скачать книгу бесплатно
Kyle jerked the plastic cap off his head, hazel eyes never wavering from Sheriff Connelly. The crowd of men who’d helped had since moved on. They bustled around the next rider as the announcer droned on about something she couldn’t quite catch. Her son’s hair stuck straight up, but instead of the scowl she expected to see, all she spotted was something close to stunned surprise.
“You’re Brennan Connelly.”
Whoa. Wait. What? She knew the name. Her big brother had told her all about the man who’d walked away from the sport of rodeo to join the military. The world champion turned lawman.
“I am,” he said with an easy smile.
“Your poster is hanging on my wall.”
That’s why he looked so familiar. That’s why she’d been taken aback by the eerie sensation that she’d met him before. She had met him before. In her son’s bedroom. Every night she saw this man’s face when she kissed her son good-night, a much younger version, more lean, less...friendly looking, but still devastatingly handsome. If she were honest, she’d gone back to her own bedroom and...
No, no, no. Don’t go down that road. Not now. Not with the real thing standing here in front of you.
“My poster?” Bren asked, including her in his grin. “How the heck did you find one of those?
“I ordered it online. My uncle Jax told me about you. About how you lived close by and about how you won the world championship, but that you walked away from it all right after and became a Green Beret. I looked you up, watched your ride on the internet. It was awesome.”
Green Beret? No wonder the man oozed testosterone.
“These days he coaches our high school rodeo team,” said the same old man who’d greeted him earlier. He patted Bren on the back. “Taken them all the way to the national finals four years in a row. Almost won the whole shebang this year. We would have, too, if Will’s hand hadn’t slipped out of his wrap.”
“You teach kids how to ride?”
It was Kyle who’d spoken and she recognized the tone in his voice. She knew what was coming next, moved to intercept the words. “Nice to meet you, Sheriff Connelly. Thanks for helping settle my nerves.”
“You were nervous?” her son asked before turning back to Brennan. “Can you teach me?”
“Of course he can,” said the gray-haired man Lauren suddenly wanted to kill. He had skin as worn as his blue jeans, but the blue eyes were still sharp as a tack. “Been teaching kids for years.”
“Now, Samson,” Bren said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “This nice young woman doesn’t want my help.”
“I want your help,” said her son. “I really need to learn how to ride, but my mom won’t let me practice because she thinks all bull riders are dumb. Actually, she thinks everything to do with the rodeo is dumb. I’ve been trying to tell her that isn’t true, and that I could get a scholarship or something for college if I’m good enough and that I could make lots of money. Ouch.” Her son jerked away from her. “Mom.”
She hadn’t even realized she’d dug her hands into her son’s shirt.
Earth, just swallow me whole.
When she spotted the amused twitch in Bren’s eyes, she felt her face flame with color, too.
Dumb, huh? his grin seemed to ask.
“Kid’s right,” Samson interrupted with a firm nod. “There’s intercollegiate teams that compete for titles. Sure, it’s not as glamorous as, say, football or basketball, but it’s a good, clean sport.” The man all but wagged a finger at her. “You don’t hear about no bull riders beating up their girlfriends or making money on fighting dogs. Rodeo’s an honorable sport that’s known for turning boys into men. Just look at Brennan here. Rodeo team in college. Went pro for a couple years, then went off to serve his country.”
Oh, dear Lord.
“I know.” She glared at Kyle, silently telling her son they’d have words later. Kyle had the grace to look slightly abashed. “But he’s never ridden anything in his life. We just moved to my brother’s ranch outside of town and now Kyle thinks he’s a cowboy, and I told him it takes more than petting a horse to make you a cowboy. Now he’s got it in his head that he can be a bull rider, and my brother encourages it all. The man all but blackmailed me into entering him today, something I didn’t want to do, because I think he needs to learn how to ride a horse before he can ride a steer, and clearly I was right about that because he didn’t stick on for more than a second today.”
“It was longer than a second,” Kyle protested.
She was rambling, feeling stupid and out of place and, yes, guilty thanks to the look of recrimination on the old man’s face.
“Who’s your brother?” Bren asked.
The question threw her for a moment. “Jax,” she said. “Jax Stone. He owns Dark Horse Ranch.”
She should have known the name would be recognized. If she knew anything about Via Del Caballo, it was that it was a small town and everyone seemed to know everybody.
“That’s that newfangled therapy ranch at the old Reynolds place, isn’t it?” Samson asked. “For army vets.”
“Actually, it’s for veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder, and he only bought a portion of the Reynoldses’ place. He didn’t buy it all.”
But he could have. Her brother could afford to buy pretty much whatever he wanted, like her son’s new bull-riding vest and the helmet, which had been a birthday present to Kyle last month. She’d wanted to kill her brother at the time, only she’d spotted the pride and joy and excitement on her son’s face, emotions she hadn’t seen since before Paul had died.
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about Jax Stone,” Bren said. “Been meaning to drive over to his place and introduce myself.”
“You could do that today,” Kyle said excitedly. “He’s here at the rodeo.”
“I’m sure Mr. Connelly has more important things to do than meet my brother,” Lauren said gently, forcing a smile.
“Actually, I don’t.”
She should have known he’d say that.
“Mom, pleeeease?” Kyle begged. “Let’s go over there right now, ask him what he thought about my ride.”
The announcer’s voice grew loud again and they all turned to watch as a steer burst from the chutes, its rider clinging to its back. One jump, two, three. The steer bucked left and then right, the kid never once losing his grip.
“That’s Pete Hale, one of Bren’s students,” Samson said. “Gonna make it big if he keeps this up.”
The air horn blew. The boy made it look as if he hopped off a carousel horse. Kyle’s hand found her own. She glanced down, and she saw it then. The hope. The desire. The need to be good at something when he’d only ever been bad at sports. Too short for basketball. Too skinny for football. Perfect for riding steers.
