FOREVER HIS VALENTINE

It may be the most romantic time of the year, but Valentine’s Day just brings up bad memories for Nate Truett. Because on that day six years ago, Ronnie Hartman turned down his marriage proposal and broke his heart. Ever since, he’s avoided the holiday—and her—completely. Now he’s returned to Mustang Valley, Arizona, for one last chance to set things right.

Ronnie hasn’t forgotten that awful day, or why she turned down Nate’s proposal, but six years is a long time. Seeing how easily the former bull rider fits back into her life is...interesting. As he is welcomed with open arms by her family, Ronnie realizes one thing. Whatever his reasons for coming back, she can’t avoid him, or the past, anymore...

“You could have called.”

He laughed out loud. “When? Before I hit town? You can’t possibly be referring to six years ago. I called you plenty after you walked out on me. Remember? You didn’t answer. Not once.”

She stiffened. “Why are you really here, Nate? And I want the truth.”

“Relax, will you? I’m just helping out a family friend. Nothing more.”

“Fine.”

She appeared unconvinced. Then again, he didn’t believe himself, either.

Concern for Samantha might have been the reason he’d initially agreed to his mother’s request. But now that he’d arrived in Mustang Valley, he was suddenly determined to find out what he’d done to Ronnie that was so terribly wrong.

She wasn’t the entire reason his life had gone from bad to worse to rock bottom, but losing her had surely launched his downward spiral.

Dear Reader,

Some years ago, I lived not far from a Western saloon and restaurant with a small rodeo arena built behind it. The saloon’s bull-riding events were a popular weekend attraction, and people would come from hundreds of miles away to both watch and participate. Now, bull riding isn’t a sport I would ever attempt, even on an amateur level. I do, however, enjoy watching it—and always cringe when the cowboys are thrown.

I had it in the back of my mind for a long, long time to write a book that included a version of this saloon and restaurant with it’s locally famous bull-riding events. The chance finally came with The Bull Rider’s Valentine—my first-ever book with a Valentine’s Day element. Nate Truett, a down-on-his-luck cowboy, lands a job as bull-riding manager. His former girlfriend (and love of his life) happens to be in charge of the barrel-racing events. She’s also the one who walked out on him six years ago after his botched Valentine’s Day proposal.

Ronnie is the last single Hartman sister to find her happily-ever-after. For me, taking her and Nate from hearts broken to hearts healed was a rewarding journey. Thank you for sharing the ride with us.

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

Facebook.com/CathyMcDavidBooks

@CathyMcDavid

CathyMcDavid.com

The Bull Rider’s

Valentine

Cathy Mcdavid

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Since 2006, New York Times bestselling author CATHY MCDAVID has been happily penning contemporary Westerns for Mills & Boon. Every day, she gets to write about handsome cowboys riding the range or busting a bronc. It’s a tough job, but she’s willing to make the sacrifice. Cathy shares her Arizona home with her own real-life sweetheart and a trio of odd pets. Her grown twins have left to embark on lives of their own, and she couldn’t be prouder of their accomplishments.

To Pamela, Libby, Connie and Marina.

You not only challenge me to better my writing with

your thoughtful and insightful critiques,

you are my dearest friends.

Your love and support are gifts I truly cherish.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear_Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Nate Truett leaned a shoulder against the knotty pine column, drew in a long breath and braced himself for the sight of Ronnie Hartman. He didn’t wait long before she emerged from behind a tall paint gelding.

At that moment, two full days of mental preparation promptly deserted him. Nate’s heart began to hammer inside his chest. Sweat broke out across his skin, defying the chilly temperature and the heavy canvas jacket he wore. A roaring in his ears drowned out all sound.

He dragged the back of his hand across his damp forehead, wondering what the heck was wrong with him. Ask any of his friends, and they’d say Nate possessed nerves of steel. No one made their living riding eighteen hundred pounds of angry bull into rodeo arenas without them.

Yet where were those nerves of steel now? Weakened, apparently, by the mere sight of an old girlfriend.

The realization that Ronnie still affected him to such a degree was annoying, to say the least. He’d been trying for six years to put his feelings for her where they belonged—in the past.

He’d obviously failed, and miserably at that, as his hammering heart and cold sweat proved.

Pushing back his cowboy hat, he watched Ronnie’s every move. She hadn’t changed one bit since they’d last seen each other. Still girl-next-door pretty, still wearing her long blond hair in a thick ponytail down her back and still wearing faded red Cardinals hoodies. Next to professional rodeoing, football was her favorite sport.

He swallowed and then groaned softly. Maybe coming to Mustang Valley and agreeing to help his mom’s best friend had been a mistake. He considered reversing direction and slinking unnoticed back to where he’d parked his truck in front of the horse stables, but dismissed the idea. He’d made a promise to his mom’s friend to check on her daughter, and he would keep that promise no matter how difficult it might be for him.

In another minute. Or two. When he was ready.

Ronnie and her half sister, Samantha, stood beside the paint gelding, which was tethered to an old hitching post. From their gesturing and raised voices, he gathered they were discussing the horse’s condition. No surprise. Big John, as Samantha called him, was part of the reason Nate had been asked to make a detour on his trip across Arizona. His mom’s friend was worried sick about her oldest, all alone for the first time in her eighteen years.

Learning that Samantha was related to Ronnie had come as a shock to Nate. He’d known Samantha since she was a kid and also that she was adopted. There was never a mention of her seeking out her biological family, which she’d done after graduating high school. It must have come as a bigger shock to Ronnie, who until recently had no idea Samantha existed. Or that her father had a child with his then girlfriend and didn’t tell anyone.

Nate wondered how Ronnie was coping in the wake of the bombshell news but doubted she’d tell him. He’d be lucky if she discussed even the weather with him. Ronnie was an expert at erecting emotional barricades and didn’t easily take them down. Nate had learned that firsthand the hard way.

All at once, Samantha unleashed her teenage fury on Ronnie, shouting, “You don’t care about me! You’ve never cared! You just want me to win using your horse so you can sell him for a lot of money!” She ended her outburst with a sob. When Ronnie attempted to put an arm around Samantha, she jerked away. “Leave me alone.”

Nate straightened but didn’t otherwise move. Samantha could be a bit of a drama queen—even before learning the man who’d raised her wasn’t her real father. But when the loud wails continued, he hurried down the ranch office steps and toward the pair. No way was he letting anxiety over his past relationship with Ronnie, or the fact she was Samantha’s half sister, interfere with the purpose of his visit—namely, seeing how Samantha was doing and lending assistance if needed.

He’d almost reached the pair when Ronnie abruptly pivoted and caught sight of him. Surprise sparked in her vivid green eyes, followed by alarm. Both emotions dimmed as she visibly gained control.

“Nate! What are you doing here?”

Really? No “Hello” or “Hi” or “How are you?” He couldn’t let that slide. Flashing the same wide grin that had at one time been plastered on billboards and the cover of Pro Rodeo Sports News, he said, “Nice to see you, too, Ronnie.”

Whatever she intended to say was cut short by Samantha, who whirled and exclaimed, “Nate, you came!” before rushing forward to give him a hug. “I’m so glad. Mom said you might, but she wasn’t sure.”

Nate grabbed the teenager before she knocked him over. “Hey there, Sammy-cakes.” Giving her a brotherly squeeze, he set her aside.

Ronnie stared at him, her expression unyielding and her arms crossed. Not that he’d expected a warm welcome, considering she’d walked out on him without so much as a “See ya later.”

Still, they’d been close once. Close enough to live together, suffer through an unbearable loss and for Nate to propose.

He’d planned the entire Valentine’s Day dinner, right down to the ring and the moment he’d pop the question over dessert. Her rejection had stunned him. Not as much, however, as coming home two days later to discover her gone, along with all her clothes and possessions.

Happy freakin’ Valentine’s Day to him.

“Wait, wait.” Ronnie drew back, her narrowed gaze traveling from Nate to Samantha. “What is happening here?”

Nate sighed. “You didn’t tell her I was coming?”

“Well... I...got busy...” Samantha faltered. “And forgot.”

“You two are friends?” Ronnie asked, clearly mystified.

“My mom and Nate’s are best friends from when we lived in Abilene.” Samantha lifted one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug.

