Trusting the Cowboy (12 page)

“I noticed Vic is riding a different horse this time,” she said to Finn. “When he first started he was on a pinto horse.”

“And he’ll probably be riding a couple more before the events are all done,” Finn said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his program rolled up in his hands as he scanned the grounds. “Those horses get a good workout, and you need them fresh and alert. It’s not uncommon for a pickup man to go through four or five horses over the course of the evening.”

“They seem so calm,” Lauren commented as she watched Vic and his horse, waiting at the end of the arena. “The horses.”

“They have to be,” Finn said. “But they also need a bit of kick to them.”

Lauren was confused. “What do you mean?”

“They have to run alongside a snorty horse full of adrenaline and stay in charge. Not be afraid to push back if the saddle bronc or bareback bronc wants to challenge them. And they have to be able to do all that in a noisy arena with all kinds of other things going on and still respond to what the rider wants.”

“Does Vic work as a pickup man often?” she asked, watching as he successfully roped a horse that wouldn’t come back and led it around the arena toward the alley leading to the back pens. With a skillful flip of his wrist he got the rope off and was now coiling it up, his movements slow, unhurried.

“Only once in a while since Dean’s accident,” Finn said.

“Vic seems to blame himself for that,” Lauren said.

“When a cowboy gets hurt, I think the pickup men always look back and wonder what they could have done differently. In Vic’s case it was his own brother that got hurt. But from what I heard, I doubt Vic could have changed the outcome no matter what he did.”

Then Finn nudged her with his elbow. “And why does this matter to you so much?”

Lauren knew the flush warming her neck and face was a giveaway, but she kept her eyes on Vic. “I hate to see someone take responsibility for something that they don’t have to.”

“Especially if his name is Vic?”

Lauren wasn’t going to get pulled into that tangle. So she said nothing.

“I think he likes you,” Finn added, rubbing his square jaw with his forefinger and giving her a knowing look. “And Vic’s not the kind of guy to show his hand too quick. Not when it comes to women. Not since Tiffany.”

Lauren pressed her hands between her knees, reminding herself that it shouldn’t matter to her if he’d had a romantic past. She did, too, after all.

But she was also a weak woman, and the memory of Vic’s kiss, the touch of his hand on her face, elicited emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Who was Tiffany?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself.

“A girl that caused a lot of complication in Vic’s life,” Finn said. “She was dating Dean for a while. Then she dumped him, hoping to get together with Vic. She and Vic had dated a few years before that. She was in the arena the day that Dean had his accident. But she left right after that.”

“Why?”

Finn shook his head, tapping the rolled-up program on his knee. “Vic wasn’t interested in her after that. But between getting dumped and the accident, Dean became a bitter young man. And it kept Vic shy of women since then.” Then Finn gave her a wry smile. “Until you.”

Lauren swallowed down a surprising jealousy, but at the same time she felt a renewed flutter at Finn’s insinuation. She wanted to brush it off and tell him he was crazy.

But just then Vic rode past. The event was over and he was walking his horse along the fence. And he was watching her.

She saw a faint smile on his lips, and her heart gave an answering beat. She had to catch herself from lifting up her hand in a wave.

“Next up, ladies’ barrel racing,” Jodie announced as she plonked herself down between Lauren and Finn. She carried a large cardboard tray loaded with French fries topped with a bright red mountain of ketchup. “And don’t you dare touch my fries,” she warned, glancing from Finn to Lauren.

“Trust me, the way you’ve bathed those in ketchup, I’m not tempted,” Lauren said.

“So you got over your scare?” Jodie asked, popping a fry in her mouth.

“What scare?” Lauren pretended not to know what her sister was talking about.

“Oh, c’mon. When Vic dived down to get that rider, you turned as white as a marshmallow.”

Lauren wasn’t sure how to respond to her sister’s teasing. On one hand it made her smile. She and her sisters used to tease each other mercilessly if there was any hint of attraction to any guy. Usually it became a chance to huddle up in someone’s bedroom when Gramma was asleep. Or, when they were at the ranch, while their father worked the night shift.

