by Karen Rock
“Nice?” scoffed Jared. “Harley would have had a fit if he couldn’t have seen Emily. He didn’t give us a choice...not that we would have said no.”
Emily giggled. “Can he come here so I can give him another hug?”
Harley pulled on his bit. “Just try to stop him,” Amberley exclaimed, nearly dragged over to Emily’s wheelchair.
“Want to stop by my ranch later?” Jared asked after the mother and child departed. “Petey’s got something he’s dying to show you.”
“Petey, huh?” Her lips quirked up in the corners. “In that case...”
A few hours later, she rocked beside Jared on his porch swing. Crickets thrummed in the brush, and fireflies lit up the deepening twilight. Cade Ranch’s trademark tea roses must still twine around the railing and pillars, she mused, breathing in their intoxicating, floral scent. The swing’s chained hook creaked as they pushed forward and back. When the firm curve of Jared’s muscular bicep brushed against her shoulder, she shivered despite the balmy June air.
“Cold?” His deep baritone seemed to vibrate through her.
“No,” she said, then clenched her teeth to hide their chatter.
“Want something to drink?” He must have gestured because their hands brushed. An electric spark shot up her wrist.
“No.”
“Do you want me to take you home? Petey can do his demonstration another time.”
She shook her head, annoyed at herself for acting like one of Jared’s besotted girls. Since the kiss, she’d become hyperaware of him. Hearing him work with the children in his confident, caring and humorous way kept her in turmoil over her confusing new feelings. She “saw” him differently than the success-driven athlete who’d had one single focus: himself. Even though she no longer had a visual, what she imagined filled her with longing to touch the smile she pictured on his handsome face...to kiss it, too.
They’d given in to a moment of weakness, but this week’s camaraderie proved their friendship was special. She needed to control her burgeoning feelings or risk losing one of the most important relationships in her life.
“Can’t we let Petey go yet?”
She peered at the furry black-and-white blur sitting motionless on the porch’s edge.
“Nope. We’ve been practicing. He’s got to learn to wait for you when you run errands and such.”
“I’m not planning on running any.”
“Who’s going to do your shopping? Bring you to the post office? Take you to church?”
She opened her mouth to say “my mother,” then snapped it shut. No. She wouldn’t rely on her mom or anyone else. Jared was right. She needed Petey. Could the rambunctious dog sustain his perch much longer? It’d been nearly five minutes.
“Stadiums allow service dogs, right? I could attend a Broncos game again, like old times, or whichever team you’re signing with.”
“No.”
The perch twisted on its chain as Jared shoved off it and paced the porch.
No? Shame twisted through her. Maybe he didn’t want a disabled girl cheering him on. He probably had a harem of pretty women to do the job. “I see.”
Suddenly his long strides halted before her. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“That I don’t want you there.”
In the silence, a small whimper escaped Petey. She wanted to cry with him.
“Look. This isn’t easy for me to say, and I should have told you the whole truth before.”
“You don’t need to spell it out.” She grasped the swing’s arm, stood and sidestepped him. “Petey, come!”
With a joyous bark, the dog launched himself across the porch and leaped at her knees.
“Yes, I do, Amberley. Down, Petey.”
The pup flopped back to the floor at Jared’s stern command. An exasperated woof escaped him.
“Up, Petey.” Toenails scratched on wood as he scrambled back to his feet, then seemed to settle. Something thumped steadily. His tail, she guessed. “Look. I get it.”
A strong hand caught her elbow. “I didn’t quit the Broncos exactly. And I’m not signing with another team. They just don’t want me back as a starter. No one does.”
Surprise walloped her behind her knees, making them wobble. “As in never, or just until your ACL is healed?”
A long breath blew past her ear. “Let’s sit.”
At her nod, he led her back to the swing. Petey threw himself across her feet once they’d settled into the deep cushions.
“Could you still play for them, even if you don’t start?”
“I’d be a second-stringer at best.”
She let that sink in a moment. Returning to the Broncos as a second-stringer would be unacceptable to him. He always strove to be the best, number one, just like her.
“But you could work your way back up...”
A raspy tongue glided over her bare ankle. She reached down, groped for Petey and scratched behind his ragged ears.
“It’s possible. But our sports doctor said there’s not much chance I’ll improve beyond this.”
Understanding welled. They’d bonded over their thirst to win, and now she felt an even deeper kinship with Jared.
They’d lost their dreams. But maybe not each other.
Would having him back in her life full-time, just as a friend, be enough?
“What’ll you do now?” she asked once Petey scampered off the porch, barking madly after a squirrel, she supposed.
“I was going to ranch full-time. But then I started thinking about you and the kids in the program. Seeing how hard everyone tries made me decide not to give up. Maybe I can’t play professional ball, but I could still start on a local semipro team. I shouldn’t give up what I love doing just because I can’t be at the top.”
She considered that a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He clasped her hands and squeezed. “And neither should you.”