“But you’re from Flagstaff.” Ronnie spoke slowly.

“We just moved there last year.”

“Small world, huh?” Nate hadn’t often enjoyed the upper hand with Ronnie and, to be honest, he kind of liked it.

“Very small.”

“Well, you were only in Abilene a year. And we were traveling almost every weekend. You never got a chance to meet Mom’s friends.”

Samantha stared curiously at Ronnie and Nate. “So, I’m guessing you two are more than just rodeo acquaintances. That’s what Mom said.”

Nate waited for Ronnie to admit they’d dated for three years and lived together for one.

After a long, uncomfortable pause, she said, “Nate and I met when we were both competing on the circuit.”

That was it? No details?

“Of course.” Samantha’s wide smile said she wasn’t buying the vague explanation for one second.

“Of course,” Nate repeated, remembering the first time he’d seen her.

It had been at the New Mexico State Fair. He’d been competing professionally for almost two years while Ronnie was a newcomer. He’d asked her out three times over the next three rodeos before she finally accepted. After that, they were rarely apart.

Ronnie must have been remembering, too, for she shifted nervously and changed the subject. “What are you doing in Mustang Valley?”

“I stopped on my way to Houston.” He, too, was purposefully vague. Let her think what she would. He didn’t owe her or anyone an explanation. “Sam’s mom said she was upset about her horse. Mom thought I could help and asked me to stop. Lend some support.”

“I see.” Ronnie faced Samantha. “You really should have told me Nate was coming.”

“Like I said, I didn’t know for sure.”

Nate doubted her but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he asked, “What’s going on with Big John?”

“I think he’s perfectly fine to compete this weekend. Ronnie says no.”

“Has he fully healed?”

“Yes,” Samantha blurted at the same time Ronnie said, “No.”

Nate knew that four months ago the horse had suffered a torn ligament and been sidelined for what was supposed to be the rest of the year. Naturally, Samantha had been devastated.

“What does Mel say? She’s the medical expert.” Deferring to Ronnie’s older sister, who was also the small town’s sole veterinarian, made sense.

“She agrees with me that competing on him right now is risky.” Ronnie studied the horse, whose quiet patience and idly swishing tail belied his winning speed and agility in the arena. “He still exhibits tenderness in the affected area.”

“He’s ready,” Samantha insisted. “I ran him three times earlier today. His time was almost as fast as before.”

Ronnie went slack-jawed. “You ran him and didn’t tell me?”

“You were busy.”

“He might have reinjured that leg.” She didn’t hold back and returned Samantha’s earlier fury. “Are you crazy?”

“He’s my horse.”

“He could be your lame-for-life horse.”

Samantha started crying again. “What if I don’t qualify for Nationals?”

“There’s always next year. You only just turned professional this past spring.”

Nate didn’t entirely blame Ronnie for being angry. As a trainer, she cared enormously about the welfare of her horses and those under her care. Also, in this case, she happened to be right. He’d seen more than one horse’s career ruined by pushing for too much too soon.

“You said you’d help me.” Samantha sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“You sure you’re not just panicking?” Nate decided the time had come for him to step in and do what he’d been asked. “There are only two weekends left to compete.”

“I’m not panicking.” Her tone said otherwise. “I have to place in at least one of those rodeos or I’m done for the year.”

“Your mom says you’re doing great on Ronnie’s horse.”

“Not great enough. I need Big John.”

What she probably needed was a confidence boost. Nate had dozens of friends who’d suffered a similar crisis at one point or another in their careers. It was a common enough affliction on the circuit. Never happened to him, however. All his crises had come after he’d retired.

“I have a suggestion. Why don’t you take Ronnie’s horse on a couple of runs? Let me get a firsthand look at the two of you working together.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ronnie said.

Did she just agree with him? Well, knock him sideways with a feather.

“Okay. Be right back.” Samantha left, half running, half jogging to the stables where Nate presumed Ronnie’s horse was kept. Her long blond hair, so much like Ronnie’s, lifted in the wind.

How had he not noticed the resemblance between the two of them years before? It seemed so obvious now. Then again, why would he have? If not for Samantha’s search for her biological father, they’d all still be in the dark.

“What about Big John?” Ronnie called after Samantha.

“I’ll get him later.”

Ronnie could have untied the horse and taken him back to his stall, leaving Nate to fend for himself. But she didn’t. Wasn’t that interesting?

“Alone at last,” he teased.

“Not funny.”

“Come on, I was just as surprised to learn Samantha’s your sister as you were.”

“And what? You wanted to see for yourself?”

“You think I showed up here on purpose? Because I can assure you, the idea was entirely Mom’s. I had no intention of ever setting foot in Mustang Valley again.”

She studied him intently, revealing the barest hint of vulnerability before averting her glance. Why, for crying out loud? She was the one who’d dumped him. And without good reason, he might add. Without any reason.

“You could have called.”

He laughed out loud. “When? Before I hit town? You can’t possibly be referring to six years ago. I called you plenty after you walked out on me. Remember? You didn’t answer. Not once.”

She stiffened. “Why are you really here, Nate? And I want the truth.”

“Relax, will you? I’m just helping out a family friend. Nothing more. Samantha’s like a little cousin to me.”

“Fine.”

She appeared unconvinced. Then again, he didn’t believe himself, either.

Concern for Samantha might have been the reason he’d initially agreed to his mother’s request. But now that he’d arrived in Mustang Valley, he was suddenly determined to find out what he’d done to Ronnie that was so terribly wrong.

She wasn’t the entire reason his life had gone from bad to worse to rock bottom, but losing her had surely launched his downward spiral.

* * *

THE LAST PERSON Ronnie had expected to see today—any day, truth be told—was Nate Truett. Not after she’d left him with no explanation.

He should hate her and probably did. That didn’t stop him from being the one guy she’d struggled to forget and couldn’t. The one who made every man she met pale in comparison.

Now, here he stood, not eighteen inches away from her and wearing the same heart-stopping, tummy-fluttering smile that had caused her to fall for him in the first place.

“What are you thinking?” he asked in the husky drawl that still invaded her dreams.

“Nothing.”

I hurt you badly, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just walked out like that. It was wrong and not what you deserved. But nothing’s changed.

“Sam,” she amended. Safe conversation gave nothing away while ignoring him would reveal too much.

“Sam?”

“You know my dad. Nicknames for all his daughters.”

“I’d forgotten, Rhonda.”

She rolled her eyes, wishing she’d never told him. “Sam has a lot of talent. She can also be stubborn to a fault.”

“I wonder where she gets that?” Nate moved marginally closer.

Ronnie stilled, acutely aware of him. “I’m only stubborn when I’m right.”

“Which, if memory serves, is always.”

“Not true.” Sorrow consumed her. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten.”

“Ronnie.”

She forced herself to stroll casually away, intent on removing herself from his rugged good looks, aw-shucks charm and dancing blue eyes that by all counts should be outlawed. Naturally, he followed her, further weakening her already vulnerable state.

Heaving a soft groan, she reached for the top railing of the arena fence, using it to steady her wobbly knees. If she weren’t careful, Nate might realize her feelings for him weren’t completely extinguished. His ego was already big enough.

At least, it used to be. He did seem a bit more...humble than before, something she found both out of character and intriguing.

“Big John is a valuable horse,” she said, staring off at the distant McDowell Mountains. Anywhere other than at Nate. “I’d hate to see him turned into a kid’s mount because of an injury.”

“I agree. Championship horses cost a lot of money. I doubt Samantha can afford to buy a new one.” He lowered his voice to the range that had always sent a delicious tingle skittering up her spine. “It’s really nice of you to let her borrow your horse.”

She started to tell him more about Sam’s sudden appearance this past summer and how she, Mel and Frankie had been devastated to learn their father had lied to them for nearly two decades. At the last second, she bit her tongue. She and Nate didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore.

“How are your sisters?” he asked. “They were always a hoot and a half.”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“What did Sam’s mom tell you?” She spared him a quick glance.

“That besides starting her own vet practice, Mel got married, and Frankie has twin girls.”

There was actually considerably more, such as Mel being pregnant, Frankie’s new catering business, the recent return of the twins’ father and the sizable amount of money Ronnie’s father had won in the state lottery. She mentioned none of it.

