by Kadie Scott
“Yes. Although I was hoping to talk about this in person, but circumstance is throwing that idea out the window.”
What now? “That doesn’t sound good.”
A nervous chuckle reached him. “We’ll see.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll start with the good news.”
“Okay…”
“I’m pregnant.”
Will jerked up to sitting. “That’s wonderful! Of course that’s good news, Holly. Cash must be over the moon.”
“We both are.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
If anyone deserved a large and happy family, Holly and Cash did. Holly’d lost all the adults in her life and had had to let her younger brother and sister go into foster care as she went off to college. She’d thought for years that she wasn’t worthy of a family, but Cash had convinced her otherwise.
Meanwhile, Cash had lost his wife in a car accident. Georgia had been Holly’s best friend, yet another roadblock to their romance, and Georgia had been leaving Cash for another man that night anyway. He’d been raising their daughter, Sophia on his own ever since.
“So, what’s the bad news—” Logic sank in. “Oh.”
The fact Cash and Holly had found happiness together was a minor miracle. Will could never wish them ill, even if it did mess with his own plans. He should’ve seen this coming anyway.
She blew out a long breath. “Yeah. With the practice, and Sophia, and now a new baby on the way… I can’t keep working with the horses. I’m sorry, Will.”
“I totally understand Holly. Of course your family and your career need to come first.”
Immediately, he started spinning the issue through his mind. She’d been handling all the rodeo horses, not just the barrel racers. Will had been traveling so much, he hadn’t had time. He ran a weary hand over his face. Seriously? Today could end any time now, because he’d like to write it off. Maybe he’d ask around this week and see if anyone with Holly’s skills needed a job.
“That’s the other piece of good news. I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch. I have someone interested who’d like to take over from me. Even take on more work, coming on full time.”
Will perked up. If Holly found someone, then he knew they’d be good—
Wait. No way.
But that odd look Rusty’d sent him downstairs made a helluva lot more sense if his guess was right.
He raised his gaze to the ceiling and cringed. “Don’t tell me. Rusty Walker?”
“How’d you guess?”
Will flopped back against the bed, wincing as the delicate contraption groaned a squeaky protest at the abuse. “She’s been riding Mischief.”
“Oh, duh. Of course.”
This was way worse, because no way was he going to stress out his pregnant sister-in-law with his misgivings or trying to find someone to replace her at the ranch. Meanwhile, the stirring of interest, the small spark of something he couldn’t quite identify at the thought of having Rusty at the ranch, working with her every day… that was dangerous. Insidious. Rusty’s antagonism toward him was not exactly work friendly, and nothing was going to get in his way when it came to the business.
Holly, unware of his mental churnings, kept going. “Have you seen her ride? She’s done even better with him than I expected. She has a great reputation among the barrel riding set, and with her background, can be a real asset in your rodeo side of the business, maybe even freeing you up to pursue the racing side of things like you’ve wanted to.”
Will was too tied up on the Rusty issue to think through the business side. Still, Holly had a point. They’d both set aside Holly’s horse, Solario, who showed real speed, as an option neither of them had the time to pursue. But the horse had promise, and if he started right now…
What am I thinking? Rusty was drama, and he was anti-drama. No way could this work.
Maybe hearing the hesitation in his silence, Holly pushed harder. “You should give her a shot, Will. I know she’s perfect. And it sounds as though she’s ready to start off on her own, away from her father.”
Will sighed. “Tell you what. She’s here. I’ll set up a time to meet with her, watch her work, and go from there.”
“Fair enough.” Holly’s relief was palpable.
Ah, hell. I’m going to have to hire Rusty Walker. No way was he going to risk Holly’s health, stressing her out over this.
Still, maybe he could prove to Rusty this week that it wouldn’t work. Get her to walk away from the idea. His gut gave a kick of protest at the thought, but Will ignored it. Everything he’d worked so hard to build was too important. Family was the only thing that trumped it.
“I guess I’d better get started,” he said.
Holly laughed and told him to have a good rodeo before they hung up. Better to tackle this issue now than put it off. With a groan, Will levered himself off the bed with reluctance and went across the hall to knock on Rusty’s door. The only other door on their floor.
No answer.
Huh. Did she have plans? Or had she run off, guessing that if Will didn’t know about her job offer, he would soon enough?
He meandered back to his room and lay back down. Slack events didn’t start until tomorrow, and she was checked in here, so eventually they’d cross paths.
He flung an arm over his head and stared at the sheer white gauzy thing the B and B had draped over the iron canopy of the bed. Not that he saw it. Snapping brown eyes and glorious red hair just wouldn’t get out of his thoughts.
Dang it. The woman was hijacking his brain and now his life without his permission. For the second time, he heaved off the bed, only now he grabbed his phone and keys. Determined to track down one Miss Rusty Walker, he stuffed his hat on his head and made for the stairs, which he had to turn his feet sideways to use since they were skinnier than the length of his booted feet.
