So why shouldn't she use her looks?
Kylie had supported her plans to enter this larger competition in Austin, though McKenna's best friend didn't know the depths of desperation she felt to escape her life.
But McKenna had a niggling worry that the hometown title had been a fluke. What did she really have to offer to the larger rodeo community?
She needed the scholarship money if she was going to get out of her minimum wage job as a grocery store checker. Since her tenth birthday, she'd dreamed of being an attorney, a better one than her father’s.
She couldn't give up now.
2
Gideon Hale strode through the outdoor rodeo grounds in full mission-planning mode. Early afternoon sunlight warmed his head and shoulders, though a brisk breeze ruffled his hair.
The former Navy SEAL had agreed to this plan of Alessandra's, but that was before he'd seen this venue.
His contacts had turned up a lead on the lost princess of Glorvaird, Alessandra's half sister, and they'd come to Austin to try and meet up with her at the rodeo.
The fairgrounds were a nightmare. Right now, they were fairly empty. The rodeo queen competition would begin tonight, and several RVs and horse trailers had parked in the venue's large lot, but the dirt-packed arena and other fairground buildings were empty and quiet.
He imagined them filled with cowboys and cowgirls, moms and dads and kids. Most of the people attending the rodeo would be here for the fun and the competition.
But if somewhere were here with evil intentions… Well, there were too many places to hide. Nooks and crannies between buildings. Even rooftops, where a sniper could have easy access.
The fairgrounds were impossible to secure, even with a larger force than the hired security team he'd assembled.
And he was dreading going back to the upscale Austin hotel and telling Alessandra that he didn't want her out here in the open.
After the huge engagement ball they'd hosted back home had gone off without a hitch, and after five months with no further credible threats, Alessandra seemed to believe that the target was off her back.
He wished he could be so sure, but his time in the military had taught him that threats rarely ever just went away. They might go dormant for a period.
But they always came back.
And it was his job to protect her. She'd nearly died on his watch, and he'd vowed never to let that happen again.
The problem was that Alessandra had recently learned about her half sister, the product of an illicit affair of her father's, and she was determined to meet the girl and bring her back to Glorvaird before the king died. With their upcoming wedding—a huge shindig that would take place in a Glorvaird cathedral with five hundred attendees—only six weeks away, Alessandra seemed even more determined to locate the princess now.
The missing princess had a last known residence in the States but had dropped off the map until recently. His contacts had turned up a barrel racer on the rodeo circuit who matched the age and birth date of the missing princess.
They still weren't one hundred percent sure this Tara Ballard was the princess they were looking for. It would take a DNA test to confirm her true identity, but Alessandra refused to be placated or to let Gideon handle the issue.
Alessandra had some kind of idea that if she saw this girl, she'd instantly know whether or not it was her long-lost sister.
He'd tried to caution her about getting her hopes up. Tried to tell her that the other woman might not want to connect, that there might be a reason she'd fallen off the map.
But nothing would stop his fiancée’s optimistic hopes.
He'd promised to try. And he would.
But his first priority would always be Alessandra's safety. So how could he convince her to stay away from the rodeo over the next week?
Pieter couldn't contain his curiosity about his passenger as he drove the truck southwest along a flat, straight two-lane highway.
A rodeo queen.
He'd met plenty of models and actresses, had even dated a couple.
McKenna just didn't seem the type. Oh, she was pretty enough. Striking even, with her elfin features and bright eyes.
In his experience, women who were interested in pageants and modeling were usually vapid, extremely interested in fashion and money—his money—and self-absorbed.
And yeah, he'd only just met her, but he sensed that McKenna was more hometown girl than anything else.
So what was her deal?
"How'd you get into pageanting?" he asked. "Was your mother a rodeo queen or something?"
She was still staring out her window, and he couldn't take his eyes off the road for very long, but a sidelong glance at her revealed a wistful expression crossing her face.
"Yes. A long time ago. Last summer one of my cousins entered me in a local queen competition as a joke. But I went through with it and won. So…now I'm here."
There had to be more to it than that. He knew there must be. But she didn't seem to want to say more.
She set her chin again and looked his way. "What about you? What business do you have in Austin? You're obviously not a native Texan."
His shoulders wanted to tense, but he'd had many years of practice in hiding his true feelings, so he merely tightened his grip on the steering wheel and forced a smile he didn't feel. "I'm actually heading to the rodeo, as well. I'm meeting someone."
From the corner of his eye, he saw the tilt of her head. Felt her glance. "Hmm."
That was it. She hmmed.
"Is it a surprise? For the person you're meeting?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Sort of." Alessandra wouldn't be expecting him. He couldn't be sure whether she even knew he existed.
"Then you might want to reconsider your clothes."
He looked down at himself briefly. "What's wrong with them?"
"You don't look anything like a genuine cowboy. You'll stand out for sure when surrounded by real Texas good 'ol boys."
"How does a real cowboy dress?" he asked wryly. They'd only just met and she was critiquing his attire?