Nate reached for her left hand, sending a sudden zing racing through her system. She clamped her mouth shut before a gasp escaped.

“What are you doing!” she demanded.

“No wedding ring, I see.”

Bristling, she reclaimed her hand. “Sam’s mom skip that part?”

“As a matter of fact, she didn’t.”

“Then why—” She abruptly stopped when he broke into laughter. “You’re such a...” Damn him for flustering her.

“Can’t blame me for trying. You always had the softest skin.”

“How long are you staying in Mustang Valley?”

As intended, her question sobered him. “I’m not sure. A couple days. Possibly longer. It all depends.”

“On what?” Please don’t say me.

“Sam, for starters.”

She resisted asking what else. “I thought you were heading to Houston.”

“There’s no rush.”

The humbleness Ronnie had noticed before returned. Though, on second thought, she decided it might be something else. Embarrassment, possibly? Or secrecy? For whatever reason, Nate was definitely holding back.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

That earned her a lengthy once-over. “Why do you care?”

“I’m not coming over, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

“Darn it.” He feigned disappointment. “Foiled again.”

“Seriously, Nate. There’s the Morning Side Inn.”

For a moment, he appeared as if he might deliver another jab. Instead, his expression changed and he said, “I have my horse trailer. The one with living quarters. I just need to find a place to park it. Hopefully, near wherever I wind up boarding Breeze.”

Ronnie’s determination to remain indifferent instantly dissolved. “You still have Breeze? How old is she now? I figured you might have retired her.”

“She’s twenty-one. And retired, other than pleasure riding. I thought about leaving her at my folks’ place.”

“Except you couldn’t bear to part with her.” Ronnie was admittedly touched.

“We’ve been together a long time.”

Nate had owned the mare since he’d competed on the junior circuit in high school. Besides rising to bull and bronc riding fame, he’d also won multiple steer wrestling championships—all of them on Breeze.

“The Morning Side Inn has stalls to lease,” she offered.

“We’ll see.” Again, his expression changed, as if he were hiding something.

Ronnie had to ask. “Is Sam the only reason you came?”

He hesitated briefly before saying, “It’s enough of a reason.”

His lack of a real answer worried her.

“Are you and Sam close?”

She’d yet to wrap her brain around the incredible coincidence that her half sister was the daughter of his mom’s best friend. She’d met his parents a few times, naturally, just like he’d met her dad and sisters when they’d visited Mustang Valley. But never his mom’s best friend and certainly not Sam.

“Not especially close,” he said. “I’d see her at holiday dinners and birthday parties. But her mom is a good friend to mine. She helped us a lot after Allan passed.”

Ronnie hadn’t known Nate’s brother; he’d died from cystic fibrosis before she and Nate met. But Nate had frequently talked about Allan and the mark both he and his absence had left on Nate’s life.

“Sam and her parents aren’t getting along too well these days,” Ronnie said. “Did your mom mention that, too? According to Sam, it’s because they don’t support her decision to skip college and become a professional barrel racer.”

“They also weren’t crazy about her running off in search of your dad without mentioning a word to them.”

Ronnie hadn’t been crazy about Sam finding their father, either. Not in the beginning. Learning he’d been involved with a younger woman and had a child with her took a lot of getting used to.

“Trust me,” she said. “The news was a shock to all of us.”

“She’s lucky.” For the first time since Ronnie had reclaimed her hand from his, Nate looked at her. “Not all biological families are as accepting as yours.”

“None of what happened was her fault. We weren’t about to hold the mistakes our respective parents made against her.” A thought occurred to Ronnie. “Did your mom know about my dad? Did you?”

“No. We were as surprised as anyone.”

At that moment, Sam emerged from the stables astride Ronnie’s horse, Comanche. The handsome, muscular gelding might not be Sam’s first choice, but no one could deny the pair made an impression as she trotted him toward the arena. One of the ranch hands, who happened to be in the vicinity, opened the gate for her.

Fortunately, no one else was practicing at this time of day. In another six weeks, when school let out for winter break, Powell Ranch would be packed from morning until evening.

“You ready?” Sam hollered from her position at the south end of the arena.

Nate took out his phone and opened the stopwatch app. “All set,” he hollered back.

Sam studied the cloverleaf course while adjusting her weight in the saddle.

“Take your time,” Ronnie muttered under her breath. “Don’t rush.”

Comanche stared straight ahead, nervously prancing in place. He knew his job and was eagerly awaiting the signal from Sam. The next second, she gave it. Trotting him in a tight circle, she suddenly spurred him into a full-speed-ahead gallop and made for the first barrel.

Ronnie glanced briefly at Nate to confirm what she already knew—that he was timing Sam’s run.

How often had he done the same for her when she’d been practicing? She couldn’t begin to count. During the years they’d been together, he’d supported her tirelessly and without fail.

Until the day she’d miscarried and their world had changed.

Her fault. Entirely. He’d tried hard to make things right by proposing two months later on Valentine’s Day. In her mind, she saw the small, red velvet box and the glittering heart-shaped diamond ring. So very pretty. She’d needed all her willpower to tell him no.

As one would expect, he’d been crushed and unable to accept that their relationship was too broken to fix. But Ronnie had, and two days later, she’d left him and the place they’d shared in Abilene behind, convinced a quick and clean parting was best for both of them.

Sadly, she’d been mistaken. Those dozens of voice mail messages he’d left had been filled with pain and anguish. And for months afterward, mutual friends had had nothing good to report, saying Nate had stopped competing, dropped out of sight and broken the terms of multiple endorsement contracts. By the following year, their mutual friends had had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.

Ronnie had tried telling herself the same thing would have happened regardless of how delicately she’d handled the breakup. Sometimes, she almost believed it. Mostly, she regretted her actions. Nate had done nothing wrong, was, in fact, a great boyfriend and had been deserving of far more from her. She’d been the one consumed by grief and guilt. The one who’d wanted out.

“Whoo-hoo!” Sam gave a loud hoot as she rounded the last barrel and galloped for the finish line.

Head stretched out and tail flying, the Comanche ran for all he was worth. Crossing the finish line, Sam slowed the horse as they passed through the gate, then brought him back around.

Ronnie didn’t have to wait for Nate’s announcement. Instinct, honed from years of competing, followed by years of teaching, told her Sam’s time was in the money.

“Sixteen-point-three-six seconds.” He showed her the phone. “Not bad for a pattern this size.”

“From what Sam has told me, that’s very close to Big John’s time pre-injury.”

“Meaning she can do as well on Comanche as Big John.”

Ronnie pushed off the arena fence. “If she wants. Which she doesn’t.”

“Put yourself in her shoes. What was it like when you competed on a horse that wasn’t yours? It can be intimidating.”

Before Ronnie could respond, Sam trotted over, Comanche’s sides continuing to heave from his exertion. With nimble ease, she jumped off, the reins loosely clutched between her fingers. “How’d we do?”

Nate told her.

She frowned. “Better than I thought.”

“Then why are you mad?”

“I’m not.”

Except, she was. If Ronnie were to guess, she’d say the horse’s more than decent performance hadn’t bolstered Sam’s argument that she needed Big John in order to qualify for Nationals.

Nate pocketed his phone. “You were a little slow changing leads on that last barrel.”

Ronnie had also noticed the lag but refrained from commenting. She and Sam regularly engaged in this same argument. Sam always blamed the horse and did again today.

“It’s not my fault. I have to cue him twice before he changes leads.”

“Maybe you need to practice more. The partnership between horse and rider doesn’t happen overnight. It can take months, years even, to perfect.”

Something else Ronnie had tried to tell Sam, without much success.

“You’re right.” The teenager flashed Nate an apologetic smile. “I can’t help getting impatient.”

What? Ronnie blinked. Had Sam really just agreed with Nate when all she ever did with Ronnie was fight? Increasingly so these last weeks as the competitive season drew nearer and nearer to an end.

“Will you stay the next two weeks and help me?” She grabbed Nate’s arm with her free hand. “Please. I know I can qualify with you coaching me.”

Coaching her? Wasn’t that Ronnie’s job?

She coughed and cleared her throat. “I think Nate’s on his way to Houston.”

“That can wait.” He sent her a look that probably wasn’t dismissive but felt that way nonetheless.

“Yes.” Sam’s face exploded in a huge smile. “I’m so happy.”

