The Cowboy and the Angel

by T. J. Kline

  “It’s a great idea, Joe. It’s worth taking the chance.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re already on thin ice at the station. They are tired of you rocking the boat, Gigi. If you stick with this nonsense and the story doesn’t get ratings, the station is going to let you go. You realize that, right?”

  Angela took a deep breath, trying to think rationally. She looked over at her father, who was seated beside Mike. For the first time in years he looked content, and so far the change in scenery and companionship had kept him out of trouble, stirring a hope in her she’d never felt before. It wasn’t the first time Joe had issued the warning, but it was the first time she’d ever been this close to putting their past behind them. But if this story didn’t pan out and she had to return to their apartment, or worse, if she got fired . . . Angela didn’t even want to consider that alternative.

  Sydney and Mike looked at her expectantly. They’d gone out on a limb for her, something no one but her mother had ever done for her. Even Scott had showed her more kindness and support than Joe. She couldn’t understand why he was balking at this story. It was far better for her career than the mall openings and puff pieces she’d been doing for the past two years. She frowned, looking at Derek, realizing he was the reason Joe was pushing her to drop the story.

  Joe followed her gaze. “What’s going on with the two of you?”

  “Nothing,” she assured him, tearing her eyes away from Derek. Glaring at her and Joe, Derek looked callous and uncompromising; the tender man she’d been kissing only moments before was gone.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Joe, you gave me a two weeks to bring back a killer story. The station owners agreed to that.”

  “You know I can’t stay at their ranch or do several of these.” He waved his arm at the crowd of people waiting for the band to start playing. “I have a station to run, and other reporters who are bringing me regular stories that go on the air every day.” He glanced back at Derek and reached for her hand, drawing her into an awkward embrace. “It’s not the story I’m worried about. I’m worried about you getting your heart broken by some redneck cowboy with a girl waiting for him at every rodeo. He probably has a few here tonight.”

  She felt his lips moving against her hair, and she shivered as her entire being objected to his intimate caress. Joe stepped back and cupped her face in his hands. “Even if you don’t want to be with me, I don’t want to see you end up being just another romp in that guy’s bed.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * *

  “WHAT THE HELL, Robert? I thought you said she didn’t have another story.” Joe wiped his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. “I do not want to be stuck sitting at this rodeo all weekend watching her with that horseback Romeo.”

  “I said I didn’t know,” Robert reminded him.

  Joe threw his hands into the air in frustration. “She’s going to get hurt.”

  Robert twisted his mouth and pinched his lips. “I thought you wanted to see her happy.”

  Robert glared at him. “Of course I do, but with me.”

  Robert laid a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder. He might not have been sober throughout most of Angie’s childhood, but he’d seen enough to know that Joe thought he was in love with her. He was secretly glad things hadn’t worked out between the pair. Joe was far too possessive and domineering. The more he saw the two of them together, the more he realized Joe quenched the fire in his daughter. Derek Chandler challenged her, making him a far better match for her. “Let her go, son. There’s a girl out there for you. It just isn’t my Angie.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s pretty obvious she and Chandler have a connection.”

  “She can’t possibly be serious about him. She barely knows him.” Joe frowned. “Maybe she’s just using him for the story.”

  Robert snorted. “Not if the kiss I saw earlier was any indication.” He patted Joe’s shoulder again. “Let her go.”

  Joe brushed his hand away. “You might not care enough to stop this, but I’m not going to sit by and let Gigi get hurt.”

  “She’s a big girl. I’m warning you. You’re making a mistake, Joe. Leave them alone.”

  “She’s a girl in a woman’s body.” Joe narrowed his eyes as he watched Angie talking with Sydney. “She has no idea what she needs or wants.” Robert didn’t like the storm he could see brewing in Joe’s eyes.