"Mostly T-shirts and jeans. But your jeans are so starched and clean, they've obviously never been worn before. And your boots..."
The continuous pinch of his toes made him cranky as he asked, "The boots?"
"They're dress boots. For Sunday church or maybe a fancy date night. Not for every day."
He stifled the growl that wanted to rise from his throat. She was dressed much like she'd described, her braid flipped over one shoulder of her T-shirt. Her boots were worn leather and caked with dirt and he didn't want to know what else.
"You should've asked the salesperson for help," she said. A small smirk played around the corners of her lips.
"I was in a hurry"
"To meet your cousin." She slanted a glance at him.
She was ether too nosy or too smart for her own good.
"Tell me more about this pageant of yours." He gave her a charming smile, one that usually worked to distract or disarm.
Before she could answer, her phone rang.
She sighed deeply but clicked the line open and held the phone to her ear.
"Where the heck are you?" came a belligerent male voice, loud in the quiet cab of the truck.
She must've accidentally opened the line on speakerphone.
Was this one of her cousins? A boyfriend?
She moved the phone away from her ear with a wince. Her focus moved to the phone's screen as she tapped rapidly, probably trying to silence it. "Hey, Todd."
"Where are you?'"
"I'm on my way to Austin. You already knew that."
"Then why is your truck sitting on the side of the road?"
She grimaced as she kept punching at the phone, but there must’ve been some error because she didn't raise it to her ear again, and it remained on speaker.
"McKenna!"
He didn't know her family dynamic, but the person on the other end of the line was pushy. Of course,
Pieter’d had his own doubts about her being on her own and broken down on the side of the road. Could he blame the guy for being a little protective?
"The engine finally fizzled," she said as she glanced out the passenger window. "But I caught a ride."
"With who?"
She shot a furtive look at him. "A friend."
"What friend? And why didn't you call me?"
She mumbled something beneath her breath. "I didn't call you, or Taylor, or Andy, because I already knew what you would say."
Great diversion. She'd completely ignored the question.
"What, to stop being stupid and just come home?"
Ouch. There was a difference between protective and outright rude.
McKenna's face had turned crimson, and Pieter found himself wanting to defend her.
Which was crazy, because he didn't have the time or inclination to get involved. It wasn't his problem. She wasn't his problem.
"Look," the voice came through the phone. "The rodeo queen thing was a great joke, but you're never going to win at a big rodeo like the one down in Austin. Why don't you just tell me where you are and I'll come get you?"
Pearly white teeth emerged as she worried her bottom lip. Her blush had faded some. Her brows were furrowed, and she looked like she was considering this idiot's words.
"Why don't you tell him to get lost?" Pieter whispered.
"Who was that?" Todd's voice boomed over the speaker.
McKenna shot Pieter a glance. He couldn't tell if it was annoyed or grateful. "I told you, I got a ride."
Before her cousin could demand to know more, she rushed on. "I'm going to Austin, like I planned—"
"You're never going to win—"
"I'll be back in a week." She hung up the phone.
An uncomfortable silence fell.
"You might want to power it off," Pieter offered helpfully. "Your family isn't very supportive, are they?"
McKenna stifled a bitter laugh.
Unsupportive was an understatement.
"My aunt and uncle are my guardians," she said slowly, not sure how much she really wanted to tell Pieter—a virtual stranger—about her family. On the other hand, everyone around town knew her story, so why not him? It wouldn't change anything.
"They're…fine with me going down to Austin." It was a bit of a stretch. The truth was, they really didn't care as long as she was out of their way. "It's my cousins—three of them, all older—who can be controlling."
Controlling was a kind way to put it. They'd bullied her throughout her childhood and teens. Now that she was older, they mostly threatened and teased her.
She desperately wanted to move out of the house, but working a minimum wage job meant she couldn't afford it.
"How'd you end up with your aunt and uncle?" Pieter asked.
She glanced out the window, her hand creeping up to touch her locket beneath her shirt.
"My mom died—I can't even remember her, I was so little. For a while it was just me and my dad. Then he…" The words stuck in her throat, a hard knob of emotion even after almost a decade.
Even if everyone in town knew—or thought they knew—what had happened, she hated talking about it. Her father had been wrongly accused of committing fraud through his financial services business. He'd been jailed and been assigned a court-appointed attorney, who'd botched the case.
Her father hadn't lasted three months in prison.
"He died when I was ten," she said, because she couldn't tell the rest. "My aunt and uncle took me in."
And she'd been thankful, but sometimes it was hard. Sometimes she felt like excess baggage, like they'd be just as happy without her there.
"Sounds like it was hard on you. How old are you, anyway?"
Her chin went up at the slight challenge in his question. "Old enough."
His raised eyebrows told her he wasn't going to let it go. "Seventeen?"
"Nineteen," she shot back. Old enough to be on her own, if she could just afford it…
"Nineteen," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head a little.
"Why does it matter?" she asked. "How old are you? Thirty?" She threw out the number because she wanted to irritate him right back, but she pegged him closer to twenty-five.
