Her Cowboy Lawman

by Pamela Britton

  “I’m doing a meat pizza for the boys,” he said, patting his belly. “And a garden pizza for you.”

  That was the big brother she remembered from her childhood, always thinking about her. “Sounds good to me.”

  He went back to work and she took a deep breath, steeling herself as she faced Bren and her son. “I’m sure Bren knows a lot of famous bull riders.”

  Their gazes connected and there it went again. Whoosh. Her stomach did the same thing it did on the roller coasters she used to ride as a kid. It didn’t make any sense, but she couldn’t deny it.

  “Do you?” Kyle’s face peered up at him with such a look of unabashed awe Lauren smiled. She might want to avoid Bren like the plague, but clearly her kid had a big case of hero worship.

  “I do.”

  “Like who?”

  Kyle listened as Bren rattled off a bunch of names Lauren didn’t recognize, but her son obviously did based on his “Really?” and “Wow!” and “No way!” Poor Kyle had had so little interaction with anyone who was hero material.

  Including his own father.

  She shoved that thought away with both hands. That was a lot of years ago.

  She’d started over again.

  In less than a year she’d be out of school. She’d find a job at one of the big hospitals and give her son all the things she’d dreamed about.

  “...man, I would so love to meet him.”

  “You could.” Bren glanced at her. “There’s a big bull-riding event an hour away from here this weekend. You and your mom should go. I’ll introduce you.”

  Wait...what?

  “You should.” Her brother sprinkled cheese on his creation. “Be good for the two of you to get out.”

  She told her brother with her eyes she didn’t want to go, but instead of watching her back, her traitorous brother said, “I might like to go, too.”

  “Really, Uncle Jax?” Her son couldn’t have sounded more excited if he’d been offered a chance to meet a Marvel superhero. “That’d be awesome.”

  She felt her mouth open and close a few times, caught her son’s gaze, then Bren’s. How could she say no?

  “When is it again?” she asked, dreading his answer.

  “Saturday?”

  “Can we go, Mom?”

  She swallowed. Hard. Did she have a choice?

  * * *

  LAUREN DIDN’T LOOK HAPPY.

  “Thanks for the pizza,” Bren said to Jax, stretching with the reach of someone well satisfied. “It was terrific.”

  “Thanks,” Jax said gruffly, seeming uncomfortable with the praise.

  “Kyle, come on.” She wasted no time, that was for certain. “You need to get to bed. School tomorrow.”

  “But, Mom—”

  She bit her lip and Bren enjoyed watching the way her teeth raked her bottom lip. “No buts. I have work to do still, and I can’t be coming back over here for you later on.”

  “But Uncle Jax can bring me back.”

  “Uncle Jax has company.”

  Company she wouldn’t even look at. She’d been doing a better job than normal of ignoring him. He couldn’t decide if he should be grateful or disappointed.

  “Just a few more minutes, Mom?”

  “Listen to your mom, son.” Jax’s words brooked no argument. “I need some man time with Bren, so he’s going to stick around.”

  That sounded more like an order than a request and it had Bren wondering what Jax wanted to talk to him about. Lauren’s brother sounded serious.

  She held out her hand and Kyle clearly knew not to push matters. “See you tomorrow, Uncle Jax.” He tried to smile, but his disappointment was so acute he couldn’t muster the effort. “You, too, Bren.”

  “You bet,” he said, holding his palm up in the air. “Gonna work you harder tomorrow.”

  That brought out the kid’s smile. He slapped his palm against Bren’s. “Can’t wait.”

  But Lauren? She walked away without a backward glance, the light from the pool catching her hair and turning the ends nearly blond. It was a beautiful night. The fog that hugged the nearby coastline had incited a breeze, one that tugged at the branches of the oak trees and disturbed the surface of the pool, which rippled in response. It might have been too cold if not for the outdoor pizza oven, which still emitted heat and cast a glow over the tables and chairs. They watched as the two disappeared around the side of the house. A long walk. Bren couldn’t believe the size of the place, nor how humble and down-to-earth its owner was.

  “You’re doing a good job with Kyle.”

  He looked up, met the man’s gaze. He had a feeling Jax Stone didn’t hand out praise all that often, and so he appreciated the spark of approval in the man’s brown eyes. “Thanks.”

  “But I warn you Lauren’s not going to be much help when it comes to Kyle riding steers. She’s hoping it’ll all go away.”

  He nodded his agreement. “I doubt it will.”

  Jax stood, crossed to the island where he’d been making pizza and opened the door of a mini refrigerator. “Want one?” He held out a bottle of beer.

  “No, thanks.” He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. He’d been so nervous around Lauren that his palms had been sweating. “I don’t drink.”

  Jax nodded his approval. “Smart man.”

  “Town sheriff.”

  Jax smiled as he took a seat. “Even smarter.” He bent again. “Soda? Bottled water?” he called from behind the mini refrigerator.

  “Water sounds good.”

  Jax handed him a clear bottle. Heat from the oven wafted toward them, still smelling of basil and garlic, although they had long since consumed the pizza.

  “So what makes you think Kyle won’t give up?”

