A Cowboy's Pride

by Pamela Britton

  “Thanks.”

  Her boss completely ignored Saedra. Mac called for another steer. Less than five minutes later Trent burst out of the chute one more time, although he missed. He didn’t seem disappointed, though. His nonstop grin had to be hurting his face. Twice more, he ran, catching both times, but she could tell he was exhausted.

  “I’m going to have my work cut out for me.” He coiled his rope before hanging it over his horn. “I feel like I haven’t ridden in years.”

  They were all standing around the rail, everyone but Cabe. Her boss had gone back to his cave after watching Trent catch a second time.

  “It’ll come back to you,” Saedra said. “Just give it some time.”

  But maybe it wouldn’t come back to him, Alana thought. Maybe her fears were all for nothing. Maybe this was as good as he would get.

  Shame on you for letting that cheer you up.

  “One day at a time,” she heard herself say, although once again she spoke to herself more than the group at large.

  Saedra turned away from the rail to smile in her direction. “Did you talk to your boss about letting us stay here a night or two?”

  “No.”

  It had seemed to Alana that Cabe couldn’t wait to leave the arena, because he’d shot back to his office like a squirrel to his hole. Clearly, her friend didn’t feel the need to socialize with their guests, or one guest in particular. She couldn’t believe how rude he’d been to Saedra earlier, too.

  “I’d like to fix dinner for you guys.” Saedra glanced at Mac and Trent. “I make the best barbecue ribs in Colorado.”

  Mac rubbed his belly. “Seriously. She does.”

  “I had my own catering business for years. Sold it just two months ago.” Saedra glanced at her watch. “There’s still time for me to put my horse away, run to the store and come back in time to cook.”

  Cabe wouldn’t say no to that...would he? Honestly, she had a feeling he would, although for the life of her she couldn’t understand why he’d taken such an instant dislike to the woman.

  “I’m sure he’d love that,” Alana lied. “There’s a couple empty stalls at the end of the barn. Feel free to put your horses in there.”

  And that was that.

  * * *

  WITH HIS STOMACH FULL and good friends surrounding a campfire off the Jensens’ back porch, Trent couldn’t remember ever feeling any happier.

  “Bet we could be ready to compete in time for Cowboy Christmas.”

  Cowboy Christmas. Fourth of July weekend. A time when it seemed that every city in every state had a rodeo of some kind. A weekend to make money, if you had the ability to travel.

  “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, checking his white shirt for any blobs of barbecue sauce. They’d just finished eating Saedra’s famous firehouse ribs, the scent of barbecue still hanging in the air, although they’d eaten without Cabe. Alana’s friend had professed he needed to prep for some new guests arriving tomorrow, although Trent had a feeling that had been a lie, especially after spying the way Alana and Rana had looked at each other with lifted brows.

  “We could hit three or four rodeos that weekend alone,” Mac mused.

  The sun had long since sunk below the horizon, so there was no cowboy hat on his head. He missed its presence, though, because the brim was good for hiding surreptitious glances at people. Instead, he was forced to stare outright at Alana, shadows dancing across her skin as the flames from the fire pit between them sporadically flared to life.

  “What do you think?” he asked her. “Think I could be ready for that?”

  She’d been quiet all evening, so he wasn’t surprised when all she did was shrug her shoulders.

  “I think you totally could,” Rana offered, her gaze fixed on the metal rod she held, or more specifically, the marshmallow on the end of it. “I can’t believe how well you did today. You made Baylor look like a competition rope horse.”

  Alana sat in her lodge pole chair, one with Western stars decorating the back and arms. They all sat in matching seats, all except him. He was still too weak to get up and down comfortably, so he used his wheelchair, but he didn’t mind it so much anymore. He leaned forward and clasped his hands on his lap as he waited—no, hoped—for Alana to answer.

  “It sure would be good to see you back in action,” Saedra said. “We could all practice again tomorrow.”

  Why wouldn’t she look at him?

  “Yeah, sure,” he said distractedly.

  Saedra had declared they would stay in Mac’s horse trailer with the living quarters in the front, although he wasn’t certain Cabe had liked the idea. There appeared to be some tension between Cabe and Saedra.

  “Heck, Trent,” Saedra was saying. “If you keep this up, you might even make it back to the NFR.”

  The NFR?

  His gaze shot to Saedra’s. “You think?”

  “I do,” she said with a nod.

  He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to the pinpricks of excitement her words stirred in his stomach. Was it possible? His old rope horse, Dee, was back at home in Colorado, but he’d be back there soon.

  Colorado. No Alana.

  His gaze sought hers out again. She stared into the flames, her black hair having been set loose at some point so that it flowed down the front of her shoulders, firelight staining it red in places, her black eyelashes seeming to be outlined in soot. There was so much elegance to her looks. She was the type of woman who would only grow more beautiful with age.

  “I think it’s a little early to be talking about the NFR.”

  The words came from Alana, the first ones she’d spoken in nearly an hour.

  “I think anything is possible,” he countered back.

