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He’d seen her before, at Zach and Mariah’s wedding, and he’d done a double take back then, too. He’d noted the blue, blue eyes. The heart-shaped face and wide lips. The only thing different was her thick blond hair. She’d cut it off. Still no makeup, though. Women as attractive as she was didn’t need anything to help them look better.
“You’re—”
“Natalie Goodman,” she finished for him with a small smile.
“That’s right.” It wasn’t like him not to look at a person directly, but for some reason he couldn’t maintain eye contact with this pretty blonde. “English trainer or something,” he said, slipping the halter on Teddy.
His friend Wes had mentioned her a few billion times. Wanted them to meet, thought they’d get along, yada yada yada. His friend didn’t understand. Beautiful or not. Animal lover or not. Smart or not. Colt wasn’t the relationship type. Never had been, never would be. His past was just too...messy. Military. Crazy dad. It’d all left a mark. Things never worked out, and that was okay. He didn’t need anybody or anything. Just his horses.
“Hunters and jumpers.”
He peeked back at her. She smiled even wider. He patted Teddy’s head. “Well, nice to see you again, Miss Natalie Goodman. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
With any luck, she’d leave. She didn’t. He glanced over at her again. Off-white shirt—peasant blouse, they called it—and skin tight jeans. Too good-looking for her own good. He didn’t think he’d made a good impression the first time they’d met, and judging by the way one side of her mouth lowered, he would bet he wasn’t earning any bonus points now.
He began tying Teddy to the trailer. “Something I can do for you, ma’am?”
“Actually, yes.” She forced the wattage of her smile back up a notch. “I need a favor.” But her grin was as precarious as a butterfly perched on the edge of a flower, and an instant later it slipped, that sweet face of hers rearranging itself into an expression of resignation. “Wes and Jillian suggested I talk to you.”
Colt could well imagine what was behind that suggestion, considering the number of times Wes had hinted at getting them together. He forced himself to look her full in the face.
“What kind of favor?”
“I need a horse trainer.”
He had to have misheard her. “Sorry?”
She took a step toward him and brushed her short hair over an ear, almost as if she’d forgotten for a moment that it wasn’t long anymore. “I need a trainer. Someone who can make horses do things I can’t.”
Teddy nudged him, almost knocking him over, reminding him that he’d been in the process of tending to the horse. Wasn’t like him to lose focus like that.
“Sorry, but I must be slow on the uptake. From what I’ve heard you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Horsewoman of the year. International fame. What could you possibly need me for?” He lifted a brow. “Thinking of chucking it all and starting your own rodeo company?”
The side of her mouth tipped upward again, the beginnings of a smile, a real smile, brightening her blue eyes. “Something like that.”
He finished tying up Teddy. He really didn’t have time to sit around and chat. He had to get on the road fairly quickly if he wanted to be up north before dark. He had a show in Sacramento tomorrow.
“So?” He bent to check one of Teddy’s front feet. “Do you have a problem horse or something?”
“I have a problem life.”
He set down Teddy’s foot. Join the club. “Okay, spill.”
Oddly, or maybe not so oddly since he made his living watching things closely, he found he could read her like a book. He spotted the way her desire to ask for help warred with her sense of independence. She didn’t really want to be there, standing in a parking area for rodeo competitors, talking to him.
“I’ve decided to take up a new discipline of riding.” The grin she wrestled onto her face didn’t seem to want to cooperate. “Freestyle reining, preferably without a bridle.”
He’d been about to cross to Teddy’s other side. Instead he froze and looked at her from beneath the angled brim of his cowboy hat. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
“What—did jumping lose its appeal?”
She looked down to the ground, but not before he caught the subtle flinch. “I need a change.”
Need? Not want? “And you can’t make that change yourself.”
It wasn’t a question, more like an affirmation of facts, but she didn’t seem to like the words because her head swung up. “Reining seems pretty straightforward compared to what I used to do, but in order to be competitive, I need help. And riding my horse without a bridle isn’t coming along as quickly as I’d like. I need someone to tell me what I’m doing wrong. Shouldn’t take you more than a visit or two.”
“Why do you want to ride bridleless?”
She lifted her chin. “Because it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I want to master it.”
And he’d always wanted to fly jet planes. Didn’t mean it would happen. “That can’t be done in a visit or two. Teaching a horse to trust you, to listen to you out of love and not because you demand it, something like that takes time.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“But I’ve got a full schedule. This time of year, summer, is my busiest season. I’ll be lucky to be home three days this month.”
