The Cowboy Way (4 page)

Maybe she
was
too overprotective of Kevin, but that
was because she was determined not to let anything more happen to her son. She realized that she couldn't guarantee she'd be able to keep him safe forever, but she could sure as hell try.

“Let's get back to the lesson,” she said.

He held his hands up in surrender. “I'll drop it.” He grinned. “For now.”

“Forever.”

He moved his hat back to its usual position. “Lift the left stirrup and hook it over the horn. Good. Grab the cinch strap. Good. Pull it through. Good. You got it. Nothing to it. Now tighten it up. Harder.”

She grunted and tightened the strap as much as she could. She wasn't a weakling. After the accident she had developed muscles that she hadn't known she had.

“Now what?”

Jake gripped the saddle horn and jerked it. “Not good enough. Thunder puffed himself up.”

“He did what?”

“He doesn't like being cinched, so he swells himself up. Brace yourself with a knee against his ribs—” he pointed “—about here.”

“I can't do that!”

“It won't hurt him.”

“I still can't do it.”

“Okay.” He nudged Thunder with a knee. “Don't make me get ugly in front of the lady, horse. She adores you. Knock it off.”

Jake easily tightened the cinch another few inches.

“Good boy.” Jake fed him a piece of carrot and turned to Beth.

He handed her a bridle. “Go for it.”

She stared down at the leather and metal in her hand, then at Thunder's big yellow teeth. “I guess you can keep your boots on after all. I don't remember this part.”

“Hold the bridle like this, and slip it under his chin and up over his eyes like this.”

She tried to concentrate as he demonstrated, but instead she noticed the faint scar that started just below Jake's ear and ran to his jaw.

“This is a split-ear bridle. It goes around each ear. The bit rests forward in the horse's mouth.”

He stopped as Thunder's mouth opened. “See? Thunder's used to it. He knows what to do even if you don't.”

“Thank goodness.”

“You ready to try it?”

“As I'll ever be.”

“Relax. He's not going to bite you.”

His arms wrapped around her from behind. She could feel every hard muscle, every mountain and valley of his body against hers. His crotch bumped against her backside. She tried not to notice.

Oh, sure.

He helped her guide the bridle into place. “See? Nothing to it,” he said.

Why am I so warm?

She turned and found herself staring at Jake's full lips. They turned up into a sly grin.

He was so close, so overwhelmingly masculine, and she had a strong desire to get away from him. She stepped back.

“Drop 'em.”

“What?”

“Drop the reins to the ground. Thunder's a cattle
horse. He's trained to stand still when the reins are dropped to the ground.”

She just couldn't think around him, and she hated to feel so out of control, so disjointed. “Oh. You want me to drop the reins.”

She did as instructed. Thunder stood as still as a statue in a park.

“Ready to ride?”

She nodded, feeling like she was a kid again. She was at the horse barn at the state fair. Only this time, the horse was hers.

He patted the horse's neck. “Cowboy up!”

 

Her cheeks were flushed. Jake suspected it was because he made her nervous and she wasn't particularly fond of him. But perhaps she was just excited about riding the horse.

She sucked in a deep breath. “I guess this is how Kevin feels. Maybe he's more like me than I've given him credit for.”

“Ah, so you're a cowgirl at heart?”

“When I was a girl, I wanted a horse more than anything in the world.” She petted Thunder's neck. “We lived in a tract house, so there wasn't enough land for a horse. Even if my father had bought one, he couldn't afford to stable it.”

Jake couldn't imagine growing up without horses and cattle. He needed wide-open spaces. “Out here, just about every kid grows up with a horse, or dozens of them.”

“This means a lot to me. How can I thank you, Mr. Dixon?”

“By calling me Jake, for heaven's sake.”

She started to protest, then her jaws shut. “Okay.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “Finally.”

He held Sidewinder's…er…Thunder's reins and lightly touched her arm. “Up you go.”

Jake gave her a gentle push on her cute behind. She landed in the saddle and grinned down at him. “It's pretty high up here.”

“You'll get used to it.” He handed her the reins, and she took them. She clutched the saddle horn, her knuckles turning white. “Relax, Beth. Take a deep breath and relax. Thunder won't do anything stupid.”

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “But I'm afraid I might.”

“I personally tested him for Wheelchair Rodeo. He's a good, calm horse. Just relax and enjoy.”

He showed her how to hold the reins. “I'm just going to lead him around the corral until you get used to the motion.”