  He reminded him of himself a long time ago, but he didn’t say that. “I suppose it’s the look in his eyes.” He frowned as he tried to put into words what he was thinking. “He’s not approaching it for the thrill of things. It’s more that he’s trying to figure it out. As if riding a steer is a puzzle that he’s determined to understand. I’ve seen that look before on the faces of a couple NFR qualifiers that I helped coach when they were young.”

  “Really?”

  Bren nodded. Jax set his beer down. “She’s going to fight you the whole way.”

  Bren frowned again between sips of his water. “She’s not putting up much of a fuss now. I mean, I can tell she doesn’t like watching her son fall off, but what mom does?”

  Jax shook his head. “She’s in the ‘it’s just a phase’ stage. When the steers get bigger and he wants to try riding a bull, that’s when it’ll hit the fan.”

  He supposed Jax was right. “She’s going to hate me for helping him.”

  Jax’s brown eyes were as sharp as the tip of a knife and Bren could tell he didn’t flinch from the truth. He liked that about the man.

  “Nah. She’s not like that. She’s tough. Been alone for four years now, and before that...” He shook his head again.

  “Before that?” he prompted because he had a feeling this was important. Still, the man took his time replying.

  “It was tough for her. I tried to be there for her after Paul died, but I was running a business overseas and there wasn’t much I could do.”

  Paul. The dead husband. “How’d he die?”

  Another direct stare. “He worked for me.”

  What? He had no idea why he’d assumed the man was a white-collar worker who’d died from a drunk driver or something, but that’s what he’d thought. And as the realization sunk in, something else clicked into place, too. The way she shrank back from him. The guarded look in her eyes. Her inability to hold his stare for longer than five seconds.

  “They were having problems,” he guessed.
/>
  Jax’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you guess that?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  Jax took another long pull from his beer. “Paul Danners was an ass.”

  Bren had a feeling if Jax didn’t like you, there was probably a good reason why. The man struck him as a straight arrow.

  “If I had a customer I didn’t like or who was difficult to deal with or had a huge ego, Paul Danners was my go-to guy. He’d pop off on the person and it either brought them into line or prompted a phone call, at which point I would explain that when it came to guarding precious assets, you don’t want Mr. Nice Guy.”

  “But Mr. Mean Guy was married to your sister.”

  “He was, and God help me, a part of me hated him for what he put her through.”

  And that put him between a rock and a hard spot. “It must have been tough.”

  “It was harder on Lauren. I think she hid the worst of it from me.”

  Really bad, then. No wonder she was so protective of her son. And so closed off. He could almost sense the wall she had put up around herself.

  “There’s a part of me that wonders if I didn’t send him on that last job on purpose.”

  Was that guilt he saw in the man’s eyes?

  “I knew sending him to Africa was dangerous.”

  “Africa?”

  Jax nodded. “My firm works around the world. Somalia pirates. Nasty business. I knew it’d be dangerous.”

  He’d heard private contracting was a lucrative business, but clearly Jax had taken it to the highest levels.

  “I still don’t know how it happened. The government officials were less than helpful. All I know is he ended up dead on my watch.”

  “Were you there?”

  Jax shook his head. “I don’t get involved anymore. Not on that level.”

  “But you still own the business.”

  “Which makes it ultimately my fault.”

  And it tore him up. Even though he wasn’t there. Even though he hated the way the man treated his sister. Even though the man was a jerk, it still ate at him.

  “I guess I have Paul to thank for all this.” He glanced around him. “It’s because of him that I decided to slow down. Even though I’m not entirely certain what ‘this’ is just yet.”

  Trying to make amends somehow. That’s what “this” was, but Bren kept that thought to himself, too.

  “Anyway, Lauren has scars, and they run deep, especially where my nephew is concerned. She’s hyperprotective. Sometimes overindulging, hence the steer riding even though she hates it, and independent to the point of stupidity. Kyle is the only reason why she moved to Via Del Caballo, despite that she needed the help in a bad way.” He became lost in his thoughts for a moment and Bren wondered what it was that put such a sad look on his face. He watched as the man sucked in a breath and refocused on him. “I’m glad she’s here, but I thought you might need a heads-up.”

  “About what?”

  For the longest time Jax simply stared. Bren had a feeling he wanted to tell him something, but then he shrugged and said, “Eventually she might try to stop Kyle from riding.”

  A light flicked on nearby and he wondered if it was Lauren’s room. Could she hear them? He doubted it. Jax didn’t seem like the type to build flimsy walls, but it did something to him to know that she was there, maybe even stripping out of that sexy shirt...

  No.

  He wouldn’t go there. If ever there was a good reason to steer clear from Lauren, Jax had just spelled it out. She came with baggage piled as high as a cruise ship. He’d be a fool to let her pretty face sucker him into thinking...

  What, exactly?

  He took a sip of his water, waiting, wondering what Jax had really wanted to say. Whatever it was, he’d changed his mind.

  “She’s had a tough go these past few years. I’m hoping she’ll find happiness here, but I have a feeling her marriage to Paul will make that difficult. And I have a feeling her overprotective nature will make your life difficult.”

  Bren met Jax’s gaze. There it was again. The look. He had a feeling there was a deeper message, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what, and so all he said was “Thanks.”