Not Ronnie. “We wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you,” she said dryly.

“No inconvenience. I’ll juggle my schedule.”

If only she could do the same and leave town for the next two weeks. Unfortunately, obligations to her family, her barrel racing business and her students kept her rooted in Mustang Valley for the foreseeable future.

A future that, temporarily at least, now included Nate Truett.

Chapter Two

“Where’s the rodeo this weekend?” Nate asked. He led Breeze while Samantha—he supposed he should get used to calling her Sam—walked beside him. They’d been circling the grounds for the last fifteen minutes, letting the old mare stretch her legs a bit before returning her to the trailer.

“Kingman. The Annual Andy Devine Days. We need to be on the road no later than 6:00 a.m. Friday morning.”

That gave him the rest of today, plus Wednesday and Thursday, to find a place to park his trailer and earn some quick cash.

“I like Kingman. Those were the days...”

“Was that where you earned your first championship?” she asked.

“Hardly. But I did win my first buckle there. In steer wrestling.”

“Not bull riding?”

“If I recall correctly, I came in dead last.”

“No way!”

“It’s true.” He’d been all of eighteen and, just like Sam, brand new to professional rodeoing. “I lasted a whopping one-point-two seconds before T-Rex dumped me face-first into the dirt.”

“You remember the bull’s name?”

“He made an impression.”

The truth was, Nate had been scared witless when T-Rex executed an abrupt one-eighty and charged. It was without doubt the quickest he’d ever scrambled to his feet and scaled the fence. The small scar on his left shin was a constant reminder of just how close the bull’s hoof had come to slicing his leg open.

“We’ll probably take Ronnie’s truck and trailer to Kingman,” Sam said. “Is that okay with you? There’s enough room for all of us to bunk in the camper.”

“I’ll get a hotel room.” Not that he had much money for a hotel. Unless his luck changed.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Sure that Ronnie wouldn’t bunk in the same camper with him even if her life depended on it.

He and Sam turned the corner of the horse barn, trading late October sunshine for chilly shade. Ronnie hadn’t come with them. She’d made some excuse about returning a phone call and hightailed it to the ranch office. From the look on Ronnie’s face when he’d accepted Sam’s invitation to stay, she needed some alone time to process this unexpected development.

Not nice of him, for sure. He really should have called ahead and given her fair warning. Only, deep down, a small part of him still resented her for rejecting his proposal, and for her brutal handling of their breakup—which must mean an equally small part of him still cared for her. Not that he’d admit as much, to her or anyone else.

At his truck, Sam held Breeze’s lead rope while Nate lowered the trailer’s rear gate. With very little prodding, the old brown mare meandered in and waited for Nate to secure her lead rope to the metal ring.

“Are there any cheap places in the area I can park my trailer? Preferably one that rents spaces by the day or week.”

“Why not stay at Ronnie’s?” Sam offered. “She has room. There’s just her now that Mel moved out. And since you two already know each other—”

“Room for what?”

Nate and Sam both turned at the sound of Ronnie’s voice. “Nothing,” he said, hoping Sam took the hint and kept quiet.

She didn’t. “Can Nate park his truck and trailer at your house?”

“Um...ah...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nate let Ronnie off the hook with a casual wave. “I’ll find something. Besides, I need a place for Breeze, too.”

“She has an empty stall,” Sam persisted.

Ronnie shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my house, and I get to decide who stays. Not you.”

“You’re saying no just because I asked,” Sam complained, clearly not liking that her idea was being shot down. “And because I want to use Big John instead of your horse.”

“Trust me, those aren’t the reasons.”

“Then what is?”

“Sam, drop it.” Nate put just enough bite in his voice to get her attention. “I won’t be the cause of a problem between you and your sister. If that’s the case, I’ll leave.”

Sam clamped her jaw shut and rolled her eyes. “She’s impossible. I can’t do anything right, lately.”

“Not the time or place,” Ronnie warned.

“Fine. I’ll ask Frankie.” Sam pulled her cell phone from her pocket and tapped in a number before Ronnie could object. “I’m staying with her, anyway, and she has room for another horse.”

Nate tried again to stop her. “It’s okay. Really. I’ll find a place.”

She was too busy making the call to listen.

“Sorry about this.” He smiled apologetically at Ronnie while Sam waited for the eldest Hartman sister to answer.

“On the off chance Frankie agrees, I’d appreciate it if you decline.”

For no reason Nate could come up with, Ronnie’s request irked him. “I’m not trying to make trouble for you.”

“And, yet, you are.”

“Hi, Frankie,” Sam chirped. “Sorry to bother you at work.” Nate and Ronnie exchanged glances while Sam made her plea. “I promise, it would only be for a couple of days. A week at the most.”

“Tell her I’ll pay rent.” And Nate would, the moment he found work.

Emotion sparked in Ronnie’s eyes, but she said nothing. Rather, she stepped up onto the trailer’s running board, reached inside and began petting Breeze. The old horse snorted and closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the head scratching.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Ronnie cooed.

Nate’s anger faded. Ronnie had once doted on Breeze almost as much as he did.

“Sure. Of course.” Sam’s gaze cut to Nate. “I will. Thanks.” She disconnected. “Frankie says you and she can talk about it when you get there.”

“Great.” Not a yes exactly. Then again, not a no. With limited options, he decided he’d agree to whatever terms Frankie named, within reason.

Ronnie huffed in disgust.

“I could ride back with you,” Sam suggested. “Save Ronnie from having to drive me.”

“Sure.”

“Can we take Big John, too? Since I won’t be riding him at Kingman this weekend, might as well take him home.” The last part included a not-so-subtle jab directed at Ronnie.

“Let’s load up, then. It’s getting close to dinnertime. I don’t want to interfere with Frankie’s schedule.”

Ronnie hopped down from the running board. “What about practice tomorrow?” Her voice was strained, but civil.

“I’m taking the twins to preschool, and then helping Mel until two. She needs some lab tests dropped off at FedEx.”

Nate’s mom had mentioned something about Sam working for her sisters in exchange for room and board and Big John’s vet care. Again, he reflected on how lucky the teenager was to have such a willing and welcoming biological family, bickering with Ronnie aside.

“There are only a few days left before we leave,” Ronnie said. “You can’t afford to miss any practice.”

“I get it.” Sam’s tone was sharp. “I’ll be here. Two thirty.”

“All right.” Ronnie started to leave, then paused to look at Nate. “Both of you, I’m assuming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He slung a brotherly arm around Sam’s shoulders, hoping to incite a rise from Ronnie.

He got it. She sucked in a harsh breath before pivoting on her heel.

Sam watched her go. “She can be pretty uptight sometimes.”

“She always was.”

“I’m assuming you were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Yeah.” He hadn’t planned on admitting even that much. “How’d you guess?”

“It’s kind of obvious.”

“Hmm. Apparently, I need to try harder.”

“When did you two date?”

“Six years ago.”

“What happened?”

“We drifted apart.” What else was there to say when he had no clue what had prompted Ronnie to pack up and leave with no warning? She’d obviously fallen out of love and fast.

“She doesn’t date,” Sam said. “Not since I’ve been here, anyway.”

“She’s busy. Running a barrel racing school takes a lot of time.”

“Guys ask her. I’ve overheard ’em. And Mel and Frankie are always telling her she needs to get out more.”

Nate believed it. Mustang Valley was nothing if not a cowboy town. In addition to the various horse ranches, there were five sizable cattle ranches in the area and as many more within a thirty-mile radius. A gal as pretty as Ronnie must have her pick of men.

“She’s always telling them no.” Sam followed him to the front compartment where he secured a latch.

“I really don’t care about her social life.”

“But don’t you think it’s strange? I’ve only been living here since the summer, and I’ve gone out with two different guys.”

He paused and gave her a serious look. “Anybody I have to beat up for getting out of line?”

“Will you quit it?” She groaned.

“Come on, we need to hit the road. Where’s Big John?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Not long after that, Big John had been loaded beside Breeze, who’d readily accepted her new traveling companion. Nate carefully navigated the long, winding road from Powell Ranch down the mountainside. Sam sat beside him, chatting up a storm and pointing out some of the local sights. He’d been to Mustang Valley twice before, back in the days when he and Ronnie were together. A lot had changed, however, and he appreciated the update.