  ANGELA STOOD IN the trailer staring at the roll-out bed. There was no way that Scott and Derek would both fit on it. With each man well over six feet tall, their legs would dangle from the end. She and Sydney could share it but they wouldn’t have room in the bed for Kassie, whose playpen was put away since there wasn’t enough room now. This was a mess, and she blamed Joe for showing up unannounced.

  Derek entered the trailer and, seeing her standing by the bed, made his way to the other side, tossing his change of clothing on the floor farthest from her. He’d ignored her for the rest of the evening, heading back down to the trailers. This was the first she’d seen of him since he stormed off. Instead of a magical evening dancing under the stars and culminating wherever his kisses might lead, they’d somehow made a wrong turn where she now stood face to face with his contempt, and she wasn’t even sure why.

  “Would you mind telling me what I did? One minute you’re kissing me, the next you won’t speak to me.” She crossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

  Derek sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off, standing them by the wall alongside the bed. He removed his socks and stuck them inside before rising, turning to look at her. She could see his disappointment clearly. “We had a deal: one day.”

  “Okay?”

  He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops on his pants. “I asked you to tell me the truth and you lied to my face.” He tucked the huge silver buckle into a boot and stood with his hands at his hips, waiting for her response.

  “I didn’t lie.” What in the world was he talking about? Derek shook his head and shrugged. Turning his back to her, he pulled his shirt over his head, laying it across the top of the boots.

  “Derek, I don’t know . . .” He turned back toward her and her brain stopped working.

  He was chiseled perfection. She couldn’t have imagined a more perfect specimen of manhood. She couldn’t keep her eyes from his bare chest. His bronzed skin gleamed in the light from over the small stove, casting shadows over every valley and crevice. The muscles of his chest tensed under her gaze and she tried to ignore the way his broad shoulders tapered to a V at his waist with just the slightest trail of dark hair ending at the waistband of his pants. The sight of him struck her dumb, and she couldn’t recall what he’d just said.

  He covered the space separating them in two steps. His hands cupped her jaw as he pressed his lips to hers. His tongue found hers and danced, sending spirals of pleasure coursing over her skin. Lightning shot through her veins and she reached for his shoulders to hold herself upright. The touch of her fingertips on his skin was more than she could bear. She sighed against him, whispering his name.

  “Tell me you don’t feel that, that this is just another story.”

  She could hear the anger and frustration in his voice, but his touch was tender as his mouth trailed to her throat, moving the strap of her dress aside. His lips found her collarbone, burning kisses over the bared skin.

  “No,” she whispered, her fingers curling against his upper arms.

  Coherent thoughts were no longer a function of her brain as she reveled in the desire swirling through her body, surrounding her with heightened sensitivity to his touch. He pressed a kiss against the swell of her breast, just above the bodice of her dress, and the rasp of his jaw made her cry out in pleasure. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, and she pressed herself against him, lost in the fierce longing he’d ignited. No man had ever taken her to this place of need and want and hunger. His hands trailed up her spine, arching her t
oward his lips, pressing their lower bodies together. She gasped at the contact.

  The footsteps on the stairs registered only seconds before Sydney opened the door. She paused in the doorway, seeing the two of them. “Um,” she hedged, glancing back at Scott over her shoulder. “Scott, I can you go with me to get something from the truck.”

  Heat flooded Angela’s cheeks, a blush rushing upward from her toes.

  “Don’t worry, Syd.” Derek looked down at Angela and his eyes hardened. “I was just leaving.” Grabbing his shirt and boots, he brushed passed Sydney and Scott.

  Sydney hurried to move out of his way as he hurried down the stairs, and Angela straightened her dress quickly. She knew there was nothing she could do about her kiss-swollen lips or the red marks on her shoulder from his whiskered jaw. She could barely catch her breath.

  “What’s gotten into him tonight?” Sydney asked Angela, worry creasing her brow.

  “I’ll be back in a second.” Scott followed Derek toward the truck as Sydney shut the door.

