The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel

by Pamela Britton

  Simple.

  With a deep breath and a calm resolve, he untied Teddy and loaded him up. He checked his reflection in the driver-side window to make sure his black cowboy hat wasn’t crooked and then climbed into the truck and started the engine.

  Ready or not, here I come.

  It took a bit to make his way to the arena, but once he was close, rodeo officials cleared a path. He hung back from the rear gate, watching as the last of the saddle bronc riders tried to cover their mounts, all the while keeping an eye on the grandstands, the people milling around, even the people on horseback. This rodeo was a security nightmare, but he had no choice except to roll with it.

  His teammates arrived. They lined up next to Caro and Rio outside the arena. Over the previous month, he’d learned their names: Judy, Lori, Ann, Delilah. All of them young, lithe and amazing, but none of them as pretty as Caro. He spotted more than one cowboy eyeing the pretty blonde as she sat atop her horse, waiting. With her hair pulled back and her regal posture, she looked like a vision an artist would sculpt.

  Someone tapped his window.

  “You ready?” asked one of the rodeo producers.

  He gave the thumbs-up.

  Through the exterior of the truck, he heard the words, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a special treat for you this weekend.”

  The surge of adrenaline shooting through him made it hard to breathe. He told himself to relax as someone opened the gate, but he still needed to clutch the steering wheel to steady his hands. The truck’s engine strained once the tires sank into the deeper footing. Chance tried to ignore the hundreds of faces staring down at him. His hands gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles started to hurt.

  “The Jacksonville rodeo welcomes Chance Reynolds and his amazing rodeo misfit, Teddy!”

  That was his cue. He slipped out of the truck and the roar of the crowd nearly made him stumble backward. He could feel their presence, like an invisible force field that touched him and stirred something inside him. He waved as he headed for the back of the trailer.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Chance Reynolds comes from a long line of rodeo performers. The horse he’s performing with today is a second-generation trick horse, and you won’t believe what he can do.”

  Looking into the horse’s soulful eyes helped calm his nerves. Teddy had done this act hundreds of times. He’d probably do all the moves without commands, so it was simple for Chance to step back and let the horse out. The crowd cheered when Teddy paused and nodded his head, his long mane flying, one of his front legs pawing the ground. Colt said that happened sometimes, that Teddy loved to perform, and he would ham it up in front of certain crowds. Clearly, today was one of those days.

  “Okay, kid, let’s do it.”

  He motioned for the horse to circle. It was like being at home. Teddy set off with a flick of his head, and when he finished one circle, he changed directions. The crowd roared its approval. Chance gave the command to stop. The audience seemed to hold its breath. Chance lifted his arm. Teddy reared. There were gasps and cries of delight and then more applause, the cheers growing louder as Teddy began to hop, or dance, one hop, two, three. Chance began to relax. It was so easy, his brother’s constant schooling coming to his aid. He didn’t need to think about the next move. He simply gave the signal for Teddy to stop, and then without him asking, the horse pranced in place. Beautiful to watch. Perfect performance.

  Chance blinked. Out of nowhere, he thought of another black horse, a beautiful black mare that his dad had beaten into submission. The image made him wince. She’d been a heck of a performer, too, but Teddy performed out of love, not fear. His brother had done a remarkable job with the rescue, using a kind touch and a gentle heart. And it showed. The horse seemed to read Chance’s thoughts, smiling at the crowd all on his own.

  “Teddy, bow,” he told the horse, and the animal stretched his front legs apart, his head sinking between his knees.

  “How about that, ladies and gentlemen? But it’s not over yet. Welcome to the Jacksonville rodeo arena the Galloping Girlz!”

  And that was Chance’s cue to hop aboard. Trick riders used a line of people holding paper streamers to keep their horses from ducking off the rail. He would join those people, albeit aboard Teddy, and hold out his hand so the girls could slap it on their way by. Carolina circled around behind him, and Chance turned just in time to see Bill the Barrel Man jump out of his can. Chance laughed. Bill wore a black scarf over the bottom half of his face and a hat big enough to cover the state of Wyoming.

  “How in the hell...” He had no idea how he’d fit the damn hat into the barrel.

  “Here goes,” Chance whispered to himself.

  He’d never practiced the routine with Bill, but no one would have known it. It went exactly as it had the previous weekend when Colt had played the part of hero. Caro was perfect, too, screaming when Bill seemed to snatch her off her horse. And sore ankle or not, she landed perfectly. Bill wagged his eyebrows at the crowd, and the audience laughed, booed and happily played along.

  It was time.

  Chance nudged Teddy forward in Caro and Bill’s direction. The horse needed next to no instruction. Caro threw her hand out. Chance leaned down, reached for her, and she flung herself up behind him. Somehow it all worked. Just as they’d practiced.

  The crowd thundered their approval.

  Chance was acutely aware of Caro’s presence, but it was okay this time. He didn’t falter. Didn’t mess it all up like he had so many times before. Today they were on fire. A team. And it felt...perfect.