Frankie’s house was in one of the new subdivisions on the other side of the valley and, according to Sam, had a mini barn and horse setup. She directed Nate down a side access road where Frankie waited by an open RV gate. She motioned for him to enter and park his trailer in a spot that butted up beside the covered horse stalls.

He took his time, being extra careful not to hit anything. At last satisfied with the trailer’s position, he shut off the engine and exited the cab. Sam did the same. Later, after he and Frankie had a chance to talk, he’d unhitch the truck from his trailer and park it on the street.

“Hi, Frankie.” He considered giving her a hug when she met up with him in front of his truck. At the last second, he reconsidered and reached out his hand. “I really appreciate this.”

She returned his handshake with genuine warmth. “I wish it could be longer, but I can only let you stay until Monday.”

Sam had left that part out. Well, no matter. It was enough he had a place for the next four days.

“Did Sam tell you, I insist on paying rent?”

“She did, and I won’t hear of it. You can help with chores and maybe some repairs.”

“Anything you need.”

The teenager scurried about, unloading Big John first and taking him to his stall.

“In the meantime,” Frankie said, “you’ll find a garden hose and heavy-duty electrical cord in the tack room. It’s unlocked. There’s an outlet over there.” She pointed to the side of the small barn. “And the closest water spigot is by the corral.”

Nate tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“When you’ve finished, come knock on the door. I’ve got supper in the oven, and you can meet my daughters. Spence, too, if he gets home in time.”

“I don’t expect you to feed me.” Though Nate wouldn’t mind. His lunch had consisted of a stale leftover doughnut.

She ignored his protest. “And while we’re eating, you can tell me the real reason you’re here.”

He surprised himself by agreeing. “And maybe in exchange, you can tell me about Ronnie.”

* * *

TWO PAIRS OF EYES, one of them brown and the other one green, stared at Nate from across the kitchen table. Weren’t twins supposed to look alike? Frankie’s two certainly didn’t.

“We’re four,” the smaller one announced and held up the appropriate number of fingers.

“Not yet,” Frankie corrected as she set plates in front of them. “In a couple of weeks.”

The little girl giggled impishly and then, like her sister, dug into her food. Nate did as well, after Frankie had taken her seat. Waiting wasn’t easy.

“This is good.” In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d tasted better meat loaf.

“Mommy caters food,” the smaller girl said around a swallow of milk.

Did the taller one ever talk?

“Is that so?” Nate asked.

“I-Hart-Catering. H-A-R-T. Like our last name.”

“Clever. And congratulations on your new business. Sam raved about it on the drive over here. Said you’re really picking up steam.”

He’d expected the teenager to join them for dinner, only to learn she’d made plans with a friend. Spence, Frankie’s fiancé, and the father of her daughters, was working late at the horse racing farm where he was head trainer. That left just her, the twins and Nate.

The slight discomfort he’d initially felt at being alone with them—not to mention his anxiety about the questions Frankie might pose—had been vanquished by the hospitality she’d shown. Hospitality that included feeding him an incredible home-cooked meal.

“Thanks.” She stopped to reprimand the girls for sneaking their vegetables to the dogs beneath the table. “I only just got I-Hart-Catering off the ground. Time will tell if I can make a go of it.”

He savored a mouthful of superbly seasoned green beans. “With food this good, I don’t see how you can fail.”

“It’s not easy. I’m still working full-time at the café and catering mostly on weekends. That may change if things keep going like they are.”

“Well, good luck to you.”

She gave her head an incredulous shake. “I still can’t believe your mom and Sam’s mom are such good friends. What are the odds?”

“Beyond my limited math skills.”

“I wonder why Ronnie didn’t make the connection when Sam first arrived.”

“Well, they never met. And while I’m sure I mentioned Sam’s mom, I doubt her last name ever came up.”

“Did Sam tell you how she found us?”

“She said your dad won the state lottery earlier this year and she tracked him down online.”

The story was an interesting one, and Frankie recounted it while they ate.

“He split the winnings four ways. It wasn’t a fortune but enough to better all of our lives. I bought this house with my share. Mel acquired her veterinary practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and for their honeymoon. And Ronnie started her barrel racing school. Before that she worked for the Powells, teaching classes and training horses. Because the money was spent before Sam got here, we all pitch in to help cover her rodeo expenses. She, in turn, helps us out as much as she can in exchange for room and board and Big John’s medical costs.”

“Must have been a shock, learning you had a half sister.”

“Quite a shock. But we adapted quickly.” Frankie set her fork down. “All right, not that quickly. But that’s to be expected.”

“Have she and Ronnie always squabbled like they do?”

“Funny you should mention that. No, they haven’t. Just lately. Sam’s really worried she won’t qualify for Nationals, and Ronnie’s trying hard to get her there. That’s probably putting a strain on their relationship.”

Nate thought back on his own rodeo career. In hindsight, he’d never worried much about qualifying. If it happened, great, if not, no big deal. He’d competed strictly for fun. That he’d earned a long list of titles and made decent money by anyone’s standards had often amazed him.

He had his late brother, Allan, to thank. Knowing his life would end prematurely, Allan had instilled Nate with a seize-the-moment attitude, and for many years Nate embraced the philosophy. He’d also reaped the rewards.

But Allan hadn’t lived long enough to learn the higher one flew, the farther they fell, and the more difficult it was for them to recover.

“Maybe the reason Ronnie and Sam bicker is because they’re a lot alike.”

Frankie stared at him as if he’d just solved a difficult scientific equation. “You’re absolutely right. Can’t imagine why that didn’t occur to me before. Those two are peas in a pod.”

The taller twin spoke for the first time. “What’s a pod, Mommy?”

While Frankie explained, the four of them finished their dinner. Afterward, she dispatched the girls to the family room to play.

“Can I help with cleanup?” Nate asked.

“An offer I never turn down.”

Their friendly conversation continued, centering on Ronnie and Nate’s rodeo days and the good memories, of which there were many. During a break, Nate asked Frankie the question that had been bothering him from the moment his mom called and requested he stop in Mustang Valley.

“Do you have any idea why Ronnie took off without even leaving a goodbye note?”

Frankie stopped loading the dishwasher. “You really should talk to her.”

“I tried, believe me. Kind of hard when she wouldn’t return my phone calls. I’m hoping to ask her when the moment’s right.”

“If it makes you feel better, she hardly spoke to any of us after she came back.” Frankie’s expression turned sad. “She took the miscarriage really hard.”

“She wasn’t the only one.”

“Oh, Nate. I’m so sorry. Shame on us for thinking just of Ronnie and not you.”

He’d been surprised by his excitement at the prospect of becoming a father, considering how young he and Ronnie both were and the pregnancy being completely unplanned. He’d figured on having kids in the distant future, not at twenty-four and when his career was just beginning to peak.

“Ronnie really wanted the baby,” Frankie said. “I know that for a fact.”

“Then why did she insist on competing?” It made no sense to him, then or now.

“I can only guess. I know the decision wasn’t easy for her and when things went...wrong, she was devastated.”

Nate had been watching from the arena fence as Ronnie executed her run, his muscles clenching at every tight turn she made around the barrels. He’d gone weak as a pup when, after completing the run, she reined her horse to a stop and climbed off safely.

Then, the unthinkable happened. While she stood watching the remaining competitors and chatting with friends, a runaway horse appeared from out of nowhere and nearly ran her over, causing her to trip and fall.

They’d seen the on-site medic and thought she was fine. But a few hours later, he’d rushed Ronnie to the hospital where she lost the baby.

“I did everything I could to support her,” Nate said, using a trip to the table for dirty dishes to gain control of his emotions.

“I have no doubt.” Frankie finished loading the dishwasher. Closing the door, she leaned her hip against the counter. “She did say your mother was...harsh when expressing her opinion.”

His parents had arrived at the hospital the next morning just before Ronnie was to be released. His mother had been thrilled about the baby and couldn’t wait for the arrival of her first grandchild. But rather than comfort Ronnie, she’d made callous remarks about Ronnie not being ready for motherhood and selfishly putting her needs ahead of those of her child. Nate had walked in a short time later to find Ronnie sobbing.

“My mom did treat Ronnie badly,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t excuse her shutting me out or leaving without a word.”

