Читать онлайн книгу «The Bull Rider′s Cowgirl» автора April Arrington

The Bull Rider's Cowgirl
April Arrington
THE COWGIRL OF HIS DREAMSJen Taylor is this close to becoming a world-champion barrel racer. But when tragedy strikes bull rider Colt Mead, she puts her ambitions on hold…temporarily. The playboy of the circuit suddenly has a child depending on him. She can’t let her friend go it alone—no matter how much he hurt her…Colt knew Jen deserved better than a rootless bull rider. But caring for his orphaned half sister makes him realize how much he wants to be part of a family. And that family won’t be complete without the woman he loves as much more than a friend. Will she give up her dream to be part of his?


THE COWGIRL OF HIS DREAMS
Jen Taylor is this close to becoming a world-champion barrel racer. But when tragedy strikes bull rider Colt Mead, she puts her ambitions on hold…temporarily. The playboy of the circuit suddenly has a child depending on him. She can’t let her friend go it alone—no matter how much he hurt her…
Colt knew Jen deserved better than a rootless bull rider. But caring for his orphaned half sister makes him realize how much he wants to be part of a family. And that family won’t be complete without the woman he loves as much more than a friend. Will she give up her dream to be part of his?
“I’m sorry, Colt. So sorry.”
He didn’t make a sound but his body shook under Jen’s touch and he slid his face down to bury it against her belly. Her shirt grew damp under his cheek, her heart squeezing harder with every silent heave of his shoulders. She paused every few minutes to wipe away a tear of her own, swallowing the lump in her throat and holding back as many as she could.
His hold loosened and he raised his head. The weak expression crossing his striking features stabbed her chest. She leaned in and drifted soft kisses over his forehead, lean cheeks and bearded jaw. Hoping to lessen the heavy shadows hanging over him.
He looked at her then, his blue eyes welling, tears coating the thick lashes and clinging to the ends. She pressed gentle kisses there, too. The taste of salt touched her tongue as his eyelids fluttered shut.
His strong hand slid into her hair, palm cupping the back of her head and fingers kneading her nape. “Jen?”
The husky whisper had barely escaped when he touched his mouth to hers.
Dear Reader (#u68137953-2a46-5392-ae76-442d22395b41),
Like a lot of girls, I met the first man I’d ever love on the day I was born. My dad.
But I was lucky. Because there was a second man there that day, too. My brother.
Of course, he was a boy then and I’m sure my squalling face was the least welcome sight in his universe. Only, you’d never know it after looking at pictures of us as kids.
My mother was a photographer and took more photos of us than we could count. In some, he kissed my cheek. In others, he held my hand. But in all of them, he was right by my side. Just as he was the day we lost our mother.
I was sixteen and he was the first person to hold me that day. As much as he was hurting, he didn’t let go and say it’d be okay like others did. Because he knew what we’d lost…and how much I needed him.
That’s the kind of love a girl never forgets.
In The Bull Rider’s Cowgirl, Colt Mead is appointed guardian of his little sister, Meg. Being responsible for a child isn’t something he’s used to. He makes mistakes (as we all do) but he loves hard. And Meg is very lucky to have him.
Thank you for reading Colt’s story.
April
The Bull Rider’s Cowgirl
April Arrington


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
APRIL ARRINGTON grew up in a small Southern town and developed a love for movies and books at an early age. Emotionally moving stories have always held a special place in her heart. During the day, she enjoys sharing classic literature and popular fiction with students. At night, she spends her time writing stories of her own. April enjoys collecting pottery and soaking up the Georgia sun on her front porch. You can follow her on Twitter, @april_arrington (https://twitter.com/april_arrington).
Dedicated to my big brother, Steve.
I love you to the moon and back. Always.
