Rodeo Sweetheart (11 page)

E
than clicked his tongue at Wildfire, urging him forward from the stall. The horse grudgingly followed, hay dangling from his thick lips. Regardless of the gelding’s voracious appetite, it was time for the Saturday-morning ride, and Sam already had her hands full tacking up the remaining horses in the paddock. Cole had stumbled into the arena minutes earlier with a stuffy nose and fever, so Sam immediately sent him away with strict instructions to take medicine, chug a glass of water and drift back to sleep. It looked like the trail ride was up to Ethan and Sam to handle now. Hopefully the stable hand would be better by tomorrow night to help with the bonfire cookout Sam had been looking forward to for days.

He blinked against the sun as he stepped out of the barn, Wildfire close behind. Ethan’s mom was lined up outside with the other guests, along with the honeymoon couple he’d seen at the lodge the other night. Unfortunately, so were Mike and Davy. The father was talking to Angie Jenson—as usual, it seemed—and Davy was attempting to scale the adjacent pad
dock fence where the stallions grazed, despite his father’s repeated protests. Ethan groaned. Figured that the one day they were shorthanded, the terrible twosome decided to show up.

He looped Wildfire’s lead rope around the fence post, then his hands stilled over the frayed material. When had he started considering himself part of the staff? He shook his head. Those thoughts would only get him in trouble. Ethan might be participating in chores—and there was no arguing he’d learned a lot over the past week or so—but Sam made it clear that was as far as it went. Would he ever be able to impress her?

And would it ever stop mattering so much whether or not he did?

Across the rail, Sam looked up from saddling Piper and offered a short nod in Ethan’s direction. He smiled in return, but she kept her eyes on the task in front of her. Hopefully she was just busy and not holding a grudge against his attempts last night at talking her out of the rodeo. Time would tell if she was mad, that much was certain—with Sam, her feelings were right there on her shirtsleeve along with the tiny red checked pattern.

He should have known she wouldn’t have gone for dropping out. But in that one moment in time, he had really thought she might consider it. He just couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of Sam risking her life, no matter how worthy the cause.

Ethan secured Wildfire’s rope with a quick yank. He wondered what would happen if he bought the Stephenses’ coveted stallion for Sam? Called Kate’s father, swore him to secrecy, handed over the money—even if it did have to come from his savings—and plopped the horse right there in the paddock, along with the other stallions left over from the Jensons’ breeding farm days? She’d never know who did it.

He risked a glance at Sam from the corner of his eye. Yeah, right. Not only would Sam know immediately who’d bought the horse, she’d make Ethan take it back. The only thing firmer than her no-charity rule would be Jeffrey’s tone as he threatened Ethan’s job—and his place in the family. Talk about the extreme other end of an order. Ethan was supposed to be talking Sam out of entering the rodeo—not offering to make the path easier.
God, a little advice would be greatly appreciated.
Ever since his desperate prayer last night at seeing Sam fall, talking to God had suddenly become easy for the first time in years. Ethan wasn’t sure what had changed, but for now, he was rolling with it. It felt good being back on speaking terms.

“Wildfire’s ready to be tacked up.” Ethan patted the gelding’s neck as he ducked underneath to edge closer to Sam. “What can I do next?” At least helping out around the ranch made the guilt that seemed to keep permanent residence in his throat easier to swallow.

Sam straightened from tugging at the saddle’s girth strap and brushed a damp strand of hair off her forehead. “If you could saddle Wildfire, I’ll bring Diego from the barn. Then we should be ready to ride.”

“No problem.” Ethan slid the blanket on top of Wildfire’s back as Sam hurried toward the stables. He couldn’t keep from watching her leave, despite his attempts to focus on the buckles in his hand. Did Sam have any idea how beautiful she was? The girls from his regular group of friends in New York would clamor for their compacts and hairbrushes the second they began to perspire—yet Sam would work up a flat-out sweat in this Texas heat and do nothing other than mop her brow with her shirtsleeve and keep working. That kind of confidence was so much more attractive than the superficial beauty of his old crowd.

