Rancher and Protector

by Pamela Britton

  Now why’d you go and say that?

  “Boyfriend?” She laughed. “Hah. Who has time for that? Between my job and my…”

  He waited for her to say the word nephew.

  “…crazy life,” she said instead, “I don’t have time for sleep, much less a boyfriend.”

  “Your life’s crazy?”

  But she wasn’t budging. He could see that. “It is,” she said, swinging open the door pointedly. “Anyway, apology accepted.”

  “Can we try again tomorrow?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You mean ride?”

  He nodded.

  She licked her lips. And suddenly he found himself thinking less about subterfuge and more about the shape of those lips.

  “Let me think about it,” she said.

  He didn’t move, even though it was obvious she wanted him to leave. But he couldn’t do that. If he couldn’t bring himself to rummage through her belongings, he needed to come up with some other way to get the information out of her.

  “Don’t chew it over too long,” he said, forcing himself to smile. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. From what I hear, things are going to get crazy on Monday.” He walked to the door, but didn’t leave. He turned to face her, effectively imprisoning her between his body and the wall.

  “I want to help you,” he said.

  “You do?”

  Man, she was a pretty little thing. He couldn’t keep from staring at her mouth. “Let me coach you some more.”

  She chewed the inside of her lip. She looked adorable when she did that. Like a kid trying to determine if she wanted vanilla ice cream or chocolate.

  “What time were you thinking?” she asked.

  “Maybe around ten or so?” he said, cursing inwardly. She was not to be trusted. “I’m supposed to do some things around the barn tomorrow. So after that?”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment. “All right. Tomorrow.”

  “See you then,” he said, because he knew if he didn’t leave right then, he might do something he would regret. And that wouldn’t be good. Logan had told him exactly how horrible this woman really was.

  SEE YOU THEN.

  Lord, her sister would be laughing her head off if she knew the direction of Amber’s thoughts.

  A cowboy.

  “Brother,” she murmured, dropping onto the bed.

  But she didn’t get much sleep that night. She told herself she could bug out on Colt, maybe go down and try to halter and work with Flash on her own. But that would be silly. She didn’t want to get hurt. She wanted to learn.

  The other option was asking Jarrod, but something about the guy’s attitude really rubbed her the wrong way. At least Colt seemed genuine.

  So she showed up in her jeans and a sweatshirt. While the day had dawned overcast and cold—typical January weather—the fog had burned off, leaving bright blue skies behind, although it was still a bit chilly. When she arrived at the stables, she was startled to see Flash already tied out front, and that Colt wasn’t alone.

  “Mac,” he called to the dog, which stood up when he saw her.

  “You have a dog?” she asked in shock.

  “I do.”

  “Hey, there,” she said, squatting.

  “Mac!”

  But the dog didn’t listen. As if he’d been waiting for just such an invitation, he charged.

  “Damn it, Mac!”

  But Amber didn’t mind. She held out her arms, thoroughly enchanted with the gray-black-and-brown animal. He had no tail. It’d been cropped at some point, but that didn’t stop his rear end from swinging back and forth.

  “What kind of dog is he?”

  “Australian shepherd,” Colt said. “And I’m about to deport him back to his homeland.” He stomped forward.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, staving him off with a hand. “I love dogs.”

  “You do?”

  “I do,” she exclaimed, plunging her hands into the shepherd’s thick fur and giving him a good scratch. Mac fairly moaned. “Such pretty eyes,” she cooed. They were blue. Blue like the water in Crater Lake. “But where have you been keeping him?”

  “In my room,” he said. “Gil told me that was okay as long as he didn’t cause trouble.”

  “What?” she said in mock surprise. “Mac, cause trouble? Nah.” She smiled at the animal.

  When she stood up, she found Colt staring at her, and she felt self-conscious all of a sudden. “I see you got Flash ready.”

  “Uh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind. I didn’t see any good reason to torture you by making you halter the animal. I want you to enjoy yourself today.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her relief so great she almost hugged him.

  “Come on, Mac.”

  “Where are you putting him?”

  “In one of the empty stalls. I don’t want him getting under your feet. Go on in and get some brushes,” Colt added. “I’ll be right back.”

  She did so, thinking In for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Don’t those hard bristles hurt?” she asked when he came back out.

  “No, not like that.” Colt took the brush from her hand. She felt the jolt of their fingers meeting like a static charge.

  “And horses actually like it,” he said.

  As he moved closer, Amber found herself wanting to edge away.

  “Use long strokes,” Colt instructed, his gaze hooking her own. “Start at his neck and work your way back. Sometimes it’s easier to use a currycomb first. That’ll knock the hair loose.”

  “And a currycomb looks like…what, exactly?”

  Colt bent and pulled something out of the bucket that caused her to say, “Ouch. Now that can’t feel good.” It looked like a lollipop, only the “pop” part was made of metal. And it had teeth. Sharp, pointed teeth.

  “You’d be surprised what feels good to a horse.”

  She eyed the animal. “Actually, given that I know absolutely nothing about them, I don’t think anything would surprise me. How do I use the currycomb?”