Contents
Cover (#uae559cc2-3305-53b8-a856-87a017334b34)
Back Cover Text (#u31ccc275-2d02-5dc5-8e15-5df9c64a1c7a)
Introduction (#u5bd95aa1-19ae-502e-94e9-0820350fecd2)
Dear Reader (#ue15b4e35-d9fa-5734-8b4b-bebf940bd29e)
Title Page (#u2f248e7e-bb24-511e-b96a-b9a086a5a463)
About the Author (#u3353dd97-afbf-5ee7-b79f-5e7b51fc66b0)
Dedication (#u7161a943-5db5-5de7-85bb-31ab17a686e9)
Chapter One (#u479a3664-4a09-5503-be7d-2b732cabd8b5)
Chapter Two (#u7d21cd00-d16b-572f-865e-2ed128d1ea41)
Chapter Three (#uda4a9362-94f6-5105-987f-c921aadf2cda)
Chapter Four (#u3e38ecdc-22c2-59ec-8bd4-f16238cc8725)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u68137953-2a46-5392-ae76-442d22395b41)
15.32. Left, right, right. Go for great.
Only a fraction of a second separated a good barrel racer from a great one. The faster the run, the higher a name moved up the scoreboard. Tonight, Jen Taylor was determined her name would be at the top of the list.
“We can do this, Diamond.”
Jen nudged her quarter horse into a jog across the grassy warm-up area. His white mane rippled over the edge of the saddle and fluttered against the reins. The crowd, inside Kissimmee’s Silver Spurs Arena several feet away, burst into applause, signaling the end of another barrel racer’s run.
“Easy.” Jen dropped her weight in the saddle, took hold of the saddle horn and executed a sharp left turn.
She drew Diamond to a halt in front of the arena’s alley entrance, sucked in a lungful of warm Florida air and tried to still the frantic flutters in her stomach. One more run and she’d be up. The clear April evening was a perfect night for racing. If she could just get a handle on her nerves...
“That was Autumn Langley of Texas,” the announcer blared over the PA system.
Jen cringed, her face heating. Autumn Langley was one of the best in the arena. And a reminder of one of Jen’s biggest humiliations outside it.
She craned her neck, focused on the illuminated board and tried to make out Autumn’s score. The numbers and letters shifted. A few broke. Others floated. It was impossible to focus on them from this angle and her attention was too shot to concentrate.
Gut churning, she tore her eyes away. Diamond jerked his head and stomped his foot.
“It’s okay, boy,” she whispered, patting his neck.
Thankfully, the announcer spoke again. “Give it up. Autumn just cranked out a 17.12...”
Jen released a slow breath. The time to beat was still 15.32.
Ignoring the tremble in her hands, Jen raked her gaze over the cluster of cowboys leaning on the fence inside the arena and focused on their relaxed expressions. In less than an hour, several of them would be battling to hang on to the back of a massive, bucking bull. But not a hint of anxiety showed on their faces.
“It’s just another run,” she said softly, weaving her fingers through Diamond’s mane and drawing strength from the men’s carefree features. “We’re as strong on the dirt as any of those cowboys.”
The man closest to the alley gate glanced up. His tan Stetson cast a shadow over his chiseled features and blond, close-cut beard beneath the floodlights. He straightened, his blue eyes finding her, and issued a tight smile.
Jen’s belly warmed. Colt Mead’s sexy grin and muscled form had always had that effect on her. As well as other parts of her anatomy. It never mattered where she was or what she was doing. All it took was one crooked grin from Colt and her blood rushed. Her mind shot straight to imagining what it would be like to be kissed by him. To have his strong hands running over her bod—
Her mouth twisted. It’d been that way since they’d first met, four years ago. Twenty years old, Jen had been touring the rodeo circuit alone for over a year. Colt, twenty-one at the time, rode bulls professionally. Jen had immediately pegged Colt for the player he was, but she’d still gotten a kick out of his flirtatious banter and it hadn’t taken long for them to form a strong bond.
Only, there’d always been a sexual undercurrent to their friendship. One she’d been foolish enough to act on two weeks ago.
Colt leaned farther over the rail, his muscular bulk stretching his blue shirt and snug jeans. His smile vanished as he studied her expression.
Jen’s breath caught at the hot effects of his sensual eyes traveling to her chest. An aggravating inconvenience, since he’d insisted they remain friends.
She dropped her gaze and squirmed. Get it together, girl.
