Her Lucky Cowboy

Dedication

Sometimes all you need is one person to see you for who you really are to know you’re loved.

Contents

Prologue

Bowden Ranch, Montana

Eleven years ago

D
ane was flying.

One moment he was riding his horse across the far reaches of his family’s land, the next his horse reared up and kicked his massive hooves in the air, spooked by some unseen threat. Dane let loose the reins and fell sideways, hoping the horse didn’t trample him. Dane’s left foot hit the ground first, his ankle twisting painfully as his body slammed into the packed dirt and weeds. His shoulder hit next, breaking most of his upper body’s fall, but his head smashed into a jagged rock. Pain exploded through his head.

Hombre galloped away. Alone now, Dane rolled and lay flat on his back, staring up at the canopy of tree branches overhead. The sound of the rushing river next to him added to the thrashing heartbeat in his ears. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, hoping that cleared his spotty double vision. His left hand came away wet and sticky with blood from the gash swelling on his head.

He closed his eyes tight, his hands falling limp on his stomach. When he opened them moments later, he stared into a pair of dazzling blue eyes. The young girl’s dark hair hung down, covering most of her pale face as she stared at him. The most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay?”

Such a soft, sweet voice. Where had she come from? No one lived out here. He liked the peace and quiet. The solitude.

“I must be dead. You’re an angel.”

Those ethereal eyes went wide with surprise. “Trust me, I’m no angel.” She filled those soft words with as much shock and disbelief as showed on her pretty face.

Calling her a liar probably wouldn’t make her like him.

She crouched, opened her hand, and set a long blue feather on his chest before touching her fingers to his aching head. The sting made him hiss in pain. Definitely not dead. Which meant she was real. Despite his prone body and inability to think clearly, one thing came through loud and clear. He wanted to know this girl.

“I need to stop this bleeding.”

He must have torn his T-shirt when he hit the ground. She ripped a piece free, walked to the edge of the river, and dipped it in the icy water. His vision blurred. He closed his eyes and moaned when she pressed the cold cloth to his head.

“There now. You’ll be okay.”

At fifteen, the last thing he wanted to do was ask for help, but his head swam and his ankle throbbed in time to his heart and the headache pounding in his head. No way he’d get home on his own. “My ankle hurts. Please, you have to get my dad. Find one of my brothers.”

Her soft hand settled on his chest over his heart. She snatched it back, like touching him burned her. He missed the sweet contact.

She reached for his foot and carefully pulled off his boot. He tried to bite back the groan, but it burst from his tight lips when the pain shot up his leg. Not cool to look like a wuss in front of a pretty girl, but with his head busted open, he was in bad shape.

She ripped his shirt again and used the long strip to bind his ankle. It actually felt better.

She sat beside him, her hands clenched in her lap. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t understand her distress. He tried to sit up and comfort her, but he fell back to the ground, his eyes closing as blackness swamped his dizzy mind.

A hand settled on his shoulder and shook him. He groggily moaned and tried to open his eyes. The bright sun blinded him until his father leaned over and blocked the light as he stared down at Dane.

“Dad?”

“Are you okay, son? Is anything broken?”

“My head hurts. Ankle, too, but nothing is broken but my pride. I fell off my damn horse.”

“Okay, now. I’ll get you home. Can you get up?”

“I think so.” Dane pressed his hands down at his sides and rose to sitting. The wet piece of fabric fell from his head and landed on his bare belly, along with the blue feather that fluttered into his lap. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“The girl.”

“Dane, no one is here.”

“She helped me. She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“There’s no one for miles.”

“How did you find me?”

“Your horse came home without you. I know you like to ride along the river, so I followed your trail.” His dad cocked his head, his eyes taking on a thoughtful gleam. “I did think I heard you whistle for me.”

“I passed out.”

“Must have been the wind in the trees.”

Dane didn’t think so. He pinched the end of the feather between his thumb and index finger and stared at it. He scanned the riverbank and out toward the hills. He didn’t see her anywhere. He didn’t understand the way his chest went tight and the sadness that overtook him. Nothing but his regret that he didn’t get to thank her or say goodbye. He never got her name.

His dad held out his hand. Dane took it. His father pulled him up, and Dane stood on his good leg. He tested out his twisted ankle. The slight pressure sent a bolt of pain up his leg.

“How’s your vision?”

“Better.”

“You did a good job using your shirt to bind that ankle and staunch the bleeding on your head.”