“Ramon!” He cupped his hands and shouted to a group of cowboys who were watching intently. “As long as you're just sitting there looking pretty, would you mind saddling Lance for me?”

One of them jumped down from the fence. “You got it, bro.”

 

Jake continued to walk Thunder around the corral. She noticed that the more they circled, the worse Jake limped. No doubt the loose soil was taking a toll on whatever was wrong with him.

“I'm comfortable now, Jake. I can see you limping. Wait until Ramon brings your horse out.”

“Move forward in the saddle.”

“Huh?”

“Move forward.”

She did, and before she could blink, Jake had swung a leg up behind her and they were both sitting on the saddle. His arms and thighs were tight around her and she felt him snug against her bottom.

She sat up straight and tried to put a breath of air between them, but there was none to be had. She could smell the laundry soap clinging to his shirt and his unique scent, a tantalizing mixture of pine and leather.

He made a clicking sound and moved the reins. Thunder turned and walked, and she felt the animal's hardness against her, rocking…rocking…

“A couple more times and then we'll take a slow ride on the Chisholm Trail,” he said.

His voice was low and seductive in her ear. She wanted to lean her head back on his chest and feel the vibration of his deep voice passing through her.

Instead, she struggled to take her mind off him.

She finally found her voice. “I'd like to ride the Chisholm Trail.”

“We also have the Santa Fe Trail and the Dixon Trail and a couple more. They go up in level of difficulty. Guests can only go on the trails I approve them for. The cowboys who work here get a copy of my list each morning, and it's posted in the bunkhouse. No one can go to the next trail unless I pass them.”

Jake Dixon ran a tight ranch, and against her better judgment she was starting to like him.

But she still wasn't sure she could trust him with her son.

R
amon led Lance over. Jake steered Thunder to the corral fence and got off using one of the slats. He immediately felt better with the pressure of Beth's body off his groin. If he had spent any more time snug in the saddle with Beth, he would have embarrassed himself.

Beth was watching his every move. He would have thought that she was interested in him, but he knew better. She was taking his measure, and interested in riding Thunder somewhere other than in a circle around the corral.

“Ready for the Chisholm Trail, city slicker?” he asked.

She grinned. “Round 'em up, move 'em out. Lead the way, cowboy.”

He liked it when she loosened up and joked with him.

“Our Chisholm Trail goes from behind the mess hall
to behind the cabins. It ends at your cabin. Then we cross the bridge over the Gold Buckle River and end up right back here.”

She looked toward where he pointed. “Here comes Kevin!” she said, waving.

“Kevin and K.C. Safe and sound,” Jake said. “Kevin has a grin the size of a prize banana. Just like his mother.” Her happiness made Jake feel that his time was well spent. “Shall we hit the trail?”

“I'm ready.”

“Follow me.”

Jake watched Beth's face as she rode. She focused intently, yet she had a look of pure pleasure. A gentle breeze blew her golden hair back from her face, and her lips parted in a slight smile. Her eyes were bright, and she seemed to have more energy than she had the day before.

That's what he liked about the Gold Buckle. It gave the guests the opportunity to experience new things—things they couldn't do at home.

Wheelchair Rodeo was part of that, but to see a sunrise on a cool, crisp Wyoming morning, to see the eagles fly and the mountains up close…well, there was nothing better.

It was a good stress reliever, and Beth Conroy needed to relieve a lot of stress.

Maybe he'd find time to take her on a trail ride of their own. They could camp in the wildflowers at the foot of Old Baldy. Then they'd take a nice, cool skinny-dip in the little creek that runs along the trail. He'd get Cookie to pack one of his special picnic lunches and throw in a cold jug of his homemade lemonade.

He'd build a campfire and they'd sleep under the
stars, snuggled together. He'd catch some fish for breakfast, and he'd filet and cook them while Beth made the coffee….

He had to be loco. Maybe that was his idea of a perfect date, but Beth didn't seem the camping type. She'd probably want to get dressed up and go somewhere fancy. Besides, camping would mean leaving Kevin in the bunkhouse with the cowboys. She'd never agree to that.

And for what he was thinking, he couldn't take Kevin.

But it didn't make sense to get any closer to her. Women liked hearth and home. That was his experience, anyway. Oh, they might like sex once in a while, but basically they really wanted to settle down.

Not him. He followed the rodeos and the bull riding. When he was healthy, he traveled to about forty events a year—about thirty of those were strictly bull-riding events where his ranking qualified him for the Finals in Las Vegas. Another dozen or so were small rodeos where he rode more bulls just to keep in shape.