  DEREK WAS SO angry he hadn’t realized he’d walked to his truck barefoot until he stepped on a sharp rock and the pain broke through the haze of his indignation. “Damn it!” He hobbled the rest of the way to his truck and turned on the inner light to inspect his foot.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Scott braced his hands on the door of the truck and shook his head.

  “Checking my foot.”

  “I don’t mean your foot, you idiot. I mean with Angie, and you know it.”

  “Is everyone calling her Angie now?” Derek asked sarcastically, looking up at his brother. He wanted to assure Scott he had the entire situation under control, to deny his desire for her, but he knew he couldn’t. Scott knew it, too, which was probably why he was standing here instead of heading to bed with his wife.

  Derek ran a hand through his short hair and sighed. “I have no clue,” he admitted.

  “You’d better figure it out, because right now you’re spun out of control and you’re making mistakes. This isn’t like you.”

  Derek hung his head. “I’m doing the best I can, Scott. At least it doesn’t look like the story is going to happen.”

  “I’m not talking about the story.” Scott threw his hand up before slapping his thigh. “Man, you really aren’t thinking right now. I’m talking about that woman in there. I thought I was in denial with Sydney but you’re making me look like a genius.”

  “I’m not going to be used again, especially for some story,” Derek spit out. He didn’t want to believe it, but, remembering the woman who’d tried to con her way into an interview, Derek couldn’t deny Joe’s accusation was likely.

  Scott closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead. “Are you even listening to yourself? You said she couldn’t even flirt when you first met her, remember? Do you really think she could flip a switch and be good enough, overnight mind you, that she could get a story out of you?” Derek could hear the frustration in his brother’s voice. “Look, I’m not one to push anyone into a relationship, but she’s fighting with her boss to come up with any sort of story to stay close to you!”

  “She needs a story to get her father away, to get a promotion. She just wants to move on to bigger and better things and avoid going back to their old neighborhood.” Derek sighed, got out of the truck, and stood in front of his brother. He outweighed him by at least twenty pounds of solid muscle and was almost half a head taller, but Scott didn’t back down a bit. “I’m not the only man she’s tried to seduce for a story, okay?”

  Scott shoved Derek’s shoulders, knocking him off-balance. “She’s not even doing the story on us anymore, you idiot. You are so stubborn. Sydney’s right, you don’t deserve her.”

  The fight instantly drained from Derek. He trusted Sydney even more than his family and she knew him better than any of them. “Syd said that?”

  “Yes,” Scott said, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I suppose her opinion matters more than mine.”

  Derek rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

  Scott laughed. “Whatever. Look, I had my doubts about her when she first came, you know that, but so far Angie hasn’t done anything to warrant this. I appreciate how you’ve stepped up and taken over, and you’re doing a great job, but don’t let this”—he waved a hand at the trailers—“rob you of someone you care about. Go talk to her.”

  He shook his head, jutting out his jaw. “She lied to me. She looked me in the eye and lied. How can I trust anything she says?”

  “Are you sure she was the person who lied?” Scott looked pointedly toward Joe and Skip talking quietly outside the trailer. “Be careful whose word you take.”

  “I HAVE NO idea what happened.” Angela sat at the edge of the roll-out bed while Sydney rocked Kassie on her hip. “One minute he was fine, the next he was furious and accused me of lying to him.” She looked up and shrugged. “I don’t know what I did.”

  “Did you? Lie to him, I mean,” Sydney asked quietly.

  Angela wracked her brain. There was nothing she’d blatantly lied about, although there were plenty of things she’d avoided discussing with him. She recalled his question just before Joe and Skip arrived, his reaction to their arrival, and the dark fury in his eyes whenever she spoke with Joe. Pieces started to fall into place. For some reason, this was about Joe. She told Sydney her suspicions.

  “Oh my goodness,” Sydney exclaimed, “he is more like Scott than I thought. Stupid, fool men,” she ranted and began to pace. “I should punch him. He probably thinks you’re using him to make Joe jealous. You have to understand, Derek is big on loyalty, all of the Chandlers are, and if they suspect anything even remotely traitorous, they turn tail. I know from experience.”