He smirked a little. "Older than you. Wiser, too. Do I need to be worried about these cousins coming after me with a shotgun?"
"No. Probably not," she amended. Even though Todd had called to berate her, she doubted he or his brothers could be bothered to drive all the way to Austin.
"You don't sound very sure."
She couldn't tell whether he was teasing her or not. She didn't want to talk about her cousins any more. They loved to tell her that her looks were the only thing special about her and that she'd wind up some man's housewife, barefoot and pregnant because she'd never make anything of herself.
Kylie had been the only person in her life who'd told her anything different. Kylie believed McKenna could be criminal defense attorney, something she'd dreamed about since her father's botched trial. She never wanted another family to experience what she had.
Pieter slanted a glance her direction. "So your cousins entered you into the competition but now they don't think you can win?"
"They entered me as a joke," she reminded him. "I'm not exactly a fashion icon or anything. Horsemanship is my strongest suit."
Her cousins had hooted and howled from the stands when she'd walked onto the makeshift runway for the fashion portion of the contest back home. She'd visited the attic and found her old gun used for bedazzling clothing from elementary school and gone to town on a boot-length denim skirt she'd found at the nearest Goodwill two years ago. She'd found a sparkly pattern surfing the web at the public library.
She'd also spent hours poring over videos that showed different riding patterns for the horsemanship part of the competition. Not to mention the questions for the interview with the judges.
She wasn't poised. Wasn't confident. Had no idea what she was walking into.
The cash winnings from the small-town rodeo was a windfall she'd never had before, and she'd plugged the money into fancy duds for the fashion part of the Austin competition.
She was betting everything on this. College tuition was expensive, especially if she wanted to make it all the way to law school.
"There's a big difference in our small-town rodeo and what you'll see in Austin. Austin is a regional rodeo that pulls more riders"—and queen contestants—"and the competition will be much tougher."
Another one of those slanted glances. "You're pretty enough to win. What are you so afraid of?"
Her face went hot at his compliment.
Suddenly, there was a loud pop, and the steering wheel jerked to the right.
Blowout!
She grabbed the door, her seatbelt locking tight against her chest as the truck bucked, fighting the trailer's weight from behind and the loss of momentum.
Pieter gritted his teeth as he worked to guide the truck toward the shoulder.
Finally, they rolled to a stop. A semi zoomed past, stirring a cloud of gravel dust that swirled past the truck.
She panted, trying to control the racing of her heart.
"Are you all right?" Pieter asked. His face was white.
"Yeah. I've got to check on Maximus."
She could only pray her horse wasn't hurt.
What would she do if she got to the rodeo and didn't have a horse for the contest?
3
Maximus was unhurt but agitated as McKenna slipped through the trailer beside him. He neighed and bobbed his head, showing his displeasure at the sudden and shaky stop.
"Easy, boy," she said, rubbing one hand against his neck to settle him.
She checked both front legs, but he didn't appear to have lost his balance or kicked any part of the trailer, which might've injured him.
She sighed, tears threatening because of her relief.
"All right," she told the horse. "I'm going to go
see how quick we can get back on the road."
Outside the truck, Pieter stared at the blown front tire. It was completely shredded. They weren't driving anywhere on it.
"Know how to change a tire?" she asked, already guessing the answer.
"I know how to ring for a tow," he said, still staring at the tire.
She sighed. "Not necessary. I can do it. Let me unload Maximus, again"—she muttered under her breath—"and I'll change the tire."
"Isn't it dangerous to do that right off the side of the interstate?"
As if to underscore his words, a sports car blared its horn as it passed them, going well over the posted speed limit.
She glanced at her watch. "I'm supposed to check in for my interview with the competition judges in five hours. If we wait for someone else to do it and then have any other delays, I'll miss it completely."
And she couldn't miss her one shot.
"Are you certain?"
She nodded. She couldn't quit now.
She unloaded Maximus, who wasn't happy about the noise coming from the cars passing on the interstate. This particular field that they'd stopped near wasn't fenced, and there were no nearby trees, so there was nowhere to tie him off.
"You're going to have to hold his lead," she told Pieter, who'd stood back to let her work.
Pieter approached her at the horse's head, well back from the interstate.
"I'm not, ah..."
"You don't like horses?" she asked.
"I'd prefer to ride a bicycle," he said. "I'm an avid cyclist."
It figured.
"Well, for right now, you're going to be a real cowboy."
She gave a quick introduction to Maximus, letting the horse get his scent. "Just act confident." Pieter shouldn't have any trouble with that, not with the cocky smiles he'd been delivering. "He'll be able to smell if you're frightened."
And the last thing she needed was for her horse to bolt along this stretch of interstate.
Pieter grudgingly took the lead rope.
She glanced over her shoulder as she trudged toward the truck to see man and horse sizing each other up. "Don't stare straight at him!" she called back.
Cowboy Fairytales Omnibus Page 20
