Falling For A Cowboy

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“I might take Harley around once,” Amberley said slowly, hardly believing the words as she spoke them. “If you will, too. What’s your name?”

The little girl bowed a head of what looked like blond curls. “Fran.”

“Alright, Fran. If I walk Harley around, do you think you might try for me?”

“Okay.”

A moment later, she guided Harley into the corral, surprised at his lack of hesitation. He stepped forward, sure-footed and eager. In fact, she’d never sensed him this excited, not even before a barrel race.

Was he showing off for the kids?

“Here you go.” With an oomph, Benny hefted Harley’s saddle over her horse’s back. She didn’t need her eyesight for this, she mused, while her fingers flew nimbly, fastening and cinching out of habit. A budding light of confidence flickered inside.

With a boost from Benny, she swung her leg around Harley, and her lips twitched up in an unstoppable smile. Settling back in the saddle felt good. Like coming home.

“Fran? Kids? You ready?”

“Yes!” they chorused.

“I’ll lead you around,” her mother called from below, but Amberley shook her head. She could manage this small-sized corral, and she’d discern the fence in time to avoid it.

Most important, at least for today, she wanted to imagine that she could ride Harley on her own. She owed it to her horse, to injured, shorthanded Joan, and to her mother, who needed to stop fussing and get her life back.

Maybe, in this insular little world, Amberley could pretend she had a purpose after all.

Chapter Four (#u2657647f-54b3-5eb5-a2c4-5fdb59e4a466)

SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN Jared’s jaw as he rode his eleven-year-old quarter horse, Chance, behind a herd of ambling longhorns. Petey, a stray who’d become one of the ranch’s top work dogs, loped along. Overhead, a vast blue sky arched above craggy mountaintops. The musky smells of livestock and leather mingled with the sweet pine of the tree breaks in the clear, dry air.

Nothing invigorated him like riding in high open spaces, he thought, chest expanding in a deep breath. Well, nothing except winning under the big lights and watching Amberley’s eyes light up in a smile.

He tamped down thoughts of his best friend. Amberley wanted nothing to do with him. Last week, she swore she didn’t need his help, and her rejection stung, leaving a rawness inside that hurt anytime his mind turned her way.

How was she?

Had her vision worsened?

Picturing her holed up in her house, giving up, bothered him to no end. It killed him to think of his gutsy, fearless pal that way. She’d never been a quitter and had succeeded in everything she’d done. Not a day passed without him staring down at his phone, willing himself not to call.

To leave her be.

He was a man of his word.

With a slight tug of the reins, he guided his sleek gray stallion around a depression in the field and clamped his teeth. But it made no lick of sense for her to walk away from their friendship. She meant a heck of a lot to him, and he’d thought that went for her, too.

Guess he’d been wrong.

Or she was just being stubborn.

His money was on his second guess, but how to know for certain?

Don’t interfere with something that ain’t botherin’ you none, his pa always said.

But it did. Maybe too much.

Enough.

He swayed slightly in the saddle and forced his mind on the day’s tasks. His gaze traveled over the brown-and-white-spotted cattle, checking for stragglers. Black-and-white herding dogs prowled on the edge of the lowing, bleating group, working seamlessly with him and his siblings as they drove the cows and their offspring toward the day’s pasture on the western edge of Laurel Canyon.

As a grass-fed, organic beef operation that guaranteed humane treatment of its animals, Cade Ranch avoided artificial fertilizers and pesticides. Instead, they moved their cows daily on a two-week rotation system that allowed the land time to recover between grazing periods. The labor-intensive work entailed traveling on horseback instead of ATVs to keep the cattle relaxed and used to their presence. The natural, chemical-free environment, begun by his father shortly before his passing eleven years ago, was good for the herd and for the business. They commanded top dollar on the beef market.

He sure wished his personal life was that successful.

Life had gone his way before his ACL injury and now this roadblock with Amberley. He’d made grudging peace with giving up professional football, his lifelong dream. But how long before he’d let his longtime friend go?

His nonstop thoughts of her suggested no time soon.