  They galloped toward the truck and trailer. Caro reached for the rope. She scooped it up smoothly and then stood. This, too, the audience loved, because they’d figured out what she meant to do. Bill made a big production of trying to run away, big hat flopping, pants slipping down, and suddenly Chance wanted to laugh, too. He’d never felt so free before. So at home. So perfectly at ease.

  Caro’s rope slid around Bill’s waist, and the barrel man’s arms became pinned to his side. The audience laughed, hooted and cheered. Caro somehow managed to tug Bill off his feet while standing up on Teddy and holding on to Chance. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Bill was supposed to fight the rope on his feet, but the barrel man rolled with it. The coup de grâce came as they dragged Bill out the arena. The man had layered his clothes, and they began to slide off him. Bill left behind first his black pants and then what looked like a pair of sweats and then another layer of...something. Boxer shorts, maybe. Chance struggled to keep a straight face as Caro jumped down, and he turned Teddy back toward the arena.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, give a hand for Chance Reynolds, will you? And the Galloping Girlz and the wonder horse Teddy!”

  The roar of the crowd was something to behold, and as Chance stood in the middle of the arena, waving, smiling and drinking in their applause, he realized he could get used to this. His gaze snagged on Caro standing outside the arena. Even from a distance, he could see the glint of her blue eyes. She grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

  He could get used to a lot of things if he weren’t careful.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He seemed distracted, Caro thought, as they sat outside the trailer later that night. It was so unlike Chance that Caro wondered if there was something wrong.

  “Were you unhappy with our performance?” she asked.

  His green eyes shot to hers, and his handsome face flinched.

  “God, no.”

  And that was all he said. Two words. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

  They’d stowed all the horse tack away in silence. Of course, her teammates had been around then and she hadn’t been put off by his lack of talking. But then the girls had left—gone to a rodeo dance or something. Caro had changed into a gray T-shirt and jeans and joined Chance outside.
Still nothing. They sat beneath the trailer’s awning, watching the horses eat their dinner in the makeshift corral. The sun set slowly behind them.

  “You’re so quiet,” she ventured to say.

  “Just tired.” He took a sip of his beer.

  Maybe she should have gone with the girls. However, fending off the advances of drunken cowboys had never been her thing. And with the threat of James looming, she would have been a fool to step out of Chance’s protective custody.

  She grimaced. It would probably beat sitting next to him in silence, wondering what it would be like to be with him, to be his in every sense of the word.

  “I’m going inside,” she said.

  Ridiculous. It wasn’t dark yet—not all the way. Dusk had dimmed the lights, but she could still see his face beneath his cowboy hat. He acknowledged her words with a tip of his beer bottle.

  That hurt.

  She had no idea why. She didn’t want him to fawn all over her. She was too independent for that. A little conversation would be nice, though. So it would be far easier to be out of sight, where he’d be out of mind, and she would stop thinking about what might have happened if she’d met Chance before James. Things might have been different. She might not have felt so nervous, on edge and confused when he was near. Handsome cowboys had always been a weakness, but they were usually more trouble than they were worth and that was a lesson she should have learned by now.

  “‘Night.” She started to turn away, but then quickly added, “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Welcome.”

  And that was that.

  “Crap,” she muttered, slipping inside the trailer. “Crap, crap, crap, crap.”

  She missed Inga. Maybe she should have brought the dog like Chance had said, but the thought of leaving her locked up in the trailer all day didn’t seem right, not yet, at least. Not until she learned what it meant to travel. And so she’d left her behind. Now she wished she could hold her tight. Dogs loved people no matter how undeserving they were.

  At least you’re not afraid of Chance anymore.

  She almost laughed. That was an understatement. Working together had changed that. Actually, last weekend, when he’d jumped to her defense, had changed that. The man would never hurt her. He would die trying to protect her. Actually die. Some men were worthy of love. James wasn’t.

  She sat down on the couch, and just like she had back at home, picked up a pillow and covered her face with it, screaming. She wanted to let loose some more. To deafen her own ears with her frustration, but she couldn’t, not if she didn’t want Chance charging in, coming to her rescue.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She damn near dropped the pillow.

  Chance.

  “I heard you scream.”

  “I, uh.” What to say? “Stubbed my toe.”

  Lame.

  “You stubbed your toe?” he repeated, glancing at her boot-clad feet.

  He had to know she was lying. She’d never been very good at it.

  “It was the bad leg. Jarred my ankle.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Let me have a look.”

  “No, no.” Because there he went again. Sir Galahad. The man could make her feel like a princess in need of rescuing. “I’m all right.”

  Except her nipples were erect.

  She caught a glimpse of them as she glanced down at her foot. She planted the pillow over her midsection so fast he glanced at her askance.

  She could see the spark in his eyes. He knew she felt the current of electricity between them. That she’d had fantasies about him. That when they’d performed together it was all she could do not to kiss him after his so-called rescue.