An hour later, he tracked her down at the rodeo grounds. She stood at the edge of the Old Frontier Town section of the park talking to another woman with dark curly hair. Maggie, he thought her name was, the same lady from the Rooftop Rodeo in Estes Park. As soon as she saw him, Rusty’s eyes widened. She played it off like she hadn’t noticed him walking through the few cowboys milling about and mumbled something to Maggie before turning on her heel and heading the opposite direction toward the parking lot.
Don’t you know not to run from a predator, darlin’? Will shook his head and kept after her, tipping his hat at Maggie who stared as he passed by.
Before she could get to her truck, he called out, “Rusty Walker, you’re going to have to talk to me sometime. After all, you’re trying to get a job working for me.”
That stopped her. She stood in the shadows between two campers. He wasn’t sure, but her shoulders might have moved in a sigh.
Slowly she turned to face him. “Will. I didn’t see you.”
Yeah, right.
She shifted on her feet as he finished crossing the distance between them. “I guess you’ve been talking to Holly?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He stopped a few feet away and crossed his arms. “Mind explaining?”
She nibbled at her lower lip. Nervous sign? Or was she trying to decide what to say? Either way, he had to adjust his stance thanks to the inconvenient shaft of desire that one small gesture brought on.
Not good.
“I was going to talk to you when the rodeo was over,” she said.
I’ll bet. He raised his eyebrows and waited.
Seeing he had no intention of letting her off easy, Rusty tipped up her chin and cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to leave Rising Star Ranch and… make my own way. Holly’s suggestion came at the perfect time. I think I could be a big asset to your horse operation.”
Will honestly had no idea which of those statements to address first. He went for the obvious. “You really think you could work with me, given how much you don’t like me?”
Though he still had no clue why. Nor did he plan to address the bad taste saying those words out
loud left in his mouth.
She raised a single eyebrow, the corner of her mouth tilting up. “You don’t have to like someone to work with them,” she pointed out.
Ouch. He had to stuff a reluctant laugh back down his throat. She sure didn’t pull her punches.
“True,” he drawled. “Although, when you live on their property and see that person day in, day out, it does help.”
She hitched a shoulder, her only acknowledgement. “The horses and my reputation are what matter to me. Something I thought you’d appreciate as I get the impression it’s the same with you?”
He dipped his head.
“Then we’ll get along fine. I’ll work hard, and I’m damn good.”
He believed that. “And if I partner with your father?”
She stepped back, lips flat, looking away. “It’s good business for you, so I won’t stand in your way. But do your best to leave me out of it.”
“If you’re training barrel racers or handling any of our other rodeo stock, that might be difficult.”
Her shoulders slumped forward slightly. If he hadn’t been studying her so closely he would’ve missed it. What was going on between Rusty and her dad?
“I can be professional. Dad can too,” she said. Except her grimace said otherwise.
“If you don’t mind my asking—”
“I do.”
Damn she was as prickly as a porcupine with a sore paw.
Will let out a pent-up breath. “Holly says you’re good…”
He ran a hand around the back of his neck. Was he really considering taking her on, even after their far-from-normal encounters this past week? The situation with Holly didn’t leave him much choice. Or was he making up excuses to say yes because part of him wanted to keep Rusty around?
“You won’t regret it.”
Will glanced up to encounter eyes that glittered with a need to prove something. Prove herself. Even in the shadows, he could see it.
As a rancher with a family going back generations, but who wanted to change things up from how his parents had done it, he got it. Having met her father, who was definitely a son of a bitch, he suspected, for Rusty, that need went deeper.
Finally, he nodded. “Let’s spend some time together this week. Talk horses, maybe let me see you work with Mischief, see how our methods match up and if we can work together without you calling me an asshole again.”
She winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
He raised his eyebrows in question and she sighed.
“I’ve been burned by a couple of guys who pretended to be interested in me in order to get in with my dad.”
Her explanation came out through slightly clenched teeth. Definite sore spot.
Well, that explained a lot. “I wouldn’t do that,” he promised.
She cocked her head, eyeing him in a wary way that at least now he understood.
He held out a hand. “Let’s see how this week goes, then we’ll go from there. Deal?”
Again, she nibbled at her lower lip, seeming to consider that promise carefully. After a second, she held out her hand. “Deal.”
He curled his around hers to shake, doing his damndest not to register how much softer she felt in his grasp, how tiny and yet strong.
White teeth flashed in a genuine smile, and he sucked in a breath. “You won’t regret this,” she said.
He let her go. I just might.
Chapter Five
Rusty focused on keeping Mischief steady as they waited their turn to run. She’d asked for a slack event on day one, and gotten it. The time between rides would give her long enough to get up to Rising Star, pack her stuff, and get back to Cheyenne for her next round, and, with any luck, the short go.
Nothing could beat the feel of a horse between her legs all revved up and ready to turn and burn that cloverleaf pattern. She kept a tight rein on Mischief as he pranced around to the long chute, eager and trying to go without her. They were up next.
A quick peek in the stands, which were mostly empty as the rodeo show nights wouldn’t start for another couple of days. But she couldn’t miss the black hat perched on her new boss’ head. He sat in the front row, alone, watching every move she was about to make.
“No pressure,” she muttered.