Here she was, about to start a run, and her focus was on Colt. He was becoming a distraction. A threat to what she’d worked so hard to achieve. She had to perform well to get to the finals in Vegas. And she would. No matter how hard she had to work. That board at the Thomas & Mack arena was going to light up with her name at the top of the list.
There was no room in her life for a womanizer. Especially one who had already shot her down, then taken off with another woman. Autumn Langley, to be exact.
The gate clanged open. Autumn trotted out on her beige mare, her dark gaze narrowing on Jen’s face.
Great. Just great. Of all the people to catch her salivating over Colt. And why the heck was Jen even concerned with either of them, anyway? She had a race to win.
Jen firmed her grip on Diamond’s reins and looked away from them. Both of them...together. Her stomach roiled at the images flashing through her mind.
“Colt’s looking fine these days.” Autumn smirked and led her mare in a circle around Diamond. The rhinestones and elegant embroidery on her shirt glinted under the light spilling from the arena, drawing attention to her shapely figure. “Tell him to swing by my RV if he gets bored later.” She laughed throatily. “That man knows how to give a woman a good time.”
Ignore her. A bad run could make anyone angry. Focus on winning.
Jen lifted her chin and smiled. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”
“Good.” Autumn’s mouth flattened into a thin line, her voice curt. “He’ll be grateful to you.”
Jen dismissed the furious heat sparking through her veins and repositioned herself in the saddle. It wasn’t any of her business who Colt spent time with. She knew he partied hard. Had watched firsthand as he’d sweet-talked women in the arena over the years. That was the very reason she’d initially refused to give in to her attraction to him.
One she should’ve remembered when she’d had too many beers, pulled a boneheaded move and kissed him. Instead, she’d suggested they act on their attraction, get it out of their system and consider being friends with benefits—behaving more like a buckle bunny than a seasoned, focused athlete.
She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, finding it difficult to drag in air.
Autumn shook her head and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. “Dirt’s bad in there.” Her tone softened. “Makes for a tough run. Sure sucks being last.”
Last. Jen winced. She’d always been last. The last student in her class to learn to read. A skill she’d struggled to master due to a learning disability. And the lowest ranked student in her graduating class. Her grades were the worst of all and far below the acceptable level of universities.
She hadn’t let that stop her from pursuing success, though. No way was she going to end up just another small-town nothing. She’d gotten that high school diploma, found work on a local ranch and earned enough money to strike out on her own. Chasing a dream of making a name for herself in the one thing she’d always exceled at.
Racing. Jen flashed a brighter smile and met Autumn’s stare head-on. “I don’t mind bringing up the rear. Being last just makes you hungrier to be first.”
That she knew from experience.
Autumn sighed, eyeing Diamond. “Seriously, girl. Take care out there. That roughed-up dirt can trip up any horse.”
“Don’t you have some cooling down to do, Autumn?” Tammy Jenkins, Colt’s cousin and Jen’s traveling partner, squeezed between the horses, her elbow bumping Jen’s leg. “This is the warm-up ring.”
“Warm-up ring?” Autumn scoffed, surveying the grassy patch surrounding them. “More like someone’s backyard. No wonder everyone’s time is off tonight, with no decent place to prepare.”
“You’re the only one whose time is off,” Tammy said. “There’s plenty of space to prepare and practice for those that put in the effort. You’re just used to having things handed to you.”
Jen’s face heated. “Tammy—”
“No problem.” Autumn held up a hand. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She raised a brow and grinned. “Also know when I am. Don’t forget to pass my message on to Colt.” She tugged on her reins and walked her horse away, chiming over her shoulder, “It’s always so nice talking to you, Tammy.”
Tammy clucked her tongue. “That no good, trash-talking—”
“Calm down, Tammy.” Jen stifled a laugh and reached down to squeeze her shoulder. “She was being decent for a change.”
“Decent, my butt.” Tammy crossed her arms, her green eyes flashing. “You cut people way too much slack. Autumn only speaks to you when she’s up to something. She’s trying to get in your head and trip you up. And no matter what she says, I don’t believe Colt would ever be dumb enough to carouse with her.”