“Ronnie needed to work things out on her own. She’s been like that since our mom died.”

“Except we both know she hasn’t worked things out.” And, to be honest, neither had Nate. “She’s angry at me for showing up without calling ahead.”

“Is that the real reason you came here? To get an answer for why she broke up with you?”

“I came to check on Samantha.”

“And for closure.”

“I’m over Ronnie,” he insisted.

Frankie pushed off the counter. “Okay. If that’s what you say.”

She didn’t believe him. Then again, she was hardly the only one.

Together they made quick work of the remaining dishes, both of them giving the subject of Ronnie a rest.

When they were done, Nate asked, “Are any ranches in the area hiring? Short-term, if possible. And with weekends off. This weekend, anyway. I’m going to the rodeo with Sam and Ronnie.”

“I don’t know of any. Spence would have a better idea. Though, you could always head into town and stop by the Poco Dinero Bar and Grill. Ranch hands regularly hang out there. Buy one of them a beer and get them talking.”

It was a good idea. “Thanks for the tip,” Nate said. “And for letting me park my truck and trailer. I promise not to get in the way.”

“No problem.”

“Dinner was great.” He checked the time on his phone and grabbed his cowboy hat from where it hung on the back of the chair. “I can see myself out.”

“Breakfast is at six.”

“I’ve got food in the camper.” If a couple cans of pork and beans and a box of granola bars counted as food.

“Come on, Nate. You can meet Spence.”

“We’ll see.”

She didn’t insist, and he headed out the front door to where he’d parked his truck. A drive down the main street quickly brought him to his destination, easy to find from the glowing neon signs in the window and busy parking lot.

What Frankie had predicted was true. Even on a Tuesday, the Poco Dinero boasted a fair-size crowd. Though the small stage—home to whatever band played on the weekend—was empty, a middle-aged couple shuffled across the dance floor, their steps in time to music coming from the jukebox. Small posters on each wall announced the soon to be completed recreational rodeo arena and a website for interested parties to check out the details.

Regulars sat at the polished mahogany bar, swigging their beer or whiskey, exchanging stories and occasionally checking the score of the basketball game playing on the wall-mounted TV. A second couple snuggled in the booth. A group of four men occupied a table and loudly bickered about politics and its effect on the price of cattle.

No one paid Nate much attention until he claimed the only empty stool at the bar.

His neighbor, an elderly gentleman with graying whiskers, turned and offered a friendly greeting. “A bit nippy out there.”

Nate unbuttoned his jacket and slung it over the bar stool before sitting. “You can say that again.”

The bartender, a small, whip-thin gal with the telltale signs of a hard life spent serving drinks either at this bar or one just like it, sidled over to take his order. Fifteen seconds later, a longneck beer was placed before him and money exchanged.

Noticing the older man’s gaze returning to the basketball game, Nate said, “Suns might actually win this one.”

“If their defense doesn’t fall apart in the last five minutes.”

He wore the clothes of a ranch hand but, from his age, Nate figured him to be retired. That didn’t discount him as a source of information. In fact, he might know more than most.

“What brings you to Mustang Valley?” the man asked, lifting a glass tumbler to his lips. His hand visibly shook.

Nate was immediately reminded of his late brother, Allan, though this man almost certainly didn’t suffer from cystic fibrosis. And his brother’s hands had shaken only near the end and when he was especially fatigued. Yet, there was an undeniable similarity. Nate would bet money this man suffered from some health issue.

“A favor for a family friend,” he answered. “But at the moment, I’m looking for work. Have you heard if any of the ranches in the area are hiring? I’m a pretty good cow wrangler. I’m also a decent handyman and have worked construction off and on.”

“Check out The Small Change,” the man offered. “Northeast of town. Ask for the owner, Theo McGraw. He might have an opening for a wrangler or a handyman.”

“Appreciate it.”

By then, the bartender sidled over. “Either of you boys ready for another round?”

Nate shook his head. “I’m good for now.”

The older man raised his glass, the melting ice cubes tinkling from his shaking hand. “When you have a second, Bess.”

“Coming right up, Theo.”

Nate turned and stared at him. “Theo? As in Theo McGraw?”

“This here’s the owner of The Small Change,” Bess said. “Biggest cattle ranch in the valley.”

“I do believe I’ve just been played.” Nate tipped his bottle of beer at Theo, who grinned in return.

“The invitation to drop by still stands.”

The bartender returned with Theo’s drink. As if it were an afterthought, she paused to study Nate. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so.” He was often recognized by people familiar with rodeo. These days, he didn’t supply his name in case someone asked what the hell had happened to his career. He didn’t like admitting it had suffered a slow, painful death.

“Give me a second.” She wagged a finger at him and squinted her eyes.

He attempted to distract her. “I’ve been here before. But it was years ago.”

“Well, I’ll be!” The woman beamed as recognition dawned. “You’re Nate Truett.”

Her announcement also got the attention of several people sitting at the bar, including Theo McGraw.

“The Nate Truett?” he asked.

“World champion bull rider,” Bess said, bursting with pride at her accomplishment.

“Guilty as charged.” Nate wished the bartender didn’t have such a keen memory for faces.

“Did I hear you say you’re looking for a job? Because I might have one.”

“I’d be lying if I said I ever bartended.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Not that. Something else. Something better than a wrangler. Sorry, Theo.” She sent him an apologetic smile.

He laid a hand over his heart. “You wound me, dear lady.”

The woman propped her arms on the bar in front of Nate. “I’ll show you. On my break. Can you wait half an hour?”

“All right.” Nate was intrigued.

Theo, too, judging by his expression.

Suddenly, the front door whooshed open. Along with an unwelcome gust of cold air came three people, huddled and chatting amiably. As the door banged closed behind them, they split apart. To Nate’s amazement, there stood Ronnie.

The next second, she spotted him and her smile instantly died.

Chapter Three

Ronnie didn’t normally swear. A ripe oath, however, slipped past her lips at the sight of Nate sitting alongside Theo McGraw, her father’s boss. Luckily, her clients, the Carringtons, appeared oblivious. Not that she needed to worry. Both were former rodeo competitors and had probably heard a lot worse during their many years on the circuit.

Still, Ronnie preferred to make a good impression. Especially on clients like the Carringtons, whose daughter was one of Ronnie’s students. If all went well, they’d close the deal tonight on Star Shine, a reliable beginner barrel racing horse Ronnie was selling on behalf of a friend. In exchange, she’d receive a small percentage of the final price.

A good deal for all concerned. Star Shine was an excellent match for the Carringtons’ daughter and would serve her well over the next few years. The price was fair, and in return, the horse would be well cared for and doted on by the thirteen-year-old.

Hugh Carrington remained the sole holdout and had suggested they meet at the Poco Dinero to rehash the details. Ronnie had acquiesced. She and the owner, Bess, had recently entered into a business arrangement, and meeting at the honky-tonk made sense. Now, Ronnie wished she’d insisted on a different spot.

“How about that one?” Hugh motioned to an empty table near the bar, which, of course, put them in close proximity to Nate.

Ronnie sighed. Would she get even one break today? Every time she least expected it, Nate was there, insinuating himself into her life. Showing up at the ranch earlier, driving Sam home, parking his trailer at her sister’s house and, now, sitting next to the man who signed her father’s paychecks—both of them a pebble’s toss from her important business meeting.

Hugh pulled out a chair for his wife, Jessica, and the three of them sat. Within seconds, the waitress arrived to take their order, and Ronnie indicated she’d pick up the tab when they were done.

She tried desperately to ignore Nate’s stare, which burned into the side of her face, and focus on the meeting.

“The good thing about a horse like Star Shine,” Ronnie said, “is that she has the ability to progress along with your daughter. You yourselves have even commented on what a good partnership they have while watching them compete together.”

Jessica beamed. “I love her speckled markings.”

Hugh’s gaze wandered to the bar, and his ruddy brow furrowed. “Wait a sec...well, I’ll be. Jessica, honey, look. Isn’t that Nate Truett at the bar?”

She swiveled in her chair. “Oh, my God, you’re right!”

Ronnie was thankful the pair were keeping their voices low enough that Nate couldn’t hear them over the music and noise.