She blinked up into his blurred face. “What?”
“I’ve got an idea about getting you back into barrel racing.”
She jerked her hands away. “That kind of pie-in-the-sky nonsense only works on little kids like Emily.”
“Hear me out.”
Anger washed hot inside her. “Stop telling me what I must and mustn’t do.”
“But...”
“You’re acting just like my father.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Your father was a great man.”
“He was...but he was also a taskmaster. He pushed me hard and I let him, I wanted to make him proud—something I never did unless I won.”
“Not true. He talked you up all over town.”
“Talked up my wins, I’ll wager.”
Jared’s silence was affirmation.
“Anytime I placed second or worse, my dad wouldn’t talk to me for days, he’d be so upset. Now, whenever I think about trying and failing, I remember those silences, how much they hurt, how it felt not to be perfect, number one.”
“He rejected you.”
“No. He was trying to teach me a lesson and make me the best I could be.”
“But he’s not around to judge you anymore. You can judge yourself.”
“It’s impossible anyway.” She shooed away a buzzing mosquito. She’d only just gotten used to her limitations. She wouldn’t let Jared get her hopes up. The fall, when reality returned, might finish her off completely. “I heard from a buyer today. I have an offer on Harley.”
“You can’t accept it.”
“Because you say so?” she demanded, done with Jared’s high-handed control.
“Yes. Since I own half of Harley.”
Chapter Eight
JARED SHOVED HIS hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Amberley. Sta
nding with her back against the porch railing, her tense shoulders near her ears, she looked fit to be tied. Beneath that, he glimpsed fear. Fear of failure. The result of a well-meaning parent unintentionally doing a bit of harm. Hearing about her experiences with her father only strengthened Jared’s resolve to get Amberley back in the rink. She alone would decide if she was worthy, and he’d make darn sure she did. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled, and humid air pressed all around, dark and heavy.
“Your stake in Harley’s just a technicality.” Her beautiful blue eyes searched for him. He stepped closer and cleared his throat so she could locate him. “He’s my horse.”
“You can’t sell him without my say-so.”
Her blond brows lowered and met over the straight bridge of her nose. “I should have bought out your share.”
“Glad you didn’t.”
An exasperated noise escaped her pale lips. “I trusted you.”
“Trusting me is the smartest thing you can do, darlin’.”
“Don’t call me that!”
Her vehement tone caught him off guard. He called lots of woman darlin’. Why did she act like it meant something?
Because you mean it when you say it to her, a voice said inside him.
Since their kiss, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Amberley. Her beauty was undeniable, but his attraction went deeper than physical. He’d always admired her fearlessness. Now, he saw real courage, conviction and strength in her work at Spirit Ranch. Her patient, supportive approach with the awestruck children inspired them, and him, to try harder.
Not one for complaining, she faced her vision loss head-on, determined to keep her independence. That took true grit. The real measure of a man—or a woman—wasn’t counted in wins, but in how many times you got up after you’d been knocked down.
Amberley’s no-quit attitude made her a real champion. A hero like he’d promised his father to be. She’d transformed from his win-or-bust, competition-hungry kindred spirit. Adversity had stripped her of her sight, and he’d never seen her, and her big heart, clearer.
Did he have any right to it?
He slid his fingers through the silky strands of her blond hair. “What should I call you?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth trembled. “Stop.”
Her fresh, citrusy scent made him breathe deep. “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me!”
She brushed him aside and moved forward a couple paces. Petey leaped between her and a rocking chair, herding her the way he did the cattle, halting her momentum before she stumbled into it.
“I’m not flirting with you,” he objected.
Liar.
He flirted with all women, and, until now, it’d seemed harmless. But with stakes high, his friendship with Amberley on the line, he shouldn’t be sending mixed signals.
He had no business messing with her emotions. He dated casually, and Amberley was anything but casual to him. If he jeopardized their friendship, he’d lose her.
Yet deep down, he sensed friendship wasn’t enough anymore.
“Sell me your stake in Harley,” she insisted. Her eyes flashed his way.
He ran a hand over his face. “No.”
“He’ll be miserable stuck at Spirit Ranch,” she cried. When she gestured, her hand smacked the chair spindles, and she winced. His protective urge reared up. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull her clear of the chair and shield her from this hurt and every other pain that might ever come her way.
He forced his mind back to Harley and his antics with the children. “Looks happy enough to me.”
“But it’s not good enough.”
“For him or for you?”
Her lashes dropped to her red-stained cheeks. “He deserves a shot at being a champion.”
“So do you,” he said, meaning it. The world needed real heroes like Amberley. It killed him that she didn’t see herself the way he did.
She opened her eyes and scrunched them, skeptical. “And how are you aiming to make that happen? Harley being a Pegasus is more likely.”
“I’ll guide you through a course with a walkie-talkie.”
“How?”
“We’ll fix one to Harley’s saddle. I’ll call out when you’re coming on a barrel and need to turn.”