“I didn’t. She did.”

His father eyed him, shaking his head side to side. “Dane—”

“I’m telling you, Dad, there was a girl. She helped me.”

“Okay, son. I believe you, but I didn’t see anyone out here with you. I don’t know where she could have gone. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Which was the reason Dane liked it out here so much. Still, how did she get out here, and where did she go?

He lifted himself up into the saddle and grabbed the reins on the horse his father brought back for him to ride. He kept his eyes trained, searching the entire area the whole way back home, but he saw nothing, no one.

Dane went back to the spot beside the river more than a dozen times, looking for his dark-haired, blue-eyed angel. He never found her, but he’d never forget her either.

Chapter 1

Las Vegas, Nevada

Pro Bull Riders World Championships

B
ell loved everything about her first rodeo. The cowboys in their Wranglers and chaps. The beautiful horses. The excitement that built with every second of the ride. The lights in the arena and the roar of the crowd as they cheered for each competitor. She’d never seen such a spectacle.

She thought the same thing when her plane flew over the Las Vegas strip the other day.

Her half sister, Katherine, grabbed her arm when another bull burst out of the chute. The crowd’s cheers turned to an ominous “Oh” as the rider flew off the massive animal and landed on unsteady legs, making a run for the fences when the bull turned and rushed his way. Katherine’s husband, Tony, waved his arms along with the other rodeo clowns to distract the beast from going after the retreating bull rider.

“He’s so sexy,” her sister said about Tony, finally letting go the death grip she had on Bell’s arm.

Bell smiled at her vibrant sister, wondering how the hell they got here. Bell had tried to get out of this trip to Las Vegas and, of all things, the Pro Bull Riders World Finals. She might be from Montana, but she’d never been a ranch girl.

Two years ago, Katherine moved to Montana and Tony’s ranch. She visited her grandmother’s house—Bell’s purgatory—and discovered the family secret—a half sister from an affair her father had years ago. The look on Katherine’s face changed from shock to dawning understanding about all those angry snippets of hushed-up conversations between their father and her mother. For Katherine, it finally all made sense. Angry about being kept in the dark, she’d apparently contacted their father in California, demanding answers. Only one was given. Bell might be Katherine’s half sister, but she was not family. Flabbergasted by their father’s response, Katherine went against their father’s dictates and continued to contact Bell.

While Katherine had known nothing of Bell, their grandmother had rejoiced in sharing all the details of Katherine’s blessed life, torturing Bell with the fact she was nothing more than an unwanted burden. Katherine had been the chosen one. Bell, the whisper behind one’s hand. The skeleton locked in the family closet. Never to be seen again.

Somehow Bell ended up here, sitting beside the woman who had the life Bell had once dreamed about. Katherine had grown up in a beautiful home surrounded by love from both her parents. She’d been the golden, spoiled child.

Bell’s life had been anything but charmed. Her whole family hated her, including the grandmother who’d raised her. A religious zealot, she’d told Bell every day that she was nothing but a sin, a spawn of evil, something to be hidden away from civilized, God-fearing people. Even her own parents had recognized the evil in her and cast her out. She should be grateful her grandmother had taken pity on her and raised her, trying every day through prayer to convince God to save her from her wicked ways.

She’d lived in hell under her grandmother’s rigid dictates, enduring her sharp, bitter tongue. Because once she’d known kindness.

Before her grandfather died, he’d taken a keen interest in educating her and sparking her interest in gardening and raising chickens. She’d never forget the day he brought her outside to the new coop and asked her to hold out her hands and close her eyes. She cupped them in front of her, closed her eyes, and thrilled at the anticipation rising inside her. He set something fuzzy in her hands. When she opened them, she squealed with delight at the bright yellow chick he’d given her and the ten others flitting about her feet.

She remembered his kind smile and the playful way he’d tug her hair when she did something well. She wished she remembered him better. For him, she continued to take care of her grandmother. One good deed deserved another, though some kindnesses were harder to repay than others. And her grandmother made it extremely difficult to this day.

Why the hell did Bell agree to come here? She and Katherine had nothing in common. Polar opposites, Katherine’s optimism clashed with Bell’s realistic outlook on life. Their awkward conversations and interaction proved the divide between them might never be bridged. Still, Katherine plugged on, trying and trying to connect with Bell, despite Bell’s reluctance to open up. No one in the family ever wanted her. She didn’t understand why Katherine cared, so she kept things polite but distant. Until Katherine begged her to take this trip with her and Tony. Bell gave in to that nagging voice in her heart, telling her to stop pushing Katherine away, let her in, and try to forge a relationship with her one and only sister.