Jen sighed. She could. Autumn wasn’t just a talented racer. She was smart and attractive, too. And Colt had left the bar with her two weekends ago, his brawny arm around her waist and broad hand at her hip. Just a half hour after he’d slipped from Jen’s drunken embrace on the bar stools.
“Doesn’t matter.” Jen ran shaky fingers through Diamond’s mane. “Colt’s fun to flirt with but I’m not interested in him in that way.”
“Right...” Tammy’s lips twitched. “I oughta kick you in the behind.”
“For what?”
“For lying to your best friend. I’ve known for a while now that you have the hots for Colt. Anyone can see it on your face.” Her lip curled in distaste as she glanced over her shoulder. “Even someone as self-absorbed as Autumn.”
Jen’s cheeks burned. Had it been that obvious?
“I’m just proud of you for staying focused and steering clear.” Tammy gave a wry smile. “And proud of him for respecting you enough to do the same. I love Colt, but he’s trouble when it comes to women. He knows that.” She frowned. “I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you lately, but I wish you’d straighten it out. It was bad enough listening to y’all flirt all the time, but it’s worse with you not speaking to each other.”
Jen’s stomach flipped. If Tammy only knew what a fool she’d made of herself. And how much Colt’s rejection had hurt...
No matter. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore and knew the rules of the game. Colt was just another sexy bull rider on the circuit who wasn’t looking for a relationship. Even a casual one. At least he’d been a good friend and had been honest with her up front.
“Hey.” Tammy touched her arm. “The higher you are, the harder people try to pull you down. That’s all Autumn was doing. Trying to pull you down.” She patted Diamond’s rump. “You and Diamond are the greatest pair tearing out of the alley. He hugs those barrels like they’re his mama, and you rate him right on the money every time. Your skill surpassed mine and most other racers’ a long time ago.”
Jen doubted that. Other than Autumn, Tammy was the best racer on the circuit. Tammy had taken Jen’s breath away the night they’d met, blasting down the alley and breaking a barrel racing record. Several hours of practice together, thousands of laughs and a mutual love for the sport had led to a solid friendship.
A scattered round of groans sounded from inside the arena. The gate clanged open and a downbeat racer trudged out.
“Show the gal some love.” The announcer’s voice blared. “Knocking over barrels beats eating dirt, and she gave it her best. Time with penalties is 28.17, putting her in last position.”
Jen renewed her grip on the reins, blood rushing and panic welling inside her again. She offered a sympathetic nod to the tearful brunette passing by on her mare.
“Where’s your head, Jen?”
Jen glanced back down, her spirit lifting at Tammy’s encouraging expression and gentle smile. There was no Autumn. No Colt. Just barrels and a run. Tammy was the best dang friend a girl could ask for.
“On tight,” Jen said, tapping her hat down more firmly on her brow. “Can you remind me what the time to beat is?”
“15.32.”
Turn and burn. Jen led Diamond to the alley. Rough dirt or not, that was exactly what she was gonna do.
* * *
JEN WAS STILL PISSED. And he couldn’t blame her.
Colt ducked his head and eased back from the fence as the most recent racer exited the arena. The speakers blared overhead on a stream of heavy metal as Jen made her way to the gate.
Colt tried to catch her eye again. Tried to get one more look at her face to reassure himself she’d shaken off the angry glare she’d shot him earlier and regained her focus. But her head was down, her hat making it impossible for him to get a clear view.
A fresh wave of tension assaulted his muscles. He uncurled his fists from the rail, flinching as his fingers cramped. Such a foolish state he’d worked himself into. He’d never gotten this tense over tangling with an angry bull. So why the hell would he get so terrified of watching a horse run around metal buckets?
“Arlene and I were together for seven weeks. Seven damn weeks. That’s the longest I’ve stayed hooked up with any woman.” His friend Judd Marsh, another bull rider, smacked the rail with his palm and vented at Colt’s side. “She called it quits last night. Right after I got thrown off that nut job of a bull.”
Colt winced. “Sorry, man.”
“That ain’t the worst of it, though. You know what she said to me?”
Colt shook his head.