  “Move it in circular patterns.”

  She nodded. “Wax on. Wax off.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Karate Kid. Haven’t you ever seen that movie?”

  Colt stared down at her as if he’d never heard of anything remotely related to karate—movies or otherwise—in his life, but that didn’t dissuade her.

  “Sensei tell you to wax on, wax off,” she said.

  But all Colt did was stare. The man was about as warm and as friendly as Mount Everest.

  “Once you’re done,” he said, “follow up with the brush. I’m going to go get the tack.”

  She gave the brush a hard flick, and was immediately rewarded by a cloud of dust and dander. She coughed, waving a hand in front of her face, although the smell of horse wasn’t all that unpleasant. And the animal seemed to have calmed down. His head hung low, his brown eyes half-closed, as if he was falling asleep at the hitching post. Hmm. Maybe this wouldn’t be as scary as she thought.

  “You done?”

  “No,” Amber said in exasperation. “And please don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  Colt dropped the saddle and hung the bridle on the end of the post Flash was tied to. “Here,” he said, “I’ll do the other side.”

  And that was how Amber found herself quietly grooming a horse—because Mr. Colt Sheridan appeared to be the tall, dark and silent type. But that was okay. It gave her time to think.

  Dee would be arriving soon, although no one could make the connection. Her nephew’s birth certificate said Rudolph, a result of Sharron’s twisted sense of humor, when he’d been born on Christmas Day. But everybody, including his father, called him Rudy, and that suited Amber just fine. Logan had been begging to see him again, and Amber just couldn’t do that to her nephew. The last time they’d been to visit it had been so horrible. Dee had gone into meltdown. Logan had grown irate. The supervising officer had had to intervene…?. Horrible. All the proof she needed that h
er brother-in-law hadn’t changed, not one whit.

  “So what made you want to work with special needs children?”

  She again waved a hand in front of her face as dust tickled her nose. “It’s a long story.”

  Colt continued grooming Flash, although she could swear he was trying to denude the beast. Dander and hair were flying. Thank goodness she wasn’t allergic to horses.

  “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he said, his eyes meeting hers for a moment.

  “No, really,” she said.

  “You like kids, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” she answered quickly.

  “Do you want any of your own?”

  He hadn’t stopped brushing, but she could feel him glancing at her. Every time he did, it was like warm flashes of sunlight touched her—which, honestly, was a strange thing to think.

  “Someday,” she said. “How about you? What made you want to work for Camp Cowboy?”

  “I didn’t.”

  That made her stop brushing for a second. “Excuse me?”

  “I heard about this place from a friend. He told me I should apply. So I did.”

  She didn’t know why that stunned her, but it did. She’d just assumed everyone who worked at Camp Cowboy had done so out of a need to serve. To make the world a better place. To reach out and maybe help a child.

  Her life’s mission, thanks to Dee.

  “So if your friend hadn’t suggested you apply, you’d have…what?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what I would have done for cash. Found something else.”

  “But you wanted to work with special needs kids, didn’t you?”

  She could tell he didn’t want to answer her question because his eyes flicked over Flash as he groomed, then to her, then back again. “My first love is rodeo,” he admitted.

  Of course. She should have known.

  Just like her sister’s husband.

  Amber was certain the rodeo lifestyle had corrupted Logan to the point of no return. Cowboys boozed it up and chased women. That’s what her sister said, and Amber believed it. “I know someone who used to do that.”

  “Yeah?” Colt asked.

  But she wasn’t ready to answer questions about Dee’s father, even though she was curious if the two knew each other. The man was better off gone from their lives, something that was hard to explain to strangers.

  “Please tell me you at least like kids?” she replied, trying to change the subject.

  He paused. “Kids and I don’t get along.”

  Her body turned into a pillar of salt—or so it felt. “What the heck are you doing here then?”

  He looked her right in the eye. She watched as he tried to find the words. In the end he simply shrugged and said, “Searching for something.”

  Chapter Four

  Now why the heck had he gone and said that? he wondered, flicking the brush over Flash’s back harder than necessary. Flash pinned his ears, and Cold patted his rump in apology.

  “Searching for what?” she asked, clearly curious.

  “I don’t know,” he hedged, then shrugged. “But the rodeo life, it’s getting hard.”

  That’s why he had to do this. Time was running out—and she was his ticket to the big leagues.

  “So quit,” she suggested.

  “No,” he said. “Not yet.”

  Because he could still do this thing. He just needed to figure out a way to discover where Rudy was without feeling like a complete jerk in the process.

  You are a jerk.

  Amber was shaking her head, and he could tell she didn’t like his answer. Not only that, but she almost appeared disappointed.

  “Okay,” she said brightly—too brightly. “What’s next?”

  He wondered if he should push the issue. Ask her about the guy she knew on the rodeo circuit. Logan. It had to be Logan. It was the perfect way to get her to talk. That’s what he should do. Instead, he found himself gesturing with his chin. “Saddle first, then bridle.”

  “And how do you do that?”