So she’d flown in with Katherine and met Tony at the hotel after he drove his bulls in for the competition. She planned to make the most out of her short vacation and try to get to know Katherine better.

The crowd cheered again, and Bell silently admitted she had another secret reason for coming. A chance to see
him
again.

“Our last rider of the night,” the announcer began. “A man who needs no introduction. Dane Bowden!”

The crowd went wild, rising to their feet, fists pumping in the air, cheering, “Great Dane. Great Dane. Great Dane.”

Bell sat on the edge of her seat, heart in her throat, eyes locked on the man she hadn’t seen since that day his horse threw him by the river. He climbed up onto the gates of the chute, pulled off his black Stetson, and gave a single wave to the crowd, flashing that devilish grin she remembered from her childhood. Everything in her went still, the crowd and noise fell away, and all she could see was the man she could never forget.

Geared up in
his safety vest, chaps, spurs, and signature black Stetson, Dane climbed over the rails and into the bucking chute to take his position on the beast’s black back. Twelve hundred pounds of pent-up, raging bull beneath him, he slipped his hand beneath the flat braided cord, pulled the rope over his hand, secured his grip, and held on for dear life. Eight seconds to decide where he’d land between victory and death.

It sucked that he had a tear along the thumb in his favorite pair of deerskin gloves, but he tried not to let it throw him off his game. Someone had been messing with him, his gear, and his truck for the last two weeks, but nothing could stop Dane today. He’d always been able to put everything aside, focus, and reach for that thrill and the win. This was his last championship ride, and he meant to go out a winner. He’d promised his parents and brothers he’d come home, run the family ranch, give up his wandering ways, and settle down to a normal—boring—life.

Yeah, right after this ride.

He’d tame this black beast tonight, then deal with the one within when he settled back home in Montana. Tonight, he’d ride under the Las Vegas lights.

Dane nodded, the chute door opened, and the bull bucked and reared. Dane held tight, one arm in the air as the bull twisted and the crowd went wild. He sank his spurs into the bull’s side, held tight with his knees, and moved with Black Cloud. The bull kicked, reared, and spun around. Blake held tight for another round. Time to get off this ride, collect his winnings, and go out number one. The spot he’d been chasing these last years had always seemed one place out of his grasp. With three big brothers, first always seemed out of reach. He’d been second this whole year. Might as well be last. Tonight, he’d finish first. A champion.

The buzzer sounded eight seconds. Done. Victory. Dane smiled as the crowd cheered.

There are two great athletes in every ride. The two-legged one won this time.

Dane tried to dismount, but the bull spun at the last second and caught him in the side before his feet hit the ground. The rodeo clowns moved forward in his peripheral vision, but not in time. Black Cloud turned, rammed his head into Dane’s chest, and sent him flying again. The impact pushed the air and his mouth guard out of his mouth. He bit the side of his lip and tasted blood. Sideways in the air, his left foot touched the ground first, then his body slammed into the dirt. His head bounced with the impact, making his vision spark and blur, but not before he saw the bull’s body swing over the top of him in slow motion, his massive hooves coming down at Dane’s legs, snapping his left leg bones like twigs. The flesh tore along with his jeans. White-hot pain shot through every nerve like lightning. Dane’s heart jackhammered in his chest and ears. The bull rammed him again with his huge head, sliding Dane several feet along the dirt. The fierce pain shot through him, stealing his breath. His heart slammed into his ribs.

Shit. This can’t be it. I can’t go out like this.

So many things he wanted to do with his life. Instead of the past coming back to him, flashes of all he’d never do ran through his mind. He’d never run his own ranch. Never get married. Never have children. Never know the kind of love and happiness the rest of his family had found.

Damn if fate hadn’t swung the rope, lassoed his life, and yanked him from victory toward death.

Overwhelmed with pain, his body went numb. A collective gasp went up from the crowd, and the lights went out.

The minute Dane
shot out of the gate on the back of Black Cloud, Bell’s heart slammed into her ribs again and again. Her stomach tightened with anticipation and dread all mixed together. She prayed he won. She prayed he didn’t get hurt.