“She said I don’t pay her enough attention.” He propped one hand on his hip, waved the other in the air and adopted a high-pitched voice. “‘Judd, you’re just not sensitive to my needs.’” He slapped his leg and scowled. “Shit, man. I’m sensitive.”
Colt bit back a laugh.
“Don’t you think I’m sensitive?”
“Yep,” Colt said. “Sensitive enough.”
Colt’s smile slipped. That was what he was becoming. What Jen was turning him into. Too damned sensitive. Which was exactly why he was standing here hyperventilating over the risk of Jen getting thrown off her horse despite the fact that she was a strong rider and it’d been months since her last fall.
Though it’d probably help if he didn’t know how hard that dirt hurt when you slammed into it at high speed. Or how difficult it was to roll outta the way, get back on your feet and avoid a thousand-pound animal crushing the air out of your lungs.
Yeah. He might deal with it better if he hadn’t experienced that himself.
“Hell. Whatever.” Judd scanned the stands, gaze lingering over one section. “There’s always another one out there.”
Colt nodded. Judd was right on that count. There was always another woman. Plenty of them. And Colt had spent more nights than he cared to remember over the past four years trying to enjoy them. Only problem was, he no longer wanted them. Hadn’t wanted anyone but Jen since the second he’d laid eyes on her.
He glanced to his left, managing to catch a quick glimpse of her face as she looked up before facing the barrels. Her long, red curls slipped over her shoulder, obscuring the curves of her cheek and mouth.
His body tightened. That mouth. That beautiful, soft mouth she’d used two weeks ago to whisper a sweet plea in his ear. That she’d trailed temptingly across the stubble on his cheek before kissing him.
What would those lush lips of hers have felt like if he’d given in and kissed her back? Kissed her the way he’d wanted to for years? Deeply and passionately. How would she have responded? With slow, coaxing movements? Or hot, hungry—?
Colt jerked his head to the side. Shut it down. He had no right wondering. No right even contemplating it. Jen was too good a woman for a sexy, meaningless fling. And that’d never be enough for him, anyway. Not with her. Jen wasn’t like the women he played with on the circuit. She was a competitive, focused athlete. One who wasn’t impressed by smooth talk or skilled touches. She was above that. Deserved better.
A woman like Jen deserved a ring, a picket fence and a baby. The whole shebang. The kind of woman he wasn’t interested in and wouldn’t be any good with.
So he’d turned her down. He’d torn himself away before he had a chance to screw up and give in. Had arranged for a mutual friend he trusted to get her back to the motel safely, then had hauled ass with the first woman who threw herself in his path.
Colt’s face tingled, his neck burning. He’d known just the sight of him leaving with another woman would tick Jen off enough to sober her up a bit and take her mind in another direction. She didn’t need to know the farthest he’d gone with Autumn Langley was to the parking lot to help her into her truck. That he’d pulled a 180 right there on the cracked pavement and politely refused the rest of Autumn’s advances.
He winced and rubbed his fingers over his cheek. Or that Autumn had smacked him a good one and accused him of leading her on. Using her to make Jen jealous. Which, no matter how good his intentions had been, was exactly what he’d done.
Yep. It was better he just be that guy. The one not worth crying over. That was the kind he’d been for years, anyway. The kind he’d always be.
“Next up, folks, is Jen Taylor.” Cheers broke out around the arena at the announcement. “She hails from Hollow Rock, Georgia.”
Colt straightened, hands grabbing the rail again.
Jen took her place at the top of the alley. She sat tall in the saddle, her red hair shining against her turquoise blouse, providing a fiery contrast to Diamond’s white hide.
A shot of heat streaked through Colt. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Jen’s partner is Diamond,” the announcer shouted over the crowd, “though you probably know them as Fire and Ice.”
The fans in the bleachers above Colt jumped to their feet, yelping as handfuls of their popcorn bounced off his hat. Colt’s smile returned. Jen was good. Better than good. And everyone knew it. He’d seen her work her way up through grueling hours of practice, endless tours on the circuit and dogged determination.
The same determination that scared the hell out of him when she rode. She didn’t hold back during a run. Wouldn’t let Diamond, either. She burned across the dirt like a flame and Diamond curved around those barrels like a slick coating of frost.