When a couple of longhorns halted and dipped their heads to a grassy spot, he squeezed Chance’s side, trotting closer. He pursed his lips, but Petey rushed forward before he whistled, anticipating human directives in his uncanny way. Jared yanked off his hat and waved it in front of his flushed face as Petey’s lunges got the cows hoofing again. The heated air barely stirred the hair plastered to his forehead.

He had a date tonight with a new gal. A pretty little thing. Sweet and friendly and easygoing. Uncomplicated—just the way he preferred. And she liked daisies, he recalled. She’d told him so when he’d complimented her flower hair clip at last night’s county fair. As for her name, he struggled to recall it since they’d spoken only briefly at her busy 4-H fair booth.

Laureen.

He shook his head, shooed away a nagging fly and settled his hat back on, pulling the brim low against the sun.

Loranne.

No. Still not right.

Laurie-Anne.

Aw. Shoot. He’d have to ask his little sister, Jewel, who loved giving him grief about his pathetic (her words) dating life. But seeing as the only male in Jewel’s life was her black stallion, Bear, Jared didn’t put much stock in her opinion. He’d never had any trouble with women except keeping their names straight from time to time, and now Amberley freezing him out.

But Amberley wasn’t just a woman. Well. Not the dating kind. Sure, when he’d first spotted her at a local junior rodeo, he’d wanted to ask her out. He’d never seen a prettier girl. Astride a mount that looked too big for her dainty frame, thick, honey-blond hair swinging beneath a black cowboy hat, eyes so blue a boy could drown in them, he’d frozen in his boots, sure he’d glimpsed an angel. Her white teeth flashed when her rosy lips parted in a smile at the fawning crowd of young men. Then her gaze tangled with his and she’d rolled her eyes, ever so slightly, a comical gesture, a private communication, that began a connection that’d strengthened through the years.

Until now.

His personal life wasn’t much without her in it. As for his professional life—he stifled a yawn—it wasn’t exactly fulfilling these days either. Chance’s head bobbed up and down as he wove in between the cattle with Petey sticking close, checking individual cows for signs of fatigue or distress.

Once he’d imagined his destiny the way his father described it: cheers, trophies and records, a hero’s life, not this sedate ranch work punctuated by local wins at rodeo or pool competitions. He needed more, something to divert his attention longer than another evening with the latest gal to catch his eye. What that was, though...well...he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d gone so long seeing his life, his future, through his father’s eyes, he couldn’t envision it on his own.

If you’re not makin’ dust you’re eatin’ it.

Ever since returning to sleepy Carbondale for good, he’d battled a constant choking sensation. Seemed his old life wasn’t as easy to swallow anymore.

The returning shadows cast by a cluster of ponderosa pines suggested they’d passed lunch without a break, a fact confirmed by his rumbling stomach. They’d been laboring since dawn, ahead of the heat that now made his plaid shirt cling to his sore muscles and his thighs chafe beneath leather-chaps-covered jeans. Even his toes, crammed inside dirt-splattered boots, slid against each other.

He could sure use a drink right about now.

A whistle cracked through the air. He craned his head and spotted his brother James riding up with a three-month-old straggler secured across the front of his saddle. James pointed at a young heifer that’d wandered from the herd, shaking its head. Peering closer, Jared spied its leaking eye. He reached for the rope coiled at his side.

Pink eye.

They’d need to doctor it on the range before the infectious condition spread. He freed his rope and circled it as he closed in on the wayward steer.

Suddenly the calf spooked and bolted for a tree line fifty odd yards away. If it broke through there, it might tumble into the ravine on the other side and break its neck.

“Yee-haw!” hollered a familiar, blood-thirsty voice. He caught sight of his little sister, Jewel, streaking by atop Bear, her lariat lassoing above her Stetson.

He kicked Chance and galloped after her, clods of dirt spewing behind them as they thundered after the panicked cow. They didn’t need to exchange a word or a look to execute this familiar roping routine.

Giving Chance his head, his trained heel horse flashed past the young cow before pivoting to block its escape into the trees. Rope snaked through the air, and the lariat’s noose dropped neatly over the heifer’s head, checking its flight.

Jewel rode closer, the line held fast in her fist, her slim, freckled face set, dark eyes flashing beneath the wide brim of her hat.