“We’ve met,” Hugh commented. “Several times during my last year on the circuit. He’d just started coming up strong. Not long after that, his career skyrocketed.”

“I remember,” Jessica concurred.

Hugh returned his attention to Ronnie. “Does he live in Mustang Valley?”

“Passing through, I believe.”

“You know him?”

For a wild second, Ronnie debated lying. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “We’re acquainted.”

As if sensing the conversation was about him, Nate glanced their way. His brown eyes twinkling, he lifted his beer bottle in a mock toast, which Hugh and Jessica eagerly returned.

“Mind if I invite him to join us?”

Hugh didn’t wait for Ronnie’s reply before getting up and striding over to the bar where he and Nate engaged in a testosterone-infused reacquaintance that included a death-grip handshake and mutual shoulder clapping.

She swallowed a groan, silently begging Nate to decline the invitation. Naturally, he didn’t.

At the table, he bent over Jessica for a half hug and exchange of hellos before flashing a grin at Ronnie and claiming the empty chair next to her.

“Hey, Ronnie,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

She tensed but forced a smile.

“No, no,” Hugh insisted, “not at all. We’re thinking of buying a horse from Ronnie for our daughter. She started competing in junior events this past summer.”

“If it’s one of Ronnie’s horses,” Nate drawled, “I doubt you can go wrong.”

And he would know this how?

“Actually, Star Shine belongs to a friend of mine.” Ridiculous, for sure, but Ronnie felt the need to clarify. “But I’ve been training the horse off and on for a while.”

“Like I said,” Nate repeated, “I doubt you can go wrong. When it comes to barrel racing, Ronnie’s a heck of a horse trainer.”

She frowned. It wasn’t like she needed help closing the deal. Especially from Nate.

“And teacher,” Jessica added. “Our daughter adores Ronnie. She’s won three ribbons so far and is making tremendous progress.”

“Isn’t this past summer about the time you started your school?” Nate asked.

Technically, Ronnie had started the school this past spring, after her father had gifted her with a share of his lottery winnings. Wanting to sound more qualified, she answered, “I’ve been a barrel racing and Western horsemanship instructor at Powell Ranch for over three years. It’s only recently I went out on my own.”

There. That sounded good. And professional. She’d gotten her point across without bragging.

“What have you and your beautiful wife been up to lately?” Nate asked Hugh. “Besides having a family?”

“Working our tails off. Jessica and I own three Sandwich Nirvana shops. All of them in the Phoenix area.”

“No kidding! I love your French dip.”

“Me, too.” Hugh grinned proudly. “It’s our bestseller.”

“How’d you go from rodeoing to sandwich shop entrepreneur?”

“We always wanted to own our own business. After I retired from competition, we checked into several franchises. Sandwich Nirvana was the best fit.”

Hugh rambled on about his successes. Growing his first shop into three, buying a six-acre home in Mustang Valley with all the amenities, sending his children to the best private school in the area, as well as taking the family on a trip to Alaska.

Commendable, for sure, though Ronnie thought he might be going a bit overboard. Funny thing, the longer Hugh talked, the quieter Nate became.

When Hugh finally paused for air, he asked, “What about you, Nate? What have you been doing since retiring?”

“A little of everything. Traveling, primarily—mostly around the southwest. Nothing as far away as Alaska.”

Hmmm, Ronnie pondered. He seemed to have a habit of giving vague answers.

“With all your talent and titles,” Hugh continued, “I figured you’d be competing a lot longer than you did or moving into a related field. Didn’t Rocky Mountain Rodeo Equipment make you a pretty slick offer?”

Nate twirled his bottle, watching the last of his beer slosh around in the bottom. “Unfortunately that fell through, along with a couple other deals.”

“Happens sometimes. Business has its downside.”

“Weren’t you in some kind of accident?” Jessica scrunched her mouth in concentration. “A fall from a horse?”

That was right! How could Ronnie have forgotten? It had happened about a month after she’d left him. Mutual friends had told her Nate fell from a horse he was riding and that, though injured, he would recover. She’d been relieved and debated reaching out to him. Ultimately, she hadn’t, convinced he’d reject her effort.

“Yeah,” Nate admitted with a mirthless chuckle. “Seven years riding bulls, the last five professionally, and my knee was fractured by a two-year-old colt barely fourteen hands high. That’s what I get for thinking I could break a green horse.”

“What a shame,” Hugh commiserated. “Injuries have ended more than one career. You out for good?”

“Much to my parents’ and agent’s disappointment.” Nate’s attempt at levity fell flat, as evidenced by the somber expressions of everyone at the table.

“Much to your many fans’ disappointment,” Jessica added quickly.

Hugh pointed at Nate’s beer, the universal signal for inquiring if he wanted another one.

Nate shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m driving.”

“I notice you aren’t limping. And you’re still young enough. Ever considered returning?”

“Doc told me if I injure the knee again, I might lose use of the leg for good.”

Ronnie hadn’t heard that part of the story.

“Which brings you to where you are today,” Hugh said.

Again, Nate redirected the conversation by pointing to the posters on the wall. “What do you think about the recreational rodeo arena under construction? Instead of mechanical bulls, customers can now ride real bulls.”

Ronnie observed Nate while he talked, trying to pinpoint what was different about him. The Nate from her past had been an open book. He hadn’t practiced the fine art of deflection, and he certainly hadn’t been mysterious.

Admittedly, she was intrigued and not because he was someone she’d once loved.

Before too long Bess came over to their table.

“Sorry to bother you folks.” She smiled eagerly at Nate. “Any chance you and I can chat about that matter we discussed earlier?”

Matter? Ronnie was instantly curious.

Nate scooted back from the table, his glance encompassing the Carringtons and Ronnie. “If you don’t mind...”

“Course not.” Hugh shook his hand. “Hope to see you around.”

Jessica wouldn’t settle for anything less than a hug. “It was such a pleasure chatting with you.”

“Same here.”

Ronnie offered neither her hand nor a hug. She’d be seeing him tomorrow, after all, during Sam’s practice. Hating herself for it, she watched him walk away. He and Bess didn’t stop at the bar, instead continuing toward the door leading out back.

“I wonder what that’s about,” Hugh mused.

Ronnie wondered as well but said nothing.

Eventually, she and the Carringtons returned to discussing Star Shine. Ronnie was prepared to go the distance with her pitch. It proved unnecessary.

“If Nate thinks highly of your horse training abilities,” Hugh said, “that’s good enough for us. We’ll take Star Shine. When do you want us to pick her up?”

“When’s a convenient time for you?”

Hugh wanted another drink to celebrate their deal. Thankfully, Jessica nixed the suggestion and insisted they head home.

“You ladies ready?” Hugh swept his keys and phone off the table.

Ronnie knew she should go with them; she’d parked her truck two spaces down from theirs...

“You go on. I have something to do first.”

Jessica grabbed Hugh’s arm and gave a little wave with her free hand. “Have a good night.”

Ronnie strolled past the bar, saying a brief hello to Theo McGraw and a woman who boarded her horse at Powell Ranch. They probably assumed she was visiting the restroom. Once around the corner, she made straight for the back door, not at all sure what she’d give as an excuse if she encountered Nate and Bess.

As it turned out, she didn’t need one. The tall cowboy and the tiny bartender stood at the far end of the small arena, which was brightly lit by the overhead floodlights. A bank of aluminum bleachers had been installed since Ronnie’d last seen the arena, along with a trio of bucking chutes lined end-to-end.

Before long, the Poco Dinero would being hosting amateur bull riding and barrel racing events every weekend. When Bess had asked Ronnie to manage the barrel racing, she’d leaped at the opportunity, seeing a way to grow her school and horse training business.

As of yet, Bess hadn’t found the right candidate for bull riding manager. She couldn’t possibly be considering Nate, could she?

Ronnie stood in the shadows under the awning, observing him and Bess while they circled the arena. Their expressions were animated, their hands constantly making big gestures. Ronnie tried imagining other reasons for the tour. Maybe Bess was showing off her latest business endeavor to a renowned bull rider. Or, she could be seeking Nate’s advice.

When they suddenly changed direction and cut across the arena, Ronnie ducked back inside rather than be caught spying. In her haste, she dropped her keys just as the door closed behind her. Murmuring her second oath for the evening, she bent to retrieve the keys. Nerves got the best of her, and she dropped them a second time.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!”