Mischief’s ears twitched back to her then forward again. Over the loud speakers the announcer’s voice blared, and she pulled her gaze off the cowboy.
“Up next, we have Rusty Walker of Rising Star Ranch out of Elk, Wyoming. Rusty was our champion barrel racer three years ago on Butterfinger. Today she’s riding Mischief Maker from High Hill Ranch. Let’s see what time Rusty gives us today.”
Rusty took a deep breath, giving Mischief more of his head as they inched closer to where she’d let him loose. She mentally ran through the run one last time. As one of the earlier contenders, she needed to set the bar. Any time under 17:55 should get her to the second round later in the week.
The announcer finished and she heeled Mischief, throwing her hands forward. The horse, already raring to go, leapt into a hard gallop. He flew across the soft dirt of the arena, barely needing her direction to hit the first barrel. She and her horse fed off each other’s energy, perfectly tuned to each other. Powerful hind quarters under him, Mischief pivoted around the obstacle before sprinting toward the next one. A quick lead change and they barely pulled up, Rusty shifted her weight both to help her horse and to keep from being thrown as they circled the second barrel in another fast pivot. With a flick of her heels, she spurred him on toward the third barrel, and around, then rode for the gate, her legs flying, flicking him with reins once, twice. Once they were through the final gate, she pulled Mischief up sharply.
“Seventeen point forty-two ladies and gentlemen. Rusty Walker has come to compete. We’d better keep an eye on this horse and rider combo moving forward.”
Yes. Rusty punched a fist in the air.
That time was better than she’d been going for, though Mischief could do it even faster. If she could put up another time in the seventeen-second space on her next round, she’d definitely move on to the short go.
A piercing whistle caught her attention and she turned in the saddle to find Will on his feet, fingers to his lips. When he saw her looking, his teeth flashed white in his suntanned face. The fact she wanted to grin back and wave at him like a loon, had Rusty pulling that reaction back almost as sharply as she’d just reined in Mischief. She nodded at Will instead, then concentrated on getting Mischief out of the way so the next competitor could try to keep up with them.
She rode him to the corral where she walked him in circles, cooling him down from his hard run.
“Damn, girl,” a female voice called out. “You trying to set the arena on fire or something?”
A glance in the direction of the sound showed Maggie standing on the bottom rail of the metal corral fence. Rusty laughed as she nudged Mischief to walk over. “I’m making sure we make the finals. Call it a job interview.”
Maggie’s black brows winged high. “Job? Are you leaving Rising Star? I didn’t think you’d ever even consider it.”
Rusty shrugged. “I finally realized I need to stand on my own two feet for… a while.” Thanks to a brain tumor and a marriage ultimatum. She still hadn’t let herself sit down and truly absorb those truths, focusing instead on getting this job.
Maggie tipped her head. “Good for you. So what job are you aiming for?”
“That was a fantastic run, Ms. Walker.”
Rusty jumped a bit in the saddle, turning to face Will, who’d managed to sneak up on them. “Thanks. I wanted to make sure I qualified for the next rounds.”
He nodded solemnly, his hypnotic blue eyes, so stark in the tan of his face, pulled her in like tractor beams. She shook off the feeling.
“You certainly did that,” he said. “Mind if I walk you back to your trailer so we can talk?”
Rusty glanced at Maggie who’d watched the exchange quietly, a small smile tugging at
her lips. “I see how the wind’s blowing. Talk to you later.” She hopped down from the fence and scooted away.
Seeing no way out of talking to Will, Rusty dismounted and led Mischief to the gate, her boots sinking into the thick, soft dirt with each step, kicking dust up to join the dust covering her from their run.
By the time she got there, Will already had it open for her. Hard not to feel petite when standing between a horse and six-foot-three of lean cowboy. Again with the inappropriate reaction to a man about to be her boss. She forced her focus and landed somewhere else… his shirt. Another funny one. This one was navy with yellow text printed sideways that read “You look funny doing that with your head.” What was with this guy and funny shirts?
After locking the gate behind her, they walked to the barn where she was keeping Mischief in an assigned stall. She didn’t have her big sleeping trailer with her this time. Good thing too, since the ranch owned that trailer, not her. Rusty tugged her hat a little lower over her eyes.
At the stall, she and Will worked in a surprisingly comfortable silence. He pulled off her saddle while she haltered the horse and tied him up to brush him down. Will also grabbed a brush, working from the other side.
“I know Holly trained him to primarily respond to leg commands, but I saw you using the reins a bit more.”
Rusty nodded. “Her technique for teaching him to bend around the barrels, using the inside leg almost like an anchor is fantastic, but he needed a little more direction between barrels and to get his speed up.”
“So if you’re training for us, what’s your method?”
Let the interview begin. Still, even through her tension, Rusty could breathe. This was her favorite thing to talk about on the planet. She could go on for days.
“Each horse is different,” she started. “The trick is figuring out what works best for that horse then finding him a rider that matches personality and style.”
“So, you don’t mind learning new techniques?”
“Heck, no. The point is the end result, an animal who can win. And I’ll be straight up with you if I think a horse isn’t meant to run barrels, or not with the client looking at him.”