  They stared into each other’s eyes, but then she suddenly shot up. “I’m going to retire for the evening.”

  He reared back in his chair. “No. Don’t go.” He wasn’t trying to contradict her, he just felt Saedra was right, maybe he could do it. Heck, she was the one to encourage him to believe.

  “I’m tired,” she said quickly. “Saedra, thanks for a delicious meal. Those were the best ribs I’ve ever had.”

  “But you haven’t had any marshmallows yet,” Rana complained.

  “Later, kiddo.” She came up behind the teenager, rested her hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze again, didn’t so much as look in his direction. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her as she melted away from the firelight. She didn’t have far to go, he noticed. The campfire was bright enough to illuminate a pathway off the back of the house, one that led to a single-story dwelling of some sort. He watched her disappear inside.

  “You going to go after her?”

  Saedra spoke the words, though they caused Rana to lift her head, but only for a moment. Her marshmallow had started to smoke, the smell of burnt sugar filling the air; the end of it suddenly caught on fire.

  “Darn,” he heard her mutter.

  “No, I’m not going after her,” he said softly, silently adding not yet to the end of his sentence.

  “Go after who?” Rana asked before taking a big bit of her marshmallow, eyes curious. “Alana?”

  Clearly, the teenager had no clue what was going on between them. That was good. He didn’t need youthful romanticism compounding the issue.

  “Not Alana,” Trent said. “She meant if I was going to retire for the evening, too, like Alana.” Trent shot Saedra a look of reproach. “But I was hoping you could answer a question before I turn in for the night.”

  The girl took another bite of her marshmallow, a bit of the gooey insides dribbling down her chin, which caused her to grin in a silly fashion before she swiped it away.

  “Sure.” But the word c
ame out sounding like shush, thanks to her full mouth.

  “Do you think Alana would take a job if an offer came in from the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association?”

  Rana stopped chewing, but only for a moment. “You mean, like, a full-time deal?” She frowned. “Leave the ranch and everything?”

  Trent nodded.

  She blinked, saying a split second later, “Never.” She swallowed the rest of her treat.

  “What if she met someone?” Saedra asked. Mac stared between two of them curiously.

  Rana did the same thing, her eyes darting from Mac to Saedra to Trent then back again before saying, “You guys want to set her up with someone or something?”

  Trent almost laughed. Saedra caught his eye, smiled, then said, “Something like that.”

  “Someone on the rodeo circuit?”

  “That’s the general idea,” Saedra replied.

  “Who?”

  Saedra just shook her head. “Never mind that. It won’t matter if she refuses to leave the ranch.”

  But Rana was already shaking her head. “You’re right. She won’t leave. Wouldn’t matter if it was Ty Murray you wanted her to date, although my dad told me he’s already married to some singer, but still. Alana hated being out on the road with my uncle.” The teenage girl suddenly lost her smile. “That’s how come she wasn’t with us the night it...” She frowned. “You know, when it happened.”

  The accident.

  As if suddenly needing to do something, Rana bent and fished another marshmallow out of the bag near her feet. She pulled out two this time.

  “Besides,” she added after spearing the two marshmallows, “she can’t leave now. My dad is thinking of expanding next year. We’ll need her help with that.”

  “Hmm,” Saedra mused.

  “But if the guy was local—” Rana’s smile was back on her face “—that would be a different story.” She paused. “But I don’t think there are any PRCA cowboys around here, at least none that are good enough for Alana.”

  “I would have to agree,” Saedra said. “So I guess that answers that question.”

  Trent felt the need to move. He rolled his chair back from the fire before he could stop himself. Saedra turned to him, concern shining from her eyes.

  “Gonna retire for the evening?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Do you need a ride?” Rana offered. “I can drive you down in the Mule. I’m allowed to do that.”

  “No, no. I like to stroll through the trees.”

  “But you won’t be able to see.”

  “I have super vision,” he said with a smile, but it was forced. He wouldn’t need night vision, since he had no intention of returning to his cabin. He planned to hang out near the barn until everyone went to bed. “I’ll be fine.”

  Saedra must have realized what he meant to do because she stood suddenly. “I’ll walk with you.”

  “I’m going to turn in, too,” Mac said with a yawn, lifting his arms over his head. He reminded Trent of a giant toddler.

  “All right,” Rana said, clearly disappointed.

  “Relax. I’m still here for a few more days. We can do this again.”

  He wheeled himself over to the girl, happy when she leaned forward and gave him a hug. She was a good kid, one who’d go far in college rodeo if she stuck with it.

  “You couldn’t have picked someone closer to home to dive into a relationship again?” Saedra said the moment they were out of earshot.

  “It’s not like I had this planned,” Trent grumbled.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  But he would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel some apprehension as he approached Alana’s apartment later that evening. Saedra and Mac had retired for the night. Rana, too, by the looks of it, although the fire still flared in the sunken fire pit. As luck would have it, Alana’s place had a handicap ramp, a remnant of her time spent helping Rana, he assumed. He tried to be quiet as he wheeled himself up the ramp, but his wheels made a steady clack-clack, clack-clack as they passed over wooden slats.