They would giggle, analyze and rhapsodize, and either encourage if they approved or discourage if they didn’t.

She knew Jodie approved of Vic. And that she hadn’t cared for Harvey. Somehow that seemed to add another layer to her changing emotions for Vic.

“Oh, look, there’s Aunt Laura finally come to join us.”

“Where?” Lauren asked.

“Look for the fluorescent plaid shirt and pink shorts,” Jodie said, standing up to wave.

And sure enough, there Aunt Laura was, making her way up the stairs, holding down her purple cowboy hat with one hand, a bag of popcorn in the other.

“Where does she find getups like that?” Finn asked as Aunt Laura slipped past the people at the end of the row. “I didn’t know boot companies even made purple cowboy boots.”

“Hey, Auntie,” Lauren said, when their aunt joined them.

“Hello, my dear girls. And Finn,” Aunt Laura said, giving Lauren a quick hug and Finn a salute with her bag of popcorn.

“How was your day?” Lauren asked.

“Not too bad. More lookie loos at the shop than buyers, unfortunately.” Aunt Laura sighed, giving Lauren a nudge. “I should get you to make up some arrangements for me. I’m sure they’d fly out of the cooler. You have a knack.”

Lauren waved off her compliments, then Jodie spoke up.

“The horse Finn trained is going to be competing next,” Jodie said to her aunt. “You came just in time.”

“Excellent. Is it competing on its own, this well-trained horse?”

Jodie gave her an arch look, catching the irony in her aunt’s voice. “Yes. Sans rider. Finn trained it so well it can run barrels on its own.”

“This I have to see,” Aunt Laura said, folding her hands on her lap, winking at Lauren.

Then a woman sat down behind Finn, and as she leaned forward, Lauren saw a flash of blond hair and caught the scent of almond perfume.

“Hey, Finn, do you think your nag stands a chance against the one I trained?” the woman teased.

Lauren glanced back and grinned when she saw who it was.

Her distant cousin Heather also trained barrel-racing horses. Lauren guessed that Finn and Heather had some healthy competition going on.

“Hey, Heather,” Lauren said, lifting her hand in a wave of greeting. “It’s been a while.”

“No kidding,” Heather said, patting her on the shoulder. “I heard you were back in town. So great to see you. We’ll have to catch up sometime.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Lauren said. The sight of her cousin brought back many good memories of times spent at the Bannister ranch.

“I not only think my well-broke and intelligent horse will do better than the one you took under your wing, I know it,” Finn said, a challenge in his voice.

“You two do realize that someone has to ride these trained animals,” Aunt Laura chimed in. “And that a good rider can make a poor horse compete better and that no amount of training can make up for a poor rider.”

“Aunt Laura, shush,” Heather said, placing her finger on her lips. “You start spreading those kinds of rumors and you’ll put me and Finn right out of a job.”

They all chuckled, then turned their attention to the first competitor. In spite of the teasing, they all cheered each competitor on as the girls went racing down the arena, guiding their horses around the barrels, leaning so far in that Lauren thought they might fall off.

“Sounds like the horse you trained is up next,” Jodie said to Finn, giving him a thumbs-up as the announcer called out the name of the next competitor. “Here’s hoping it doesn’t balk.”

“Don’t even say that word out loud,” Finn warned.

Jodie pressed her finger to the wrinkle above the bridge of his nose, then fluttered her fingers. “Frown, be gone.”

And when Finn laughed and gave Jodie a quick kiss, Lauren felt another tinge of envy.

That’s what she wanted, she told herself. What Jodie and Finn had. That easy give-and-take. She looked back at Heather and John, who were sitting close together, then at her aunt sitting on the other side of her. She felt surrounded by people she knew. A community.

She wanted this, too.

And what about your business? Isn’t that what you really want?

Panic swirled up in her at the questions. She couldn’t be wrong about the business, could she? Because if she didn’t have that, what did she have?

She looked away from Finn and Jodie, her hands clenched as she glanced around the arena.

Then she saw Vic. Perched on the top rail of the fence by the bucking chutes to watch the barrel racing. He wore his hat pushed back on his head, his gloves in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned ahead.