A short laugh burst from her. “That easy, huh?”
“No. But it’s a start,” he insisted, defensive. He’d always been a risk-all, fear-nothing, have-no-regrets kind of guy. Amberley had been that way once, too. He needed to remind her and plant her back in the winner’s circle where she belonged, no matter what it took. The odds might be against them, but he’d bet on Amberley every time.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice broke as a picture of Amberley, crumbled on the ground, flashed in his mind’s eye. Barrel racers hit speeds of fifty miles an hour. A shiver ran behind his ribs. He could be sending her to the hospital or worse.
His back teeth clenched. That. Would. Not. Happen. He’d keep her safe. “Promise.”
Bright headlights passed over the porch as a sedan approached. The purring engine slowed and a car door slammed.
“Hey there, Jared! Looks like a storm’s comin’ on.”
“Hey, Mrs. James.”
Amberley groped her way to the railing, then trailed her hand along its top until she reached the stairs.
“Amberley, wait.”
She whirled, and the anguish on her face shot an arrow straight through his chest. “I’m sorry, Jared, but I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“What’s the difference?” Her hands stretched his way. He leaned forward so she could reach him, and her fingers landed on his arm. “If you really care about me, sell out Harley’s share.”
“I care,” he vowed. Precious girl. He loved her more than anyone else in the world.
“But you won’t sell.”
“I won’t, because I care.”
For several seconds, only the burbling car engine disturbed the silence. Then, when the quiet stretched to its breaking point, she shook her head, stepped off the steps, grasped her mother’s hands and disappeared into the car.
He stared down the dark, empty drive, feeling as if somebody pumped a numbing agent into his arteries.
His brother Justin clapped his shoulder. “Real men don’t make war on women.”
Jared nodded slowly. “I’m trying to convince her I’m not the enemy.”
“She’ll come around. You always get the girl.”
Funny how that’d never really mattered to him before now. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and stared at the heat lightning cracking the mountaintops. “Maybe not this time.”
Jewel joined them, her fingers fiddling with a sparkling band wrapped around one of her braids.
“You look pretty,” Jared observed.
“She took a two-hour bath.” Justin lifted a dark brow. “And those are new jeans.”
“Cowgirls don’t take baths, they dust off,” scoffed their older brother, James. The screen door creaked as he closed it behind him. “What’s the occasion?”
Jewel’s shrug appeared a mite too casual. “Just going to the pool hall.”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t Heath Loveland’s band playing there tonight?”
Jewel toed a circle in the birdseed that’d spilled from the porch feeder. “Could be.”
He and his brothers exchanged a long look. Teasing Jewel about a supposed crush on Heath had been one of their favorite ways to torment their little sister. Tough as nails, little got her goat except this ongoing joke.
Could it be true?
He shook off the crazy thought. Cades and Lovelands didn’t mix. Speaking of which...
“Saw Ma and Boyd line dancing
last night.”
Justin swore a blue streak and Jewel stomped a boot. Strangely, James remained suspiciously quiet. “Did you know about that?” he asked his older brother.
James eyed each of them steadily. “Sofia mentioned Ma might see him there.”
“And you didn’t put a stop to it?” Jewel demanded, a fair-enough question for their controlling brother.
“Nope. Promised Sofia I wouldn’t interfere.”
“Were they dancing together?” Jewel asked.
“Yep. And Boyd called me son,” Jared said.
Justin kicked the railing. “Low-down, son of a—”
“Better watch your mouth, sunshine,” James growled, angling his head up at Javi’s open bedroom window.
“Something’s got to be done, and if you ain’t gonna then it’s on us,” Jewel declared, slowly, as if puzzling out a problem.
James spread his hands. “Like I told Sofia, I’m not interfering.”
“Want some company at the pool hall?” Jared doffed his hat and ran a hand through his damp, matted hair.
Jewel peered, back forth, between Justin and him. “Maybe. Why?”
“We need a word with Heath Loveland.” Justin laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles.
Jewel’s eyes widened. “You’re not threatening him!”
“Why? You want to do it?” Jared asked easily. “Ladies first after all.”
“N-no,” Jewel stammered. “Heath’s harmless. He’s not like the other ones.”
Justin hooted. “Jewel’s got it bad for Heath.” He trucked down the stairs to avoid her left hook, hopped on his chopper and grabbed his helmet. “Last one there’s a Loveland.”
Jared scrambled after him, “Unless you want that being your last name, better hurry, Jewel.”
A couple of hours later, Jared, Jewel and Justin crowded around a high-topped table with Maverick, Heath and Daryl Loveland. The place reeked of whiskey and sweat, but that could just as likely be the Lovelands.
“Everyone agreed on the plan?” asked Maverick.
All nodded.
Jared forced himself to shake Maverick’s hand. “It’s a deal. You hold up your end of the bargain, we’ll keep ours, and our parents won’t want anything to do with each other when we’re done.”