  “Alana,” he whispered, afraid to raise his voice lest someone hear him inside the big house. “Are you up?”

  No answer.

  Was she asleep? Or was she purposely trying to avoid him? He knocked lightly just in case she couldn’t hear him.

  “Alana?” he repeated again, louder.

  She wasn’t asleep. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. Clearly, he had his answer about whether or not she would move to Colorado for him. Based on the way she’d behaved this evening, she didn’t want to move forward in an actual relationship.

  To hell with that.

  They’d shared something the evening before. Something rare and remarkable, and he didn’t care what her thoughts were on long-term relationships, he wasn’t about to walk away.

  He tried the door. Locked. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. But then he saw it. One of the windows was open a crack. They were Dutch windows, the type that slid upward, and he didn’t hesitate as he wheeled himself forward. Relief flooded him when he managed to pull the screen off with a minimum of effort. The window lifted easily, too, but the problem was how to lift himself over the ledge. While he’d regained some of his strength, he wasn’t strong enough to lift his legs up and over the sill.

  He peeked inside.

  Darkness greeted him. A small coffee table sat under the window, next to a couch, and a lamp with a base shaped like a horse’s head sat on the table. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  With a Herculean effort he lifted himself onto the sill. He clasped the frame tightly and then shimmied backward. Thanks to months of wheeling himself around, his upper body was strong enough, but there came a time when gravity took over, and Trent knew his legs would slide inward. With a twist of his hips, first one then the other fell inside. They hit the coffee table. Hard. The lamp fell. He cursed. From the back of the house he heard, “What the—”

  But now that he was inside, he didn’t know where to go.

  He needn’t have worried. Five seconds later he was face-to-face with Alana.

  Chapter Twenty

  “My lamp!”

  Trent blinked against the sudden light and stared at her like a child who’d been caught tossing the cat into the bathwater.

  “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “It’s not broken.”

  He sat on the window sill, his eyes wide, and for some strange reason, Alana wanted to cry. Only it wasn’t so strange. She knew why. She’d spent the whole evening trying to avoid him. Had realized sometime between his debut at roping and the dinner Saedra had cooked that any relationship with him would be so complicated they shouldn’t even bother trying.

  “You have to leave.”

  “No.”

  “Trent—”

  “No.” There was a couch next to the table he’d disrupted. He grabbed the arm and lowered himself onto the plush seat. “I’m not leaving. I’ll crawl to your bedroom if I have to.”

  Her heart stopped.

  She’d been fighting a battle all evening, one centered around fear. Fear of him leaving. Fear of him breaking her heart. Fear of him returning to the rodeo circuit and finding someone who would worship the ground he walked upon, someone who’d follow him to the ends of the earth, someone who didn’t mind the long hours, the days away from home or living out of a trailer...

  Not someone who couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Rana—the girl she loved like a daughter—even for a little while.

  “I can’t.” But once again, she was speaking more to herself than anyone else. “I just can’t.”

  He shifted, wrenched himself upward, and then he was standing. “You going to make me walk to you?
”

  “Trent, no.”

  He swung his hips and his left leg moved. He almost fell, corrected himself at the last minute.

  “Let me help you.’

  “No.” He held out a hand. “I’m going to do this, Alana. For you.”

  Suddenly, she was close to tears. Of all the moments to have a breakthrough...to pass from merely standing to walking, actually walking.

  He took another step.

  She closed her eyes, but only for a second, because she wanted him to succeed, would catch him if he fell, her heart ramming her chest with every footfall.

  “I would walk to the ends of the earth for you, Alana.”

  Heat stained her cheeks. Tears, she realized. Would he? Would he give it all up for her? Stay by her side here on the ranch? Would he do that for her? Did she even have a right to ask?

  “Haven’t you guessed?” he said softly. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  No, she immediately countered. It was all an illusion. Some type of twisted Florence Nightingale thing. He didn’t have any feelings for her, not real feelings. It was just sexual attraction. She felt it, too. Criminy, she couldn’t even look at the man without her insides melting. Couldn’t touch him without wanting to caress him more. Couldn’t be near him without wanting to get closer.

  “Trent.”

  He was right in front of her now, wobbly, but only an arm’s length away.

  “Let me hold you tonight.”

  She almost laughed. Hold her? There would be no holding. She knew the moment his skin made contact with her own they would be lost. Once again she told herself to step back, out of range, but her feet refused to move, and then his hand lifted; his fingers found her cheek. She told herself not to move, but she tilted her head toward him nonetheless. Her eyes closed, and she knew, she knew it was all over.

  A split second later, she sensed the heat of his body, knew he’d closed the distance. She felt his breath on her face. His shirt smelled of smoke and marshmallows and that cinnamon-like scent that was Trent.

  “Let me make love to you.”

  He kissed her. Her whole body ignited. Just one touch and she was gone.