“Jen looks ready,” Judd said, nudging him with an elbow. “Think she can pull it off?”
“Hell, yeah.”
A 15.32? Jen could crack that in her sleep. So long as she kept her focus.
Colt trained his gaze on Jen’s face. Her brown eyes remained pinned to the pocket by the left barrel, lush lips moving slowly in a silent mantra. Diamond shuffled his feet in anticipation as he waited for her permission. A nod, a swift kick and they were off, blasting down the alley and heading for the first barrel at full speed.
The first turn was flawless. Jen checked him with two hands at just the right moment, gripped the saddle horn and led him around clean and easy. Diamond tore out of the turn and dashed to the next. The second rotation carried off without a hitch.
The pair blazed over to the last barrel but Diamond stumbled. His front hoof slipped on the uneven dirt, jerking Jen forward. The rail rattled under Colt’s grip and his boot shot to the lower fence rung. His stomach heaved as the audience gasped.
“Hold on, Red,” he bit out.
She did. Diamond regained his footing and darted around the last turn. Jen loosened the reins, giving Diamond control, and they blasted across the finish line to the applause of the crowd.
Colt relaxed and released his death grip on the fence.
“Damned shame,” Judd said. “That trip’s gonna cost her.”
“Don’t care.” Colt pushed off the rail and headed for the exit. “She’s still in one piece.”
Though her pride had probably taken a hit at not earning the best time.
“Hey, where you going?” Judd called. “We’re up soon.”
“I know.” Colt waved him off. “Be back in a minute.”
With swift strides, he dodged whooping spectators under the blaring voice on the PA system.
“Beautiful ride by Jen Taylor. Time is 15.37, placing her second. Let’s give that gal a hand...”
Nope. No way would Jen be happy with that. She’d said on more than one occasion that getting second only meant you were the first loser. Something he had a sudden desire to help her see differently.
Colt continued forcing his way through the chaotic mass of people. He’d made it several feet when a cry cut through the air at his side. A pink bundle banged into his left knee and he grabbed it before it tumbled to the floor.
A young girl—three, maybe four?—tossed her blond curls off her cute face and steadied herself with a small hand on his leg. She had brown eyes and freckles, just like his younger half sister, Meg. At least that was what he remembered. He’d last seen her when he left home seven years ago.
An uncomfortable ache formed in his gut. One that appeared every time he remembered leaving Meg behind. “Whoa, there. You all right?”
The girl looked up at him, blinked, then spun back to scowl at the man chasing after her.
“But I want it!” Her outraged shriek almost took the roof off the arena.
“No, Annabelle.” The man took her arm and tugged her back to his side. “You’ve already had one cotton candy and that’s enough for tonight.” He nodded at Colt, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem, man.”
Colt glanced at the girl straining against her dad’s hold. Her cheeks turned cherry red and her eyes squinted.
Here it comes. Colt did his best to navigate around the group in front of him and gain some distance.
“But Ty got two,” she screeched. “I want two.”
“Your brother only had one. The same as you. I said no and that’s that.”
She jerked away and hit the floor, her pink skirt flopping around her flailing legs. Her screaming sobs prompted everyone within a mile radius to frown in her dad’s direction. He bent, hissed admonishments and tried to gather up her writhing form, with no success.
Colt cringed. Poor bastard. Kids might be cute but most of ’em turned out to be little devils disguised in pink ribbons or baseball caps. A man had to be crazy to saddle himself with one on a permanent basis.
The girl’s cries strengthened, piercing Colt’s ears and provoking a pained laugh from him. He shook his head and forged through the crowd, making his way outside. The fresh air enveloped him and the girl’s shrieks faded.
“Hey.” Tammy bumped him with her shoulder and fell in step beside him. Her lopsided smile didn’t hold its usual sparkle. “Come to console our partner?”
Colt shrugged. “No need for consoling. Jen had a good run.”
“Yeah. I know.” Tammy nodded toward the outskirts of the warm-up area. “But try telling her that.”