  He knew.

  “I think maybe I should leave,” she said softly. She meant sleep somewhere else. Somewhere far from her thoughts and desires.

  “Maybe you should.”

  It was all the proof she needed to know she’d read him correctly. She stood, her humiliation so acute her cheeks burned with a nearly physical pain. He must think her one of those women, the kind that couldn’t keep her hands off men and went from one man to the next. She wasn’t that type at all. She’d spent weeks warning herself away from him, and look where it’d gotten her—more attracted to him than ever before.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She tried to rush past him, but he stepped in front of her. “Don’t.”

  She didn’t want to look at him. She really didn’t. “Don’t what?”

  He inhaled deeply before he said, “Don’t leave. It’s not safe out there.”

  And it was then, at that precise moment, that Caro realized he fought it, too. That everything she felt, he did, too. That the desire coiling in her belly, teasing and taunting her, also teased and taunted him. Made his hands shake like hers. For some crazy, insane reason the realization made her want to cry.

  Lord help her. Lord help them both.

  “Maybe I could sleep with the girls—”

  “No,” he said sharply. He lifted his hands, gently touched her cheeks. “Stop saying that.” He peered intently at her with eyes the color of jade. “You can stay right here, where you’ll be safe.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She had never felt so cherished and cared for in her life. “Thank you,” she said softly. But now it was time to be brave. To be bold and do something she would never have done before James.

  She stood on tiptoes and lightly kissed him.

  He froze. She didn’t move, either, just stared into his kind green eyes. And then she did another brave thing. She walked away. Outside. Into the cold night air. Where they wouldn’t be tempted to do something crazy.

  And that was the point.

  * * *

  SHE LEFT HIM standing there, and Chance wanted to follow. Lord, how he wanted to grab her hand, to jerk her to him. Instead he went to the fridge and grabbed another beer.

  What the hell?

  He removed his cowboy hat and tossed it onto the couch. He swiped a hand through his hair. What the hell was he thinking? She wasn’t the one who should be leaving. He was.

  “Caro, wait.”

  He flung open the trailer door. She sat outside, and his relief she hadn’t gone far made him clutch the door handle tighter. That’s what happened when you became distracted. When you lost your focus. You lost sight of the objective. Keeping her safe was the objective.

  “Come inside.” He took a deep breath, trying not to focus on how pretty she looked sitting in the half-light of dusk. His lips tingled where hers had brushed his own.

  She looked up at him, and the gratitude in her eyes caused him to feel things he probably shouldn’t.

  “I’ll sit outside and keep watch.”

  “Like you did last weekend?”

  Did she know he’d spent the whole night outside? True, she’d found him in the morning, but she couldn’t know he’d been out there all night.

  She knew.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, clasping her hands in her lap. “James wouldn’t dare come after me with you around, not after what happened last time.”

  No. He wouldn’t. “Things are just easier if you come inside.”

  She sighed and gazed at the horses. Her blond hair caught the fiery dusk light.

  “What a pair we are,” she said. “Two grown adults. One of us who seems to be genetically programmed to pick the wrong man. Another one of us with a long history of keeping himself unattached, or so I’ve heard.”

  Her words drew him out of the trailer. What was the point of trying to fight it anymore?

  “I stay out of relationships for a reason,” he said.

  She held out her hand. It took him a moment to realize she wanted a sip of his beer, a beer he’d forgotten he was holding. Watching her t
ake a sip, seeing the way her lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle... Well, he needed to look away.

  “I know,” she said. “Your sister told me.”

  “Oh, yeah? What else did she tell you?” he asked, sitting next to her. This was a mistake. He should have stayed in the trailer. Or one of them should have.

  “That you never let yourself get too close. You keep your distance as a way of protecting yourself. You stayed away all these years because you can’t face the truth.”

  “And what truth is that?”

  She pinned him with a stare. “That you’re afraid.” She took another sip of his beer. “All the places you’ve been. All the gunfire you’ve faced, but the thing you most fear? Caring about something too much.”

  “What?”

  She nodded. “That’s what Claire said.”

  “She’s wrong.”

  She handed his beer back to him and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He stared at the opening of the bottle. He wasn’t afraid of caring. He loved his family so much he fought for their freedom.

  “But you know what I just realized?” She met his gaze again. “So what? You’re a damn fine man, Chance Reynolds. Any girl would be lucky to spend just one night with you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t need commitment, or want it,” she said, leaning toward him. “I just want one night. And before you say it, I know you plan to leave soon and never come back. I understand.”

  What was she saying?

  “I’m going back inside the trailer.” She stood slowly. “I’ll be waiting there for you. If you don’t follow, that’s okay. But if you do, I think it’ll be a night neither of us will ever forget.”

  She walked by, touching him on her way past, just a brief caress, but enough to convince him she was right.

  Something awaited him. Something that might be remarkable and spectacular. Something he should maybe avoid at all cost.

  Something he was helpless to resist.

  Chapter Seventeen