you’re struggling to finish school and take care of me and everything. But it doesn’t have to be like that. I want to live with Uncle Jax. You’re the one that’s making this hard.”

  He turned and ran off. Lauren tried to grab his hand. She missed.

  “I’ll go after him,” Jax said, standing, but he had an admonishing look on his face, too. “You should listen to your son, Lauren.”

  They both watched them leave, and Bren could tell Lauren wished she could slip through the slats in the grandstand.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Don’t apologize. I understand.”

  She met his gaze and her eyes asked the question Do you? and he found himself wondering why a pretty little thing like her had so much sadness in her eyes. He looked away from her, troubled by how easily her sorrow tugged at his heart. The grandstands were nearly empty now, just the two of them sitting there. They both watched as Jax caught up with his nephew, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. He still wore his rodeo number and it flapped in a sudden breeze as he came to a stop. He didn’t know what Jax said to his nephew, but the boy’s shoulders slumped. He reached for his uncle’s hand and together they walked out of the grandstands together.

  “A year ago I would never have thought my brother would warm up to my son like that.”

  He glanced back at her, the same breeze kicking her brown hair across her face, Bren admitting once again how pretty she was. “What do you mean?”

  She peeked down at her nails. “There was a time when the military was his whole life. And after that, when his business was all that mattered to him.”

  “Darkhorse Tactical Solutions. DTS. I know.”

  She smiled slightly. “Everyone knows everything about everyone in this town.”

  He smiled, too. “I’m the local lawman. I make it my business to know who’s moved in and out.”

  But she’d tuned him out, he could tell. She stared after her son with such a keen sense of longing it made his heart tighten in pity all over again.

  “He begged me to move here.” She looked over at him. “We came here for a visit last year—before the house was finished—and it was all I could do to drag Kyle back to the Bay Area. He kept going on and on about his uncle Jax and his big ranch and how we could move to Via Del Caballo.”

  “So you did.”

  “We did, and to be honest, it’s a lot easier to make ends meet when you live in a small town, and it helps that my brother’s offered us free room and board.” She shifted, placing her elbows on her knees, resting her head in her palms. She looked so young then. Years ago she would have been exactly his type. No fake hair. Very little makeup. Easy smile. He’d been drawn to her the moment he’d spotted her standing there by the chutes.

  “But I can’t stay there forever.” She straightened again. “The whole point of my going back to school was so that I could finish my degree and find a good job.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Nursing.” Her smile turned bashful. “I’ve always felt compelled to help others. Turns out it’s a family trait.”

  “You could work for a local nursing home.”

  She shook her head. “No. I need to make enough money to support me and my kid. That’s the whole point. I want a good life for him, the best. That’s only going to happen at a big hospital, which is why I’m going for a bachelor of science in nursing”

  “So this is just temporary?”

  She let her feet slide back to the ground. “Before the year’s out, I’ll have graduated and found a new job, and I don’t think Kyle likes the idea.”

  He didn’t blame the kid. He hated the big cities. It was why he’d settled back down here once his military career had ended.

  “So let him enjoy himself while he’s around,” he said. “Let him take some riding lessons and maybe get on a few more steers.”

  Her eyes became serious. “I’ve seen what happens to bull riders. I’ve been an intern in an ER.”

  “All the more reason to make sure he learns how to ride correctly. He could have been injured today coming off that close to the chutes. He needs to learn how to fall in addition to how to ride.”

  Her brows lifted and he could tell she understood his point, but then she glanced toward where her son and Jax had disappeared It was almost as if he could sense the thoughts going on in her head, an inner battle of some sort. She must have arrived at a decision because she straightened suddenly, nodded, turned back to him. “So will you teach him?”

  Would he?

  Despite what he’d said earlier, he hadn’t planned on taking Kyle on as a student. His focus was high school rodeo. But he wasn’t proof against the imploring look on her face.

  “I could maybe help him out a little bit.”

  She reached for his hand. Bren glanced down, noting how refined her hands were against his own, how they were so white and his were dark. Her skin was soft and smooth. His was worn and calloused. Old and young. Worn and new.

  “Thank you.”

  When he looked back into her eyes, he suddenly wished he were in his twenties again. Now he’d be cradle-robbing—and he wasn’t about to do that. Not now. Not ever.

  “No problem.”

  But as they stood together, she flung her hair over her shoulder and the wind caught it and blew it around her face, and he realized she could be a serious distraction.

  But it was an election year and small-town constituents had old-school values. They would frown on him dating a younger woman, especially a single mom. And that meant he’d have to keep things purely professional.

  “How does this weekend sound?”

  She looked up at him and heard her say, “Perfect,” but saw on her face that she thought it was anything but, and he knew how she felt, but for a whole other reason.

  Chapter Three

  There were times you did things for your kid that you didn’t really want to do. At least, that’s what Lauren thought as she drove toward Bren’s house later that week. She supposed she should be grateful Kyle wouldn’t be climbing aboard a half-crazed animal today. He would just be learning some of the basics, Bren had explained.

  Lauren glanced at her son. He had the same look on his face as he did staring at a pile of birthday presents: eyes wide, shoulders taut, upper body leaning forward, the freckles on his face standing out like specks of dirt. She loved those freckles even though he got them from his dad. The rest of her son—hair, eyes, jaw—that was all her.

  “Are we there yet?” he asked, completely oblivious to her study.

  She almost laughed. “Looks like it.”

  When she slowed down for Bren’s driveway, he rested a hand on the door frame, peering at Bren’s ranch house with anticipation in his eyes. She took in his home, too.

  Nice place.

  Being town sheriff must pay well. Of course, it was nothing compared to her brother’s ostentatious, obnoxiously huge, over-the-top mansion, but this was nice and in many ways more her style. Dark brown paint covered a single-story home that had a cute porch across the front and wi
de dormers poking out of the A-frame roofline. It was in the heart of town, other homes and corrals off in the distance making her think this was some sort of equestrian subdivision. All the homes in the area were evenly spaced apart, but while those homes featured white fencing, Bren’s was made out of some sort of metal piping that looked sturdy enough to house elephants. There were trucks parked out front, and standing outside near the front of them, Bren and a group of men. He waved as Lauren wedged herself into a parking spot.

  Kyle shot out of his seat before she put her compact car in Park.

  “Hey!”

  But he was gone, his door slamming shut, Kyle going up to Bren and the men gathered there. She saw him laugh and pat Kyle’s head before pointing him somewhere. Her son waved and ran off, presumably to the back of the house and to the barn that she’d spotted out back.

  Here goes.

  She slipped out, smiling and shielding her eyes from the sun. “Should I follow him around?”

  In answer, Bren beckoned her over, continuing his conversation with the three older cowboys. “Lauren, this is Andrew, Jim and George. They’re part of my campaign committee.”

  Only then did she notice one of the trucks was black with a gold sheriff’s star on the side. Bren rested a hand on the hood, the black shirt he wore sporting the same image.

  “Guys, Lauren’s new to the area,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Andrew and Jim, smiling. Andrew was much older than Bren, his shoulders stooped, his blue eyes still bright. Jim seemed nearer in age. The two of them said, “Welcome,” at almost the same time.

  “Thanks.”

  George hadn’t taken his eyes off her, and then he turned to Bren, and there was something about the look on his face that Lauren didn’t like. Sort of a “well, well, well...what have we here?” He was older, too, but that didn’t stop him from winking at Bren just before saying, “Now I see why you agreed to help the son.”

  She drew up sharply. Bren frowned. “Her kid’s why I’m helping. Get your mind out of the gutter, George.”

  The man guffawed and Lauren sure hoped he was better at raising money than he was at handling social situations.