“Could you spend one of those days with me?”
He almost laughed. Did the woman not understand? He spent most of his life on the road. The last thing he needed was one more thing to do when he managed to get home. “Not without rearranging a lot of stuff.”
“Just one lesson.”
He shook his head. “I told you. One lesson won’t be enough.”
“Then two. I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Don’t you have enough to do with your jumping career?”
Direct hit. Disappointment poured from her eyes. Disappointment and sadness and resignation. She tried to hide it, or maybe even to ignore it, but it didn’t work.
“I can’t jump anymore.” She tapped her head. “Bad wreck last year, right after Zach and Mariah’s wedding. I almost died.” She broke the connection of their gaze for a moment, clearly battling memories. He watched her take a deep breath before meeting his gaze again and saying, “I lost all my clients, had to sell the horses I jumped, gave up the lease on my riding facility. When I got back on the one horse I still owned it was like learning to ride all over again. I can train people on the flat, from the ground, and I have a few new clients now, but nothing like I had before. I need to keep all four feet on the ground—all four hooves, that is. No more jumping. It’s just not physically possible for me. So here I am, starting over, and reining is what I want to do.”
Don’t do it, he warned himself. Don’t you get sucked in by pity. Or a pair of pretty eyes.
“You really think you’ll never jump again?”
The chin tipped even higher. “I told you. Never.”
He glanced at Teddy. Though he told himself not to go down that road, he found himself wondering what he would do if he were told he could never perform with his animals again. If he was forced to stop doing the thing he loved, the thing that was his sanity. His calm in the storm of life. His saving grace.
Damn it.
“I can maybe give you one or two nights this month, if—” he stressed the word with an index finger “—I’m in town.”
“Oh, thank you!” She took a step forward. He knew what she wanted to do, and he stepped back just in time. The move stopped her cold, and it also brought puzzlement into her beautiful face.
“I’ll call you when it looks like I’ll be back.” He untied Teddy and headed for the rear of the trailer.
“Do you want my number?”
“I’ll get it from Wes.”
She nodded, her smile bursting forth like the sun over the horizon. “You won’t regret this.”
Too late, he thought as he loaded up his horse. He already did.
Chapter Two (#ulink_de8f52d3-b6c6-5f7d-bd1e-b9fba9fc0cc4)
The one good thing, Natalie thought, the only blessing, was that she’d found some new clients recently. Granted, they were all at a backyard barn in a not-so-good part of Via Del Caballo, but she’d given it her all and had been rewarded with half a dozen 4-H kids and a few adults.
No more million-dollar horses. No more big-ticket clients. No more fancy riding facility.
She tried not to think about that as she groomed Playboy, the horse she’d bought a few months before the accident. It was only by the grace of God, and a lot of help from her friends—Wes and Jillian, Zach and Mariah—that Natalie had held on to the gelding. Despite what she’d been told about the future of her riding career, she’d refused to give him up. Everything else had been sold to help pay medical bills.
Stop thinking about it.
She heard tires crunching on gravel, turned away from where Playboy had been tied to a single rail hitching post, and spotted Colt’s fancy black truck with all his sponsor logos splashed across the front. It looked out of place when he parked next to her beat-up Ford F250, like a new shoe sitting next to an old one. There were days when she definitely missed her previous truck, Lola. She watched as he glanced over at her vehicle, no doubt wondering why she drove such a jalopy. He was parked in front of an old lean-to stall, one with tattered fencing that had once been painted white, but was now more brown than anything else.
“Is that the guy?”
Laney, one of her 4-H kids, a girl with more passion for horses than half a dozen of the spoiled brats Natalie used to train, paused in the middle of mucking out her horse’s paddock. This was a self-service facility. No more grooms to take care of everything.
“That’s him.”
“I looked him up on Google last night,” Laney said, her blond ponytail sliding over one shoulder. “Did you know his dad was some kind of rodeo cowboy, too? He used to be really famous. Performed in movies and everything. Colt took over the family business.”
Yeah, if rodeo clowns could be famous. Not that Colt was a clown. Not really. A specialty act, they called it, and he was good. That’s what she needed to remember if she were ever to perform on the back of an animal again. If she ever wanted to hear the roar of the crowd and feel the pride that came from being united with a four-legged creature, Colt was her only hope.