He looked over to where she was sitting and straightened, a smile slipping over his features.

Lauren felt a shift in her perspective. The hum of possibilities.

Did she dare put it all in this man’s hands?

Chapter Ten

V
ic led the last of his horses into the trailer, ran its lead rope through the metal loop on the side and secured it with a bowline knot. He gave it a tug to make sure it was solid, then walked around the horse, running his hands over its rump to make it aware of his position. The other horses whinnied, sensing they were headed home.

Vic jumped out of the trailer and as he grabbed the door, he saw a welcome sight.

Lauren, followed by Finn and Jodie, was walking through the dusty temporary pens toward him. Her blue jeans were snug, her white shirt loose and her hair hung around her face in a blond cloud, softening her features.

As did her welcoming smile.

“Great job tonight, Vic,” Finn said as they joined him. “That catch was one in a million. It’s probably all over the internet already.”

Vic just grinned as he closed the squeaking back gate of the horse trailer and latched it shut. “I doubt that.”

“You kidding?” Finn said, clapping his hand on Vic’s shoulder. “I’m sure there were at least a dozen phones trained on you. You’ll be a YouTube wonder.”

Vic just laughed, looking past Finn to Lauren, who had hung back but was watching him.

Just like he was watching her.

“You bringing your horses back to your ranch tonight?” Jodie asked, tucking her arm through Finn’s. “Aren’t you working again tomorrow?”

“Just for slack. Devlin is coming in tomorrow night, so I’m off.”

“Big plans for tomorrow night, then?”

Vic wished his eyes didn’t slip toward Lauren, and when he caught Finn’s smirk, he wished he had more self-control.

“Jodie and I should go,” Finn was saying. “I need to go congratulate Adelaide on her win tonight.”

Then they were gone, and Vic and Lauren were alone.

In the ensuing quiet, Vic felt suddenly self-conscious. Like some goofy teenager in the presence of his crush.

“That was quite something tonight,” Lauren said. “The way you rescued that rider.”

Vic shrugged off her praise, uncomfortable with his moment of fame. The young bronc rider had stopped him a few moments ago and given him an uncharacteristic—for a cowboy—hug. Then thanked him again and again.

“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” he said, putting on his best
aw, shucks
attitude and voice.

“Well, you went above and beyond. Finn said you guys are the unsung heroes of the rodeo, and I guess you proved that tonight.”

Her praise warmed his heart and his smile grew as their gazes held. “That means a lot to me.”

“I was glad I could witness it.” She took a step closer and then stood up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss over his cheek. “Your reward.”

Vic caught her by the hand as she drew back. “That means more to me than the hug I just got from the cowboy.”

“He gave you a hug? Hmm. I didn’t know that was an option,” Lauren teased. Then her expression grew serious. “I’m so thankful you’re okay. That cowboy was lucky to have you around.”

“Walden was there, too.”

“I know, but you were the one who put your life on the line.”

Her approval and admiration did much for his self-esteem even as he tried to minimize what he had done.

“So, are you heading home?” she asked as the horses in the trailer expressed their impatience by hitting their hooves on the aluminum sides.

“Yeah. I should get them out on pasture. And fed good for tomorrow.”

“Well, I hope it goes well for you tomorrow.”

“It would go even better if you agreed to go out with me tomorrow night.”

She hesitated, and for a beat he thought he had misread her, pushed too far. Then she smiled and nodded. “That would be lovely.”

“I thought we could go to Mercy. There’s a new restaurant there, not too city, not too country. A good mix of both.”

“So...champagne with the burgers,” she said.

“Or soda with the oysters,” he countered.

Her resounding laughter was like a cool breeze that washed over him.

“Great. I’ll come by about five thirty to pick you up. If that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” she replied.

He touched her cheek with his finger, then swooped in and stole a quick kiss.

The flush on Lauren’s cheeks was encouraging and adorable at the same time. He hadn’t thought he could have that affect on her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, her voice husky, her smile coy.

Then she walked away from him, but just before she turned down the alleyway where Jodie and Finn were, she shot a glance over her shoulder.