Ethan frowned as he straightened the blanket and reached for Wildfire’s saddle. Old crowd, as in past tense? This working vacation was messing up his mindset in more ways than one. In a matter of days, he had to go back to New York with his family—to his old life, even if only for a short time while he prepared for his new one. He was getting far too attached to Sam—and to the slower pace of Texas, for that matter. Even the southern accents were growing on him. What would it be like to relocate somewhere with a drawl? Somewhere with grass as far as the eye could see, instead of skyscrapers?

A sudden high-pitched scream split the air, followed by a distressed whinny. Ethan spun around. The trouble-making boy, Davy, had managed to slip inside the stallions’ fence and now was trapped between two skittish horses. The terror on the kid’s face sprung Ethan into action. He dropped the saddle and bolted toward the paddock.

“Davy!” Mike yelled. His face turned white and he rushed the fence, Angie right behind him.

“Grab him, Mike!”

Sam emerged from the barn, her confused expression a blur as Ethan sped past her. “Come on!”

She immediately sprinted behind him, her booted footsteps thudding in Ethan’s wake. Mike had climbed inside the paddock but still couldn’t reach his son. One of the stallions reared, clipping Mike’s shoulder with his hooves. He crumpled to the ground.

Sam and Ethan reached the fence at the same time. She reached beneath the rails for Mike and grabbed his arms, pulling him away from the danger and into the grass beside the paddock. Angie stooped to help, and Ethan vaulted over the top rail into the pen.

One of the stallions snorted in Ethan’s direction and pawed
the ground. “Davy, very slowly, come around the horse to my side.” He kept his voice even and tried to smile. No doubt the horses were sensing Davy’s fear and reacting accordingly. It wouldn’t help adding his own anxiety into the mix. Was Mike okay? Hopefully the throng of horses had blocked Davy’s view of seeing his dad fall.

Davy, eyes wide and teary, took a half step toward Ethan, but was still boxed in between the disgruntled horses. Ethan nodded. “You’re doing good. Keep going.”

Then suddenly the brown stallion blocking Davy’s path reared up on his hind legs. Ethan snatched Davy’s shirt collar and hauled the kid toward the fence before the horse could land. The force slammed them both against the paddock. Better that than falling under the anxious animal’s hooves.

Ethan helped Davy scramble back over the rails before quickly doing the same. The stallions tossed their heads, ears pinned flat, but seemed relieved to have the sudden intruders gone from their territory.

Davy flew to his father’s side. Mike sat up slowly and groaned. “Daddy, are you okay?”

“Yes, are you?” Mike touched his son’s head as if checking for injuries, then pulled him into a tight hug.

“That was a close one.” Sam stood from her kneeling position and shoved her hair back from her face with both hands. Relief peppered her expression.

Angie brushed her hands on her jeans and turned an admiring gaze on Ethan. “Well done. The horses really responded to you.”

“That’s funny. They looked terrified to me.” Ethan released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. That
had
been close—too close.

“Red, the bigger of the horses in there, would have had no
problem dancing all over you and Davy if he was scared enough to do so.” Angie tucked her hair behind her ears. “You calmed him down. Very impressive.”

Ethan cleared his throat. “If I had known Red was such a beast I might not have been so effective.” He didn’t deserve the attention, he’d just happened to be closest to the situation at the time. It wasn’t like he’d jumped from a burning building. He was all too aware of his exceeding lack of superpowers—Jeffrey and Daniel served as a constant reminder of that.

“I just hope a certain young man has learned his lesson.” Mike clapped Davy’s shoulder as they both slowly stood to their feet. “Isn’t that right?”

Davy nodded his agreement and Ethan could barely contain his snort. Hopefully the boy’s father would learn a similar lesson in paying attention. If Mike had kept his son corralled instead of flirting with Angie, this wouldn’t have happened.

Although Angie didn’t seem to mind the attention. She ushered the twosome toward the main house. “We better get some ice on your shoulder, Mike.”

“I guess we can get on with the morning ride, then.” Sam let out her breath. Her gaze locked with Ethan and he couldn’t help smiling at the admiration lingering in her eyes. Maybe he’d finally impressed her after all.