The door banged open, missing her by an inch. She popped up, heat flooding her cheeks.

“Sorry about that? Are you okay?”

At the sound of Nate’s voice, she slowly pivoted. “I, ah...” She held up her keys. “Dropped these when I went to the bathroom.”

He shot a glance at the restroom door, a good fifteen feet away. “Did you?”

He clearly suspected she’d gone in search of him and Bess. Ronnie could kick herself. Stuffing her keys in her jacket pocket, she asked, “Where’s Bess?”

“Locking the equipment room.”

“Okay. Well, I should skedaddle.”

Skedaddle? That was the best her jumbled brain could come up with?

“Don’t go yet.” Nate took hold of her arm. “I have news.”

She was afraid to ask, her gut insisting she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Bess offered me a job. Bull riding manager. Seems I’ll be staying in Mustang Valley a while longer.”

Staying? And working with her? What next? Would he move into the vacant house across the street from her?

Unable to hang around and hear the rest of what he had to say, Ronnie spun and all but ran toward the door.

* * *

NATE CAUGHT UP with Ronnie halfway across the dance floor. “Hey. What are you mad about?”

She stopped abruptly, and he had to pull up fast to avoid bumping into her.

“Whoa!”

When she whirled to face him, accusation blazed in her green eyes. “No.”

“No what?”

“You aren’t taking the job and you’re not staying in town.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Last time I checked, this is a free country. I can take a job with anyone who hires me.”

“You said you were heading to Houston.”

“I also said my schedule’s flexible.”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Why am I taking the job? Honestly, I need the money.”

“You do know Bess hired me to manage the barrel racing events?”

“She mentioned as much.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Us working together?” He shook his head. “Not especially. From what I gather, the barrel racing and bull riding events are at different times.”

“Didn’t you think to ask me how I felt before accepting the job?”

On closer inspection, he could see the spark in her eyes was less accusation and more...fear? Was that possible? Unlikely. But trepidation, for sure, and wariness.

“Relax, will you?” He steered her to an empty table, not the same one they’d occupied with her clients. This one was smaller. Built for two. When they sat, their knees bumped and their feet battled for the limited amount of floor space. His hand inadvertently brushed hers. Each time, her reaction was a soft intake of breath. “It’s probably temporary.”

“Probably?”

“We’re starting with a month-long trial period.”

“And what about the rodeo this weekend? You promised Sam you’d go with us. If you’re working—”

“I’m going. The job’s only part-time. I’ll be able to work around Sam’s schedule, pretty much.”

“Four hours.” She slumped in her chair as if every ounce of fight had drained from her. “You’ve been in Mustang Valley a total of four hours and already you’ve completely disrupted my life.”

He almost chuckled and would have if she didn’t look ready to cry. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”

She raised her eyes to peer at him.

“What did I ever do to you?” He hadn’t intended to raise his voice, but, frankly, he’d grown weary of her attitude. “You treat me like I was awful to you, and we both know that’s not true.”

“Nothing.”

“I did nothing or you have nothing to say?”

She let her chin fall into her waiting hand. “You’re right. I’m possibly exaggerating.”

“And I repeat, why?”

“It’s complicated.”

Maybe so. Though, in Nate’s opinion, she was using complicated as an excuse to avoid a serious discussion.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked, his tone softer than before.

“Of course not!”

“Are you afraid of your feelings for me?”

She drew back, blinking. “I don’t have feelings for you anymore.”

He’d argue differently. The more he considered it, the more inclined he was to believe she wanted him gone because, like him, she wasn’t over their romance. Having him close stirred too many emotions, ones she’d prefer to suppress or ignore.

“Then why do you want me gone?”

“You have a way of distracting me,” she finally admitted. “I need to stay focused if I’m going to help Sam qualify for Nationals and get my new school off the ground.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

She made a face. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chose to quit while he was ahead. Ronnie had never responded well to pushing. She either clammed up, pushed back or ran away. This situation called for a different approach. One executed with finesse. Which would require him to do some explaining.

“This job is a good one for me, Ronnie, and not only because of the money. I need something to help me get back on my feet, even if it is only temporary.”

“I don’t understand. Back on your feet implies you’ve been struggling.”

He signaled the waitress and requested two soft drinks. When Ronnie didn’t object, he assumed she was willing to listen and let himself relax.

“My injury didn’t force me to quit competing. I lied to Hugh and Jessica.”

“Then what did?”

“To borrow your excuse, it’s complicated.”

She didn’t smile.

“Telling people I dropped out due to an injury is easier than saying I lost the drive.”

“No way. You were a world champion multiple times and in multiple events. With enough drive for ten people. You can’t just lose that.”

“Actually, you can. Pretty easily. And not only did I lose my drive to compete, I lost my drive to do much of anything else.”

She shook her head, her expression skeptical.

“What started with you dumping me and my falling out with my mother continued with my injury a month later.” He took his time. Very few people knew all that Nate had been through. If he had a choice, no one would. “While I was home recovering from surgery, my best friend, Logan, moved to Galveston. On top of that, he picked the anniversary of Allan’s death to deliver the news.”

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t acknowledge her apology, not quite ready to let her off the hook.

“Between losing you, my knee, not getting along with Mom, Logan moving, missing Allan, it was more than I could handle. Even after my knee healed, I stayed home. Quit competing. Avoided well-intentioned friends and family. Ignored phone calls, including the important ones. Slept a lot.”

“You were depressed.”

“That’s too unmanly a term for a big, macho guy like me.” He managed a half smile. “I prefer to say my spirits were low. After six months, my doctor recommended I get some therapy.”

“Did you?”

“Naw. I loaded up Breeze and hit the road. My own personal brand of therapy.”

“What happened to your sponsors?”

“Another unfortunate consequence. My agent sorted out the legalities. Ultimately, I wound up reimbursing the advances and paying the penalties for breach of contract.”

Her brows rose. “That must have been expensive.”

“A little.” Nate had gone broke and had yet to recover. “Before I left, I sold off everything I didn’t absolutely need.” The one exception was the engagement ring he’d bought for Ronnie. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he kept that tucked away in a drawer.

“And you’ve been traveling ever since?” Concern tinged her voice. For him?

“Mostly.” He sat up straighter when the waitress brought their sodas and waited until she left to continue. “Allan always encouraged me to take chances. Said life’s too short to live it on the sidelines. I applied that philosophy to rodeoing with pretty impressive results. Figured the same would hold true with my new lifestyle.”

“I’m guessing you were wrong.”

He took a swig of his soda. “I convinced myself all I needed was plenty of open highway, the occasional small town and a variety of scenery. I found odd jobs when I needed gas or food or pellets for Breeze, relaxed and enjoyed the sights when I didn’t. Along the way, I met some nice people, made new friends and checked off as many bucket list items as possible.”

“Did your spirits eventually lift?”

He couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not. “What’s the old saying? A doctor who diagnoses himself has a fool for a patient?”

“I thought it was the attorney who represents himself has a fool for a client.”

“Either way, I wasn’t so much taking chances as escaping my problems. Only by then I was on a fast downward spiral and unable to stop. Not that I tried very hard.” He pushed his cowboy hat back and rubbed his forehead. “I guess I needed the right incentive. Coming here, seeing what I’ve become though your eyes, comparing myself to Hugh—who started with less than me—I’ve had a rather rude awakening.”

“I don’t understand, Nate. You’re not at all the person I knew. You excelled at rodeoing. You were, and still should be, on top of the world.”

“That’s the last place I want to be. It’s cold and lonely up there. Hell, it’s cold and lonely at the bottom.”

“Is that how you felt when we were together?”

“Sometimes.”

She stiffened.

“You held back, Ronnie, only trusting me with part of your heart. Which was too damn bad. I thought we had a chance for a future.”

“We were young.”

“That’s not the reason.”

Her features abruptly fell, and she averted her glance.

He reached across the table for her hand. She let him hold it, though she didn’t return the gentle squeeze of his fingers. After a moment of silence, any hope he had that she’d open up and talk to him vanished.

“I’ll try to stay out of your hair as much as possible,” he said. “We’ll only cross paths during Sam’s lessons and competitions. When it comes to working together, I think we can both be civil.”

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