  “Here.” He scooped up the saddle blanket. “This goes on first.” He made sure it was placed squarely. “Then the saddle,” he said, swinging it onto the horse’s back.

  “How come I have this feeling it’s a lot harder than it looks?”

  He pulled the saddle off and demonstrated again. But the whole time he worked with her, he found himself wondering if Logan might be wrong about her. Was that possible? Was there more to the story than met the eye? And why the hell did Colt keep thinking about his ranch all of a sudden? He hadn’t been back to Texas in years, not since he was seventeen…?.

  Don’t go down that road again, buddy.

  “Is that thing going in there?” she asked.

  They’d reached the part where it was time to bridle the horse. Colt realized it was the bit she was staring at.

  “It is,” he said, telling himself to smile. Except he couldn’t bring himself to do much more than say, “Don’t worry. Doesn’t hurt. He knows the deal. Watch.” He showed her how Flash had been taught to take the bit.

  Could Logan be wrong? Or worse, lying?

  Damn it. Colt wished he could just ask.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked when the metal clunked against the gelding’s teeth.

  “Only if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he said. Just focus on what you’re here to do. “But you will,” he quickly reassured her. “Here. I’ll show you.” Because that’s what he’d been hired to do—help out with the horses.

  “Can I try?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He slipped the bridle off again and handed it to her.

  Just tough it out.

  When the camp closed in eight weeks, it was back to rodeo—with his pockets full and a new horse to ride.

  “Hold it from the top,” he instructed when she looked at the bridle, baffled. She moved the bit close to Flash’s mouth, but when the gelding jerked his head back, she jumped as if he’d tried to bite her.

  “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t like horses,” Colt said.

  “I don’t.”

  He thought he misheard her. “Excuse me?”

  “They intimidate the hell out of me.”

  “Then what the heck are you doing here?” he found himself asking.

  She looked at the animal, then at the stable where he’d come from. “This is the wave of the future,” she said. “Or at least that’s what research shows. There have been studies recently, really amazing studies, that prove an animal can connect with special needs children in a way that defies explanation. I have to do this.”

  “Why?”

  She flicked her chin up. “Because.”

  Was it because of her nephew? Logan had admitted his son wasn’t quite “normal,” but said he just had a learning disability. Was that what drove Amber’s passion?

  “If you don’t want to be afraid of horses, you need to realize something.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, the bridle in her hand forgotten.

  “They’re like dogs.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Like a gigantic Mac,” Colt amended. “Really. Most horses are just as smart as Mac in there—sometimes smarter.”

  As if his dog had been listening, Amber heard him yelp.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He just wants to be out with us.”

  “That’d be okay with me.”

  “No,” Colt said. “You need to focus on what I’m saying.”

  “I am paying attention,” she said, eyeing the horse. “What you just told me was not to worry. That if a horse wants to kill me, it’s smart enough to know the best way to accomplish that goal.”

  Against his better judgment, he smiled, but only for a moment. “Horses don’t want to kill humans. I’ve seen half a dozen jump over a rider unfortunate enough to land in front of them.”

  She tipped her head sideways, her ringlets hanging over her shoulder like
a bunch of grapes. “Yes, but how did that rider get in front of those horses in the first place?”

  “At rodeos cowboys fall off all the time. As a matter of fact, it’s what I do for a living—jump off horses.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a tie-down roper.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Someone who jumps off a running horse and wrestles steers to the ground.”

  “And you do that why?”

  It’s a living.

  They were the first words to come to mind, even though he knew well and good there were easier ways to do that. Hell, he worked ranches during the off season. He owned a ranch. But full-time ranching? Nah. That’d been his dad’s deal. And his mom’s. And his baby sister’s—

  Colt snatched the bridle from Amber. “Sorry,” he said when she looked up at him in surprise. “Let’s just get you mounted. That way you can see for yourself there’s nothing to fear.”

  And he could get out of here.

  “Find yourself a helmet,” he snapped.

  “Helmet? You think I might fall off?”

  “No,” he said. “It’s a safety precaution. I was told everyone here rides with a helmet.”

  He wasn’t cut out for this, he decided. Dealing with her while trying to keep quiet about why he was actually at Camp Cowboy. And then there was this…this whatever it was that reminded him of his family and the life he used to live.

  “Do you know where the helmets are?” she asked.

  “Never mind,” he said. “I’ll go get one.”

  He thrust the reins at her. But as he walked into the barn, blinking in the sudden dimness, he wondered if maybe it wouldn’t have to be so difficult. And maybe he wouldn’t have to lie to her. Maybe he could discover some other way to unearth her nephew’s location.

  Because even though he wanted to help his buddy, he wasn’t at all convinced he had what it took to do. She might be a deceitful you-know-what, but he wasn’t. And that might present a problem.

  HE’D GONE ALL QUIET on her. Since they’d walked to the arena together, helmet in hand, he’d said hardly two words to her.

  “Climb on board,” he said.

  Okay, make that four. “Sure,” she said. “If you tell me how.”

  He looked at her as if butterflies were spitting out of her mouth. “Haven’t you ever seen someone getting on a horse before?”