  “Sydney, there is nothing between Joe and me. And, as much as I love your idea for a story, unless rodeo is as dangerous as you say . . .”

  “It is,” she said soberly.

  “If it’s not, it really won’t matter how Derek or I feel because I’ll be back doing feel-good pieces on Monday.”

  “Don’t give up yet. I’ll talk with Derek in the morning and see where his head is. All of us can see he cares about you, and with Derek, that’s enough for him to take the risk.”

  ANGELA LAY STARING up at the ceiling, the sound of Sydney’s even breathing and an occasional quiet snore from Scott were the only sounds breaking the silence in the trailer. She heard a quiet giggle from Kassie as if she were laughing in her sleep. The near silence grated on her frayed nerves. She couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Sydney. Didn’t Derek realize how much she was beginning to trust him, or how much it meant to her that he returned that trust? At least, she’d thought he did. She shifted on the roll-out bed, trying to find a spot that wouldn’t press uncomfortably into her back.

  She had seen Derek talking with Joe before she was able to get close to them and wondered what was said to send Derek into such a foul mood. She had seen the look that passed between them at the police station, as if she were a bone to fight over, but could Derek really think she would respond the way she did to him if she was in love with Joe? What kind of woman did he think she was?

  She wiggled and tried to adjust the pillow under her head, punching it, realizing his assessment might not have been too far from the truth a few weeks ago. In the past, when she wanted a story, she hadn’t hesitated flirting to get an inside scoop or lying to get ahead of the competition. And she’d never spent any time worrying about who might get hurt in the process, whether it was her subject or a fellow reporter. Somewhere in the past week, she’d done what she’d sworn she never would—become emotionally attached to the subject of her story.

  She swiped at the tear burning a path down her cheek. “And this is why you don’t, you idiot,” she whispered in the darkness. She sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for the quilt Sydney had laid at the foot. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she silently crept from the trailer and slumped in one
of the lawn chairs outside, staring up at the stars.

  She still marveled at how the stars could be so brilliant away from the city lights in the night sky. Only a single light at the other end of the arena marred the perfection of the slivered moon. She twisted the blanket around her and curled her legs under her, wondering if her mother was watching her now and whether she would be proud of the way her daughter had turned out. She hated to admit she didn’t feel optimistic at the thought.

  Her gaze strayed to the trailer where her father was sound asleep. How was she going to help him stay sober? Did he even want to? She had no clue what to do about him after this weekend. Taking him back to the apartment was bound to lead right back to the destructive path he’d been on. Mike had offered room for both of them at the ranch, but would he even want to go? As much as it would make things easier for her, it wasn’t fair to Mike or the Chandlers.

  She’d never met anyone like Mike or the Chandlers. They knew what she did for a living, knew she could destroy them professionally, yet they had opened their home and their hearts to welcome her. She’d never experienced that sort of selflessness. Her life had been repeated lessons in learning to take from people before they took from you. She used people before she was used by them. Angela had never known a time when she didn’t have to scrimp and claw her way just to reach mediocrity, and she refused to be shackled there by guilt and recriminations of her past. But in her need to get ahead, leaving guilt behind, she was becoming someone she hated, forced to stifle more guilt when she backstabbed a coworker or tricked someone into giving away something in order to make her interview more controversial.

  She saw the shadow of the horses wandering inside their pen in the darkness. I guess they don’t sleep either.

  Angela made her way toward the makeshift corral. She had lost her fear of horses, thanks in part to Derek’s patience and Honey, the gentle mare he’d taught her to ride. She leaned on the top rail of the corral fencing and laid her chin on her wrists as Honey walked up to her, nudging her for an apple. She’d developed a habit of bringing the mare a treat when she visited her, hoping to remain on her good side.