There just might be more cowboy in Ethan than she originally thought. Sam ambled along on Diego, the warm sun lulling her thoughts far away from the trail ride at hand—and straight toward Ethan riding just a few paces away. She couldn’t help being impressed at his rescue of Davy. Ethan hadn’t thought twice before rushing into the stallions’ pen to save the boy. That showed courage above fear—definite cowboy traits. He’d also had the instinct to
stay relaxed and try to calm the horses without further panicking them or Davy. Then, on top of all that, he tried to disregard the praise he’d earned, had even looked a little embarrassed by it. That proved he hadn’t done it all for show, but to truly help.

Apparently starched shirts and gold-tipped pens didn’t hide character as much as Sam first thought.

She absently brushed a fly from Diego’s mane. Sam certainly didn’t know any city slickers who would have done what Ethan did back there. It was beginning to look as if she wouldn’t be able to use that unofficial label anymore.

She also couldn’t keep clinging to the anger that kept her up last night. Despite Ethan’s trying to talk her out of the rodeo, it was growing harder and harder to stay mad. He was just looking out for her. Annoying, maybe—but sweet. A far cry from the calloused greenhorn that showed up at the ranch just a few weeks ago. Who knew what soft layer Ethan would reveal next?

Sam urged Diego forward on the trail, his long tail flicking from side to side and tickling the back of her arms. It was actually easier being around Ethan when he played the sarcastic, teasing jerk like when he first arrived, insisting on using her full name and expecting special treatment. This mature, considerate—and masculine—version was far too attractive for Sam’s own good.

A few yards ahead, Ethan twisted around in the saddle and glanced back at her, as if reading her thoughts. Sam ducked her head but couldn’t keep her traitorous gaze from catching his own once again. He smiled and her stomach shivered, just like last year when she rode the Gravy Train at the fair and began to descend the highest hill.

Sam swallowed hard and looked away. She was falling, all right.

“It’s Saturday night. No hot date?” Angie grinned from the loveseat in the den as Sam attempted to climb the stairs to her room. Her mother was always trying to encourage her to have more of a social life.

Sam paused on the bottom step, muscles stiff with fatigue and too much exercise. She should have stretched more before riding Lucy last night—not that any amount of preparation could have softened that particular fall. Plus, the at-home exercises Cole had Sam doing left her abs permanently sore, and all the time she spent in the saddle today hadn’t helped. She forced a smile, hoping her mom wouldn’t notice her discomfort. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a hot date, Mom.” For some reason, the words brought Ethan to the forefront of her mind and Sam shook her head to dislodge them.

“You always did prefer horses over boys.” Angie smiled. “A fact that had your father elated. But I want you to be able to go out and enjoy life and not get so bogged down by the farm.” She sipped from her oversize mug. “Clara made a fresh pot of coffee before she left for the evening. It’s still hot if you want some.”

Sam started to say no. After all, it’d be a long day of chores and tourists, and she had only a few hours to sleep before meeting Cole and Lucy again. Reminiscing about the past—boys or her dad—was not at the top of her to-do list. But something hollow and wistful in her mother’s expression changed her mind. She sighed. “Sure, why not?”

Sam prepared her coffee and sank onto the couch opposite her mom, nestling back against the cushions. “How’s Davy after the near accident this morning?”

“He’s fine. Mike is too.” Angie gave her a pointed look over the rim of her mug. “They’re a little shaken up, but okay.”

“Maybe if Mike spent more time watching his son than watching—” The words stuck in Sam’s mouth and she quickly swallowed them with her coffee. The hot liquid burning her tongue was more tolerable than the heated expression on her mom’s face.

Angie frowned. “Watching what?”

Sam lowered her cup. “You. Mom, don’t pretend Mike doesn’t follow you around like a lovesick puppy.”

“Oh, he does not,” Angie scoffed, but something that looked a lot like amusement, even delight, lit her eyes.

“He does, too. He’s interested, which is pathetic because he must think you’re married.” She gestured to the ring on her mother’s left finger.

“He knows about your father.” Angie’s voice softened and she studied the glittering diamond on her hand. “We’ve talked about it before. He also knows I’m not ready to take this off yet.”

Relief filled Sam’s stomach and she set her coffee down, suddenly full. If her mom wasn’t ready to take off the ring, then there was no immediate danger of her getting serious with another man—especially Mike. Sam’s nose wrinkled. That’d be too many changes at once. No, one problem at a time. Saving the ranch came first, then finding love.