He was a bull rider. It was more than what he did. It was who he was.

Beth deserved someone who could be a husband to her and a father to Kevin.

Why was he even thinking along those lines? When he was stomped on by White Whale in Loughlin, some of his brains must have leaked out on the arena dirt.

No settling down for him. Even if he were the type, he certainly wouldn't marry Beth Conroy. She had baggage. He had goals. He was going to be on top again. He was going to win the Finals in October.

He glanced at Beth. She had her face turned up to
the summer sun. He pictured her in that little slip of a nightgown she had on this morning, and thought again of making love to her.

The sun must be cooking his brain.

“You should wear a hat,” he told Beth. “The sun'll get to you after a while.” Just like it was getting to him.

“This is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.” She leaned over to pat Thunder's neck.

“Glad you're having fun.”

“I am.”

It did his heart good to see her finally relaxing and not worrying so much. He could tell that she needed a break from everything, especially the demands of caring for a physically challenged child.

He turned his face up to the sun and grinned. This was one benefit of Wheelchair Rodeo he hadn't counted on—and probably neither had Beth.

 

Following Jake wasn't easy, or maybe it was. Beth couldn't keep her eyes off his backside. His jeans were taut across his butt, and his butt was firmly planted in the saddle. As Lance walked, Jake swayed.

His crisp, checkered shirt was tucked into his jeans as usual. Silver conchos on his brown leather belt glinted in the sun, calling attention to his slim waist.

He was driving her crazy.

She attributed her fascination with him to the fact that she'd been without any kind of male companionship for several years. Even when she was married to Brad, she'd felt alone. Brad had found companionship with his cases of beer and with his pals at work and at the golf course.

Brad had never wanted her to work, claiming “bread
winner” status. It was what he'd wanted, and truthfully she enjoyed puttering. She had never wanted for anything, other than a sober husband and father to Kevin. Her only diversion had been making their house into a showpiece.

“It'll help my career,” Brad had insisted. “The house will reflect the fact that I'm well-off and successful, and I'll attract higher caliber clients.”

Just as she was about to divorce him, Brad had tried once again to remain sober. After he died and she was sorting through his papers—
their papers
—she discovered thousands of dollars' worth of outstanding bills that a whole battalion of high-caliber stock investors couldn't pay for.

Since he'd never let her take care of the finances, she hadn't known how far beyond their means they were living. It was stupid of her for not insisting that they at least share the financial tasks. It was even more stupid to stay with Brad for as long as she had, but she didn't want to end up like her parents, with seven marriages between them. She'd thought it would be better for Kevin to grow up with both parents, but apparently she'd been wrong.

“How are you doing?” Jake's deep voice was a welcome interruption to her thoughts.

“Wonderful.” She inhaled the scent of pine. “It's a beautiful day.”

“It sure is.” He stopped his horse. “The trail is wide enough for us to walk side by side. I doubt if you want to look at my butt for the whole ride.”

If he only knew.

She moved up next to him. “I love how the water
sparkles when the sun shines through the trees and how it makes the water dapple.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dapple?”

“Yes. Dapple.” She relaxed her hands that were gripping the reins. “What word would you have used?”

“
Dapple.
Absolutely. I would have used
dapple.
”

She liked his sense of humor, and she liked him more with each hour they spent together.

“Tell me more about Wheelchair Rodeo.”

“What do you want to know?”

“How did you come to think of it?”

He swung a leg around the saddle horn to look at her. To him, this slow walk was probably as dull as sitting in a rocking chair. If he wasn't being tossed around like a rag doll for eight seconds on a bull, he was probably bored.

“Ever hear of the Western Wishes program?”

“Sure. It tries to grant the wishes of children who are disabled or fighting illness.”

“Exactly. Well, one little gal wanted to meet me. Her name was Chelsea. After a bull-riding in Boise, Idaho, I drove to see her in the hospital. She was just this little thing, and her hair was all gone from chemo, but she had the biggest smile.”

“That was nice of you to spare the time, Jake.”

He waved off her comment. “She cheated death. She went into remission, and I invited Chelsea and her family to the ranch. I taught her how to ride, and now she's a freshman at UNLV and on the barrel-racing team. She comes every year to help out with Wheelchair Rodeo, but she couldn't make it this year. Her cancer is back.”

“Oh, Jake. No. I thought your story was going to have a happy ending.”

“I wouldn't count Chelsea out yet. She's a fighter.”

“Is she the one whose place I'm taking?”