Don’t ruin this for him.
She’d been angry about Bren Connelly saying that, but he’d been right. If her son had seen how badly she’d been affected by his ride, he might have realized just how much she didn’t want him riding. He’d give it up for her. He was that kind of kid. Always had been—even before Paul’s death.
Damn it.
“All right. Let’s go.”
“Awesome!” Kyle cried.
Chapter Two (#ulink_c9b9af6e-6351-597f-8d37-04148489be44)
Nervous mothers.
They were the bane of a bull rider’s life. His own mom had given up going to rodeos. He suspected Kyle Danners’s mom would be no different. Once she let go of the apron strings, she’d realize it was easier to sit at home and wait for a phone call. Out of sight, out of mind. That’s what his mom used to say.
“My uncle Jax will love meeting you,” Kyle was saying as they walked around the edge of the rodeo arena. The Via Del Caballo Rodeo Grounds was a small venue compared to Redding’s or Cheyenne’s. They’d used the hillside next to the arena for grandstands, building right into the side of them, and it might be a junior rodeo, but it was still packed. Young and old sat beneath the partly cloudy skies. By the time they made their way through the horses and people milling around the outside of the arena, the steer riding was almost over.
“Pete Hale is going to win it,” Kyle said, whipping around to face him.
“Looks that way.”
“I can’t wait for you to teach me how to ride, too.”
“Kyle,” Lauren interrupted. “You shouldn’t assume Sheriff Connelly wants you for a student.”
People watched him walk by, but it was like old home week for him. Usually he spent his time at a rodeo behind the chutes and not in uniform. Half the town seemed to call his name or wave or simply smile. It was a campaign year, which meant every handshake might count for a vote, although in truth he took pride in knowing the names and faces of many Via Del Caballo citizens.
“Besides, it looks like he probably won’t have time for you.”
“Actually, I might have time to help him out.”
“Really?” Kyle cried so loudly a few people glanced in his direction. “Awesome!”
“Your mom’s right, though. The best thing for you is to learn how to ride. And not just regular riding but how to jump.”
“What?” Kyle said.
His mom looked just as perplexed, but she’d stopped at the end of an aisle and he could see a man staring at her, a man a few years younger than he was, which only solidified his earlier assumption that Lauren Danners was at least ten years his junior. Far too young for him, and made to look even younger with her tiny little nose and big hazel eyes. He’d wondered where her husband was.
“You don’t mean over obstacles, do you?”
He bit back a smile. “Actually, I do.”
Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a man calling out, “Good job, little dude.”
“Did you see me, Uncle Jax?” Kyle asked with pride on his face. “I did it. I didn’t chicken out.”
“I saw.”
They had to bump and nudge their way down the aisle. Someone called out his name again, and Bren waved at them blindly.
“Jax, this is Bren Connelly,” his sister said, sitting next to her brother, the resemblance startling. They both had dark hair and hazel eyes, but Lauren’s were more green than gold. Looking at them sitting there next to each other, he realized Jax was quite a few years older than his sister.
“Wait a second,” Jax said. “Brennan Connelly. The bull rider?”
“One and the same.”
They shook hands. “Heard a lot about you.”
“Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhat?” Kyle bounced in his seat.
“What?” asked Jax.
“Sheriff Connelly is going to teach me how to ride steers.”
Jax’s brows lifted in surprise. “You teach steer riding?”
“Kyle, stop.” Lauren shook her head, shooting both men a look of apology, her long dark hair falling loose around her shoulder. “He has a bad habit of assuming things.”
“But he said he would.”
“Actually, what I said was that first you need to learn how to ride.”
“You said jump,” Kyle said.
“Which means riding.”
The rodeo announcer’s voice drowned out the sound of the crowd and they all turned and watched the last rider burst from the chute. The boy threw his arm up in the air and rode for one jump, two and then three. Bren wondered if the kid would cover for eight, but the steer changed directions and the poor boy didn’t stand a chance. In a heartbeat it was all over.
“Pete won!” Kyle said with youthful enthusiasm tinged by hero worship. “That’s so cool.”
“Actually, he hasn’t officially won yet. There’s more steer riding tomorrow.”
People began to stand up. The rodeo announcer thanked everyone for attending. Jax Stone didn’t move.
“You said he needed to learn how to jump. As in horses, yes?”
Bren nodded. “He should take some lessons from your neighbor Natalie Reynolds. She’s been working with a few of my kids.”
“I don’t understand,” Lauren said.
He turned to her, although that meant facing her again and being reminded of how young she was. “It teaches them how to center themselves on an animal’s back,” he explained. “Like a pendulum or a teeter-totter. The rider stays straight up and down while the horse—and later a steer or bull—rocks beneath them. Once a rider learns how to stay centered, the rest is easy.”
Jax was nodding. “Makes sense.”
“I don’t have to wear those riding tights, do I?”
“Kyle, really.” Lauren pursed her lips and shook her head. “I haven’t agreed for you to take lessons with Sheriff Connelly. I’m not even sure what he charges.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t worry about money,” her brother said.
“And I’ve told you I didn’t move out here to accept your charity. It’s bad enough I’m living in your housekeeper’s quarters.”
“I built that for you.”
“Yeah, for when I visited. Not permanently.”
“So what if you live there now?”
“I refuse to live with my brother.”
Lauren glanced in Bren’s direction, clearly embarrassed by their outburst. “Sorry,” she said. “You don’t need to hear our dirty laundry.”
Kyle stood up. “It’s not dirty laundry. It’s true. Ever since Dad died, Uncle Jax has wanted us to live with him, but you wouldn’t let us.”
“Kyle!”