And gave him a smile that dived straight into his soul.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want dessert?” Vic asked, reaching across the table of the restaurant and taking Lauren’s hand.

She liked the casualness of it. The give-and-take of a comfortable relationship.

The restaurant was quiet for a Saturday evening, and she and Vic were tucked away in one corner. The lights were low, the music soft and candlelight cast Vic’s chiseled features into shadow.

“I’m delightfully full,” she said with a touch of regret as she glanced at the dessert menu lying beside her. “Though I have to say the pavlova cake and the lemon tart are tempting.”

“We could split them?”

Lauren thought a moment, then shook her head. “No, thanks, but I will have some more coffee.”

She wasn’t ready to leave yet, to go back home and end this magical evening. At the ranch she was always reminded of what he might gain or lose and what was at stake for her and her future.

Here it was just her and Vic, with no decisions hanging over her head. She had shut her phone off to stop the increasing flurry of texts from Amy. She didn’t want to think about anything but Vic.

“So Jodie was telling me that you might be doing the flowers for her wedding?” he asked.

“I might help out Aunt Laura.”

“You girls used to work with your aunt in her shop, didn’t you?”

“Mostly it was just me. Erin often had her nose buried in a book and Jodie would be upstairs in my aunt’s apartment above the shop, plunking away on the piano.”

Vic still held her hand, his fingers caressing hers. “That sounds great.”

“My aunt’s place was a small refuge for us. A place we could relax and be ourselves. Being at her flower shop brought back some wonderful memories.”

“Any other good memories of being here?” Vic asked.

Lauren twisted her fingers around his, looking down at them as she combed through her thoughts. “I remember going for trail rides up into the hills with Dad a few times. He could be patient when he chose to be.” She looked up at him. “Going riding with you on the ranch brought back some of those memories. Reminded me of how beautiful the ranch is.”

“So it wasn’t always horrible to come here every summer?”

A peculiar tone had entered his voice. As if he needed to know how she felt about being here.

“No. It wasn’t. In fact, we had a freedom here that we never had at our grandmother’s place. Dad would give us a list of chores to do and then either go off to work or do other things on the ranch. Once we were done with our list, we could do our own thing. A benign neglect at times, but I think he didn’t know what to do with three young girls all summer. Sometimes the chores took longer than we wanted them to and occasionally, if we rushed through them, he would make us do them over again if we didn’t do them properly.”

“What kind of chores did you have to do?”

“Believe it or not, we had chickens. Had to gather the eggs. Brush and groom the horses. Put halters on them and lead them around to get them used to being handled. Clean the house. Do laundry. Weed the flower beds, but that fell mostly to me. Jodie had to practice her piano. Erin was usually in charge of making supper. She was the better cook.” Lauren’s mind sifted back to that time, old memories coming out of being on her own with her sisters, laughing and joking and teasing each other. And, to her surprise, they made her smile. Then she turned her attention back to him. “What kind of chores did you have to do?”

“I can tell you Dean and I had it much tougher than you did,” Vic said, his fingers making light circles on hers. “We had heavy-duty chores. Hauling and stacking square hay bales, moving large round ones. Helping move cows. Tractor work. Some field work. Manly stuff.”

Lauren laughed at his mock seriousness. “Are you and Dean close? Finn told me that when he lived with you after his father died that he loved being at your parents’ place.”

Vic’s expression grew pensive, then he gave her a wry smile. “Dean and I were close. Until...” His sentence faded away and a pained look crossed his features.

“Until the accident?” she prompted.

“Partly. But mostly until Tiffany.”

She’d heard about her from Finn and Jodie. Now she wanted to know more.

“Who was she?”

“A girlfriend we had in common.” He pulled his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest, his body language fairly crying out
no trespassing
.

But Lauren sensed that things were changing between her and Vic. She couldn’t let this go. She felt as if they were on the cusp of something important. And she wanted to know everything about him before she dared move forward.

“What do you mean?”

“I’d liked her, and we dated for a while. But she was more attracted to Dean. So we broke up and she dated Dean for a couple of years,” he said. “But then things weren’t working out for them. Dean found out that she wanted to go out with me again. She didn’t like the life Dean was living. Partying, drinking. You know what he was like.”