He nodded. “And we appreciate your help.”

“I'll help in whatever way I can, of course! But go on with your story.”

“Most of the big events I go to have a little rodeo for disabled kids before the competition. I've always tried to be there to help out. Then it hit me. The Gold Buckle could have a regular program during the summer—you know, expand on what I did with Chelsea. I brought the idea to my folks, and they loved it. My mother added the contest. She thought it would be a break for the caretakers as well as the kids.”

Beth straightened her back. “It's a lot of work for you, isn't it? There has to be an enormous amount of organizing and programming.”

“It is, but I love to do it. There's something about the look on the kids' faces at the flag raising. They're so excited, so thrilled to be cowboys, if only for a while.”

For such a strong man, he was a cream puff. She liked him for that. “For a week, they can forget that they are disabled. That's so important,” Beth added. “So, what's tomorrow going to be like?”

“There'll be roping lessons with the cowboys, horses to pick out for the kids who just arrived, lessons on saddling and bridling and horse care. You and Kevin got a jump on that.”

He was as excited as Kevin was. She could hear it in his voice.

“After two days of lessons and hands-on, we hit the trail for a campout. That means sleeping under the stars, chuck wagon meals, songs and ghost stories around the
campfire, singing and whatever. We have a baseball game, the cowboys against the kids, and there's swimming lessons.”

“The kids will love it.” Beth remembered that she had volunteered to help out with the girls. “What about bathrooms?”

“Handicapped-accessible and environmentally safe flush toilets. Built by yours truly and some of my buddies a couple years ago.”

“Brilliant.”

“I know.” He grinned at her. “There are two cabins there. My parents use one, the other is the infirmary. They both have all the modern conveniences. There's a picnic pavilion where Cookie sets up his kitchen, and a barn for the horses.”

“A cook by the name of Cookie?”

“His real name is Floyd, but all the chuck wagon cooks are traditionally called Cookie.”

“How about shower facilities?”

“The river.”

“So we sleep in tents?”

“Yep. In sleeping bags.”

“Heat?”

“Campfire.”

“Snakes?”

“They taste just like chicken.”

When she didn't laugh, he added, “Hopefully not,” and swung his leg back over into position. “You aren't the camping type?”

“I don't know if I am or not. I've never slept outside or on the ground in my life. Never used a bathroom that wasn't inside and that didn't flush. I don't like toasted
marshmallows. Never ate from a chuck wagon. Never knew anyone named Cookie. And until now, I've never been on a horse for any length of time. But I'm willing to give all of it a chance.”

“I imagine that's what the pioneers said.”

She didn't know if she was a pioneer, but she did feel her spirit returning, and that had everything to do with the cowboy next to her. He was attentive to her. He made her feel attractive. He made her feel alive.

Jake stopped to let her go first over the bridge. She didn't know what made her turn around, but she did.

“What are you looking at, Jake?” She bit back a smile. She knew exactly what he was looking at. The same thing that she'd been looking at on him.

“Thunder, of course,” he lied. “Just checking his gait.”

“Uh-huh.”
So, the cowboy was checking her out.
Interesting. She supposed she should be flattered, but instead it made her jumpy.

They continued along the Chisholm Trail. The front of her cabin was just ahead on the right.

“Home sweet home,” she said. She was beginning to feel sore, and her back was killing her.

“No way. You have to unsaddle Thunder, brush him down and clean his tack like every good Wheelchair Rodeo participant.”

“You're a tough trail boss.”

“You don't know how tough I can be.” His gruff act was tempered by the sparkle in his eyes.

“I've read a lot about you, Jake.”

“You have?” He raised an eyebrow and grunted. “You've never struck me as a fan.”

“When Kevin was in the hospital for one of his operations, he was missing a lot of school and falling behind in his subjects, especially reading. The only things he wanted to read were articles about you. When he wasn't up to reading, he had me read to him. I bought him every bull-riding and cowboy magazine I could. You were in all of them.”

Jake looked off at the distant mountains.

“But I never read anything much about Wheelchair Rodeo. Kevin found out about your contest from a letter he received from your fan club. I think we got on a mailing list after I asked them for an autographed picture of you.”

He nodded. “I don't talk about Wheelchair Rodeo to the press. We have a steady supply of donations and volunteers and visitors, so I don't need to. I don't want it to seem like I'm using the kids for publicity. The press has a way of tweaking things, and the truth usually gets lost in the translation.”

If this cowboy was the real deal, he was one amazing man indeed.