“Wish me luck,” she said to Laney.
“Can I watch?”
“Sure. Why not?” Maybe the two of them would learn something together.
Colt had spotted her. He’d pulled up not far from where she’d tied Playboy. He gave her what seemed like a half-hearted wave.
“Here we go,” she softly told the gelding, stepping back and eyeing the horse objectively. He’d changed a lot in the year and a half she’d had him. His once mousey brown coat now had dapples. His mane had gotten longer, too, and he’d grown. He was nearing sixteen hands. Big for a Western horse, but she was nearly five-eight and he fit her perfectly.
If she could learn how to ride him again.
“Nice place,” she heard Colt say as he slipped out of his truck.
It wasn’t a compliment and it immediately got her dander up. “It’s affordable.”
She glanced around, trying to stem the flow of embarrassment that threatened to overcome her. Two years ago she would never, ever have considered keeping a horse in such a ramshackle facility, now here she was. Two years ago she would have stuck her nose in the air at the lean-to fencing, dirt road and uncovered arena. Not anymore.
“I bet.” He tipped back his cowboy hat. “But is it safe?”
Was he purposely trying to make her feel bad? It’d taken forever to get him out to the ranch. He’d handed her one excuse after another, and she’d resorted to calling Wes and begging for his help in the end. That had done the trick, but she wondered if Colt resented her forcing his hand.
“I went over every square inch of Playboy’s pen.” She patted the dark bay gelding’s neck. “I spent days cleaning out all the old muck. And another day replacing old boards. It’s in as good a shape as possible.”
Colt must have realized he’d offended her because he softened his gaze. “I’m sure you did.”
Her nerves made her edgy. And irritable, too. She hated that she’d had to ask for help. Hated that she was in some backwater barn working with a cocky cowboy who clearly didn’t want to be there any more than she did. At times such as these she ached for her old life with a ferociousness that left her feeling sick.
“This is Playboy,” she said into the silence. Well, as silent as a horse stable could be. In the background a horse nickered. Chickens ran wild. Off in the distance you could hear the sound of cars from the nearby interstate.
“Nice-looking horse.”
It smelled at the Lazy A Ranch, too. Not like pine shavings and saddle soap like her old place. No. More like horse poop and wet dirt. The other owners weren’t as good at mucking stalls as she was. As she and Laney were. She glanced over at the young teen, sure she was listening to every word.
“I bought him at the Bull and Gelding Sale last year. The one up in Red Bluff.”
He moved close enough that he could place a hand on Playboy’s neck. She saw it then—kindness filled his eyes as he leaned toward the horse. It took her by surprise, that look. It reminded her of her friend, Jillian, when she “spoke” to animals.
“Is he cutting bred?”
Colt’s gaze lightened as sunlight angled beneath his cowboy hat and caught his eyes. Hazel. The kind that turned green, gold or brown depending on his mood. He had the square-shaped face of a comic-book hero and the muscular build of a navy SEAL. Something about him commanded attention and she couldn’t figure out if it was his height, his broad shoulders or his piercing eyes. He stepped back, scanning the horse up and down like a used car salesman would a vehicle.
“He is. A kid trained him before me. I figured he must have a pretty good mind if he’d let a little boy break him.”
“What have you done with him?”
She tried not to let her embarrassment show. “Not a whole bunch lately. I was flat on my back for a while, but when I climbed back onto him last month he seemed to remember everything I’d taught him.” She was the one who’d had problems...still had problems. Balance. Vision. Equilibrium.
“And you tried to ride him without a bridle?”
His look seemed to say it all. And, okay, maybe it hadn’t been one of her best ideas.
“Before my accident I was riding him every day,” she said in her own defense. “He was listening to vocal commands and everything, but when I took his bridle off, he seemed to forget everything.”
“Let me guess.” A small smile came to his face. “Runaway pony.”
“Something like that.”
She hoped he didn’t see the momentary flare of remembered panic that came to her eyes. She thought he hadn’t, but then, just as quickly as it’d arrived, his grin faded away.
“How’d you get him stopped?”
“I had a friend in the arena with me.”
He crossed his arms. He wore the same black outfit as before, right down to the hat, and she wondered if he’d come straight from a rodeo performance. It was the weekend and late enough in the afternoon that she supposed it was possible.
“You mind me asking why you picked reining? Surely Western pleasure would be better?”