She did. Dean always drove the fastest, partied the hardest and talked the toughest. Those were many of the reasons why they’d talked Erin out of dating him when he’d asked her out years ago.

“Anyway, she got tired of it, so she said. She came to talk to me about him and in the process told me that it was me she really cared for. That dating Dean was a mistake.” Vic sighed and shook his head. “I told her that she had to end it with Dean. That it wasn’t fair to him. So she did. Trouble was, she told me she had done it the week before. So the night of the rodeo, she called me. Told me she was going to be in the audience. Watching me.”

He shook his head. “Dean’s horse was taking a while to settle down and I kept looking for her in the stands. Then I heard her call out to me. I turned to look at her just as Dean’s horse jumped out of the chute. It was in that distracted moment that Dean was injured.”

“What happened?”

“He made a turn away from where I was. His horse made a spin, not a bad one. Nothing Dean couldn’t have handled, but for some reason Dean lost his balance. His leg was crushed against the fence and caught between the bars as the horse pulled away.”

Lauren winced, thinking of how close some of today’s riders had come to the fence. “So you’ve always thought Dean’s injury was your fault?”

“I should have paid attention. I shouldn’t have looked when Tiffany called me.”

Lauren heard the pain in his voice. The regret. Then something Vic had said caught her attention. “But you just said Dean could have handled the spin his horse gave him.”

“It’s not my job to assume that. It’s my job to watch out for the cowboys. Always. And what made it worse was that Tiffany lied to me. She hadn’t broken up with Dean the week before. She had just broken up with him that night. Right before he had to ride.”

“How cruel of her.”

“Not the best timing, but then, neither was mine.”

“So in reality, Dean was even more distracted than you were,” Lauren said.

“What are you saying?”

“Dean’s frame of mine was probably worse than yours when he climbed on that horse. Just before he’s supposed to ride, his girlfriend breaks up with him? He surely can’t have had all his attention on what he had to do.”

“Doesn’t excuse my carelessness.”

“Maybe not, but Dean’s concentration should have been on his ride. I’m sure it wasn’t. So most likely he wasn’t performing the way he usually did. Even if you had been watching him the entire time, I doubt you could have prevented his accident.”

The puzzled look on Vic’s face told Lauren that he might not have considered this possibility before.

“When I saw you working today, I saw a man who was in charge. A man who knew exactly what he was doing all the time. The way you handled that cowboy caught up in his stirrup showed skill and foresight. You know what you’re doing, and I don’t think that one moment of distraction was the problem.”

“So you’re thinking Dean is as much to blame as I am.”

“I’m not thinking it’s a matter of who’s to blame. I’m thinking the whole mess is a series of circumstances that were beyond your and Dean’s control. It was an accident.”

Vic sat back, frowning, as if mulling it over.

“I have a feeling that you and I are more alike than we realize,” she continued. “I often felt guilty over what happened to Jodie—when she and Dad got into that awful fight and she injured her hand. I felt I should have been there to talk reason into both of them. But I wasn’t and I doubt I could have. I think as oldest siblings we feel like we have to take care of our younger sibs. And if something happens, we think it’s our fault.”

“Maybe.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

She leaned forward, reaching out to him. “I don’t think it’s right of you to take all that on yourself. Tiffany doesn’t sound like she’s a real class act. No offense.” She realized too late how catty and jealous that might sound.

A wry smile crawled across Vic’s lips. “She wasn’t the best choice for either Dean or me. My mother never liked her, which should have been my first clue.”

“At any rate, I think you’ve been putting too much of the blame on your shoulders, when I don’t think it belongs there.”

Vic took both her hands in his. Squeezed them hard. “Thanks for saying that. I don’t agree with you one hundred percent, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s not a sentiment. You’re a good man and you take good care of your family. You can’t let this one event that wasn’t even your fault take all the good parts of you away.” She squeezed his hands back.

Then, to her surprise and pleasure, Vic lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each one. He gave her a tender smile, his eyes glowing in the low light. “I think it’s time to ask for the check.”