  Chapter Seven

  She didn’t want to go.

  “This is going to be so cool!”

  Kyle did a little jump, arms lifting, heels all but clicking, the grin on his face as they headed into the Will Rogers Stadium as big as an orange slice.

  “Can you believe it? All-access passes. I can’t wait to meet Trent Anderson and Jim Conners and Dylan Anderson.”

  And she couldn’t wait to come face-to-face with a man she wanted to see about as much as she wanted her teeth drilled into. He made her feel weak. As if she didn’t have control of herself. After four years of keeping her guard up, she found it frightening to realize you couldn’t control sexual attraction.

  “You think I can get their autographs?”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “Cool.”

  They headed up some concrete steps. At the top level, parked in front of a row of double doors, were brand-new trucks, the logo of the series sponsor emblazoned on their sides, their chrome catching the last rays of the evening sun. Cowboys and cowgirls, most of them dressed in jeans and hats, walked along with them. She’d had no idea there were so many bull-riding fans in Southern California, but clearly they were all at tonight’s performance.

  “Tickets, please?” said a wiry-built young man who seemed thoroughly bored with his job.

  “Right here,” said Kyle, flashing a plastic card at the man.

  The kid didn’t seem impressed, just waved them through. Lauren looked around for Jax. He was supposed to meet them. She reached into her pocket, checked her cell phone. No message.

  “Let’s go find our seats.” She tried to take Kyle’s hand, but he stepped away from her and she shook her head. He’d been going through a phase, becoming more independent. It about broke her heart when he asked her not to kiss him out in front of his new school.

  “We’re up front right by the action.” Kyle skipped ahead of her.

  “Wait. How do you know what seats we’re in?”

  He flicked his pass. “It’s written right here.”

  It was. She just hadn’t expected him to figure that out. Maybe she did baby him too much, she thought, pausing at the top of a long row of steps that descended to an arena floor. Kyle was already halfway down. He kept looking down and she realized he was staring at the painted letters on the floor. Maybe she should give him some more freedom.

  “Here it is,” he called up to her. Goodness, they really were front and center. She wondered how the town sheriff had scored such amazing seats but then froze when she heard a voice behind her say, “Not bad, huh?”

  She shivered because there it was again. The deep timbre of his words. That’s all it took. Just the sound of him to make her go all weak at the knees.

  “It’s amazing.”

  Deep breath. Paste a smile on your face. Turn and face him.

  Dear God he was handsome. He stood on the main mezzanine, two steps above her, wearing another black shirt, the kind with a star embroidered onto the pocket. Staring down at her like he did, eyes dark and smoky, he reminded her of the old-time movie posters. Like one of those sexy older cowboys who appeared in 1950s movies.

  “You should see behind the chutes.”

  She had to force herself to hold his amber-colored gaze. Beneath his black cowboy hat his eyes picked up the light from the arena roof, making them seem to sparkle. Or maybe that was amusement in his gaze, although what he found funny she had no idea. His black shirt had been tucked into jeans held up by a black belt that supported a buckle as big as her fist. She read the words
Bull Riding before suddenly being aware that she stared at his crotch. She looked up quickly, her face flaming.

  And now he looked on the verge of laughter.

  She avoided his eyes, resolutely staring at the activity in the center of the stadium. Down below, a corner of the floor had been turned into a rodeo arena, complete with bright yellow fencing and cattle chutes along the back. It smelled like wet earth and livestock with just a hint of popcorn mixed in. None of the animals had been loaded yet, but cowboys crawled around the ironworks like monkeys on a tree. Colorful sponsor banners hung on the gates, the sheer scope of the equipment involved in producing the event mind-boggling.

  “Come on. I think Kyle will bust a gut if we don’t get behind the chutes soon.”

  He was probably right. Kyle waved his arms wildly when he spied who stood behind her. “I don’t know where my brother is,” she murmured, more to herself than him.

  “He’s not coming.”

  She stopped so suddenly he crashed into the back of her. He caught her around the arms. She turned to face him. He was already tall, but taller while standing on the step above her, and she hated the way her feminine side went all gooey, and the way his big hands felt around her upper arm, and how her whole body reacted to his nearness.

  Good golly, Miss Molly.

  “What do you mean, he’s not coming?”

  The smile in his eyes finally arrived on his face. “He called me earlier. Said something about getting hung up at a friend’s place. Said he couldn’t get ahold of you to tell you, so he called me.”

  Couldn’t get ahold of her? What the heck was he talking about? She’d checked her phone at least a dozen times since they’d arrived. There weren’t any messages.

  “I wish he’d told me.”

  “Why?” His smiled faded. “Would you have changed your mind about coming tonight?”

  Would she have? “That would have disappointed Kyle.”

  His eyes slid past her and landed on her son. “So let’s not disappoint him.”

  He stepped toward her, his hand catching the crook of her elbow and gently turning her around. She stepped ahead of him, breaking the contact, but not because his touch made her fearful. Quite the opposite. She had to get away from him because she didn’t trust herself not to overact in a way that would draw his attention, maybe even make him notice what she tried to hide from him.