He whistled under his breath. Jewel was greased lightning with a lariat. He’d expect nothing less of his talented little sis, who could, despite her size, outride, outshoot and outdo any of the Cade boys. She was headstrong and full of grit, and it had never occurred to his brothers to give her breaks for being “a girl.” To be honest, they were all a little bit afraid of her and her shoulder jab that kept them in line.

Most of the time.

The heifer wheeled, straining against the rope, while James continued circling his cord, waiting for the balking animal to settle enough for him to snare its hindquarters. Trying to shake Jewel’s rope, it swung its head, then spread its front legs, bracing and pulling. Getting nowhere, it raced back to the herd, then jerked to a halt at the end of the tether.

Jared advanced a couple of paces, then stopped, patient, steady, holding himself and Chance still, save for his circling rope. The blowing yearling dropped its head. A tense minute went by while Petey expertly hemmed in the animal, wearing it down without stressing it. Then, without warning, it reared up and kicked out its back legs.

Bingo.

Jared tossed his loop neatly around the calf’s hindquarters and lowered the lariat’s bottom edge to the ground, keeping it loose and flexible. His breath lodged in his throat as he waited, willing it not to slide off before he could cinch it around the animal’s girth. Petey charged the yearling so that it stepped back, straight through the noose.

“Got it!” whooped Jewel.

In a flash, he pulled, tightening the loop around the runaway’s belly. Jewel secured her line to her saddle and hopped off Bear, the jerking, straining yearling trapped between their ropes. In the grass, Petey sat on his haunches, his mismatched eyes intent, oversize ears pricked forward as he assessed the unfolding situation, eager as always to help the humans who’d once rescued him.

Jewel crept forward, a tie-down rope clamped between her teeth. Her horse, trained like all the ranch’s mounts, backed up a couple of steps to keep the line taut and the calf from thrashing. One kick could bust a kneecap or knock loose teeth, not to mention the risk of the animal injuring itself. Grabbing hold of the heifer’s head, Jewel expertly worked Jared’s rope over its hips and down with her other hand.

He wheeled Chance so that the loop slid to their quarry’s ankles. Then he jerked the rope, knocking it off its feet. It flopped into the soft, deep grass.

“Hold!” Jewel hollered. He circled Chance back and watched his sweating, straining sister tie up the heifer’s front legs, trussing the winded animal in a blur of movement. Then she hopped back on Bear and they walked their horses toward one another, slackening the ropes to give the straining calf more breathing room. It lifted its head, struggled to get back on its feet, then sank down again.

James trotted up, unbuckled his saddlebag and passed them eyewash. His dark eyebrows met over his nose. “Anyone seen Justin?”

A yowl rang out, answering that question. Their reckless younger brother, Jesse’s twin, raced by after a breakaway calf. Jared’s heart stopped at its proximity to the tree line and ravine. Riding that fast, Justin might not stop in time to avoid a fatal plunge.

At the last possible moment, Justin launched himself from the saddle and tackled the animal, wrestling it to the ground in a tangle of limbs, hooves and feet. A cloud of dust and grass rose. In two wraps and a hooey, he bound three of the heifer’s legs while his pinto circled back.

James swore a blue streak. “Someday he’ll kill himself.” He kicked his mount and joined their daredevil sibling.

“That’s the plan,” Jewel muttered, dropping to her knees beside their four-legged patient.

Jared joined her and ripped off the eyewash cannula’s wrapping. “He hasn’t been the same since Jesse.”

Jewel held the calf’s head as he flushed its red-rimmed eye. “It’s as if he’s daring death to take him like it did Jesse.”

“Justin loves playing the odds.” Using a sterile cloth, he carefully wiped the discharge from around the heifer’s eye.

“Playing a fool more like,” Jewel huffed. “Next time we hog-tie him.”

Their shared chuckle died off quickly. Justin wasn’t the only Cade affected by Jesse’s murder these past two and a half years. Jack, their oldest brother, had left home, became a bounty hunter and returned only once he’d captured Jesse’s killers. James, second oldest and ranch manager, had turned their operation into a fortress, determined to keep out the kinds of outsiders who’d taken their brother. Of course, all that changed once Sofia Gallardo, Jesse’s ex and mother of Jesse’s five-year-old son, Javi, showed up at the door and stole James’s heart.