God, he looked magnificent. His big body swayed back and forth as the animal bucked and tried to toss him off. Dane held tight. She admired his strength and determination, the focus he showed in his intense gaze. Arm in the air for balance, his fist clenched in triumph at the sound of the buzzer. The huge smile that spread across his face said it all. He’d won.

She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled with him. The bull twisted and caught Dane off guard. She sucked in a gasp and her heart stopped. Dane’s big body flew through the air. The bull hit him hard, then crushed Dane’s leg under his sharp hooves. Blood spurted from the compound fracture. Her medical training kicked in. She didn’t hesitate; she jumped out of her seat and shimmied down the row past the other stunned spectators. Then she ran down the stairs, jumped the short wall, ran the few feet to the seven-foot fences, and climbed over them. She didn’t stop when the security guard yelled, or when the two rodeo clowns tried to grab her. She headed straight for the man bleeding out on the ground. She skidded to a stop on her knees beside him, pushed his chaps up over his thigh, and tore open his jeans to reveal the splintered tibia and fibula sticking out of his slashed skin. She hated to move his messed-up leg, but necessity and saving his life prompted action. She stuck her hand down his boot, grabbed his ankle with her hand to stabilize it, and pulled his boot off with the other so she could see the full extent of the damage. The bull continued to stomp and twist in her peripheral vision. She straightened Dane’s leg, panic rising to her throat when he grunted in pain, but she didn’t stop. She pulled back the torn skin, found the squirting artery, and pinched it closed with her finger and thumb.

“Look out!”

Bell glanced up just in time to catch the swing of the bull’s hindquarters up toward her head. She spread her knees, leaned back, and lay her shoulders to the ground between her feet. Despite her quick movements, she still caught a hoof to her forehead. Just a graze, but unfortunately, she let go of Dane’s artery. The bull’s hooves landed in the dirt inches from her arm. A horse and rider drew close, trying to distract the out-of-control animal. She pulled herself up and covered Dane’s body with hers, a hand over his face and head as the bull charged, head down. The horse and rider knocked the bull to the side, but not before she got slammed in the shoulder, rocking her and Dane back before the rodeo clowns drew the bull’s attention. Black Cloud ran off for the exit gates like nothing had happened.

Her head throbbed where she’d been hit, blood trickled down the side of her face, and her vision blurred and cleared a few times. The pain in her shoulder pulsed down her arm. She ignored it all and focused on her dying patient.

Covered in dirt and dust, she rose up, found the spurting artery again, pinched it off with her fingers, and checked Dane’s leg, waiting for the arena to clear so the paramedics could get to them.

Damn, he’d lost a lot of blood.

The way he’d been tossed around and slammed into the ground, she bet he had a concussion, possibly some bruised or broken ribs, maybe a spine injury.

“Dane, are you okay?” Tony sank down beside her on his knees.

“He’s out cold.”

“That was my bull he was riding. Shit.” Tony’s gaze met hers. “Bell, your head.”

“You need to back up and let the paramedics in,” she ordered, no time to talk or worry about herself. Dane needed them to save his life.

“How the hell did you get down here so fast?” Tony asked.

She didn’t know. She’d seen the injury, and the compulsion to get to Dane, to save him, had overridden every other thought, as well as her common sense.

That bull could have killed her.

A rush of fear washed over her, but she let it go and focused on Dane and keeping her fingers pinched onto his torn artery.

“We’ll take it from here,” a dark-haired paramedic said, dumping his gear in the dirt.

“I’m Dr. Bell. I’m an orthopedic surgeon out of Bozeman. I need a clamp to pinch off this artery.”

The medic handed over the instrument. She fixed it to the artery just above her fingers and let go, knowing time was of the essence. The knock to her head made her thinking slow, but she tried to keep her focus, relying on her ER training to get her through and think step by step.

“We need to stabilize this leg. Get a neck brace on him. Check his vitals. Run a line.”

The paramedics cut Dane’s shirtsleeve to his shoulder, revealing the blue feather tattoo on the inside of his forearm. She read the words below. “An angel watches over me.” She sucked in a startled breath.

“IV’s in, Doc. How’s the leg look?”

Bell refocused her attention on his mangled leg. “Scissors.” She held out her hand and accepted the instrument. She cut off Dane’s sock and slit the leg of his pants up to midthigh, spreading the bloody material wide to get a better look at his leg. She didn’t like the looks of his foot. She pinched the skin near his big toe. Man, the guy had some big feet. The skin turned white and took several seconds to turn pink again. Not enough circulation.