Jen was cooling Diamond down, apart from everyone at the edge of the grass. She walked him in slow lines, chin lifted. If Colt hadn’t spent years studying every sweet curve of her body and how she moved it, he might’ve missed the overly stiff set of her shoulders and hard clench of her thighs around the saddle. But he didn’t.
Colt cut his eyes away and watched the other racers mingling around the cooldown area. “I’m gonna touch base with her before I ride. You mind giving us a minute?”
“Sure.” Tammy’s brows raised, her green eyes encouraging as she walked away. “Take your time.”
Colt walked over to Jen, stopping as she maneuvered Diamond into a turn and faced him. Her eyes flashed.
He squared his shoulders then nodded up at her. “That was a damn good run, Red.”
Jen stilled and the hard glint in her eyes softened. She smiled. The action small and beautiful. But hesitant.
“Thanks.” She patted Diamond’s thick shoulder. “I’ve got a talented partner.”
“It wasn’t all him,” Colt said. “You had a part in that, too. The hardest part.” His hand lifted, reaching toward her. He brought it back to his side and shifted his stance. “Second place is fantastic considering the tough competition you had. You really were great.”
Jen looked away, brushing light touches over Diamond’s mane. Her smile fell. “Wasn’t quite enough, though,” she whispered.
Colt’s throat closed. She was so hard on herself. More critical of her performances than anyone else was. Almost to the point of erasing all the joy from a competition. Her face had stopped lighting up at the start of a run like it used to. And at the moment he wanted to see that glow in her smile again. Needed to see it.
“It’ll be more than enough next time,” he said, freezing at the husky note in his voice.
Something soft heated his palm. He blinked and looked down, stiffening at the sight of his hand curled around her thigh, easing its way up toward her hip. Just as it had with so many other women.
Her rich, brown eyes narrowed their focus on his hand, then shot to his face. “Feeling sorry for me, Colt? Trying to help me feel better by throwing me a little attention?” Her face flushed and her voice shook. “I don’t need soothing. But Autumn might. She said you’re welcome to pay her a visit later.” She eased Diamond back a few steps, sliding away from his touch. “Seems you’re good at a lot more than just sweet-talking women.”
Ah, hell. That was called for. But it stung. It squeezed his chest so tight, his lungs threatened to collapse.
Still, Jen’s anger was an improvement over the defeated expression she’d had moments ago and a lot easier to deal with than her adoration. Especially since he knew that in the long run, he’d only disappoint.
“Yeah.” He choked back his pride, knuckled his hat farther up his forehead and conjured a sly grin. “I am. You just haven’t seen me at my best yet, baby.” He widened his smile, easing back into the safe, familiar role. “Stick around and watch me ride.”
Colt spun on his heel and ambled away. Jen’s hard stare burned a bigger hole in his back with each step. He took the long way around to the bull pens, avoiding every buckle bunny and child within sight.
Women. He understood them only in the bedroom. And kids? He didn’t understand them at all. Bulls, however, he got. And the massive, black-and-white-speckled monster glaring at him through the gate was about to get to know him, too.
Chapter Two (#u68137953-2a46-5392-ae76-442d22395b41)
“Careful. That son o’ a bitch can spring.”
Colt handed the end of his rope to Judd and studied the restless bull being prepared in the chute below them. “I hope so.”
A bull that jumped, kicked and spun right out of the chute guaranteed a shot at a high score. The kind of score Judd had failed at grabbing several rides ago when he’d drawn a flat bull that took a Sunday stroll out of the chute instead of blasting out of it. Hopefully, Sonic, the burly beast Colt had drawn, would be feistier.
As if on cue, the angry animal slammed his thick horns into the metal rails, then sprang up, hooking his hooves over the top of the eight-feet-high gate. The cheers filling the Silver Spurs Arena strengthened as the cowboys surrounding the chute yanked on the ropes draped over the bull’s back, pulling him off the gate.
Colt smiled. Hell, yeah. This one was a damn deal feistier.
He glanced around the arena, taking steady breaths and visualizing a successful scenario on the dirt. But his eyes snagged on a cream-colored hat and red hair in the stands.
In the front row, Jen no longer sat, but had shot to her feet, eyes on the bull banging around in the chute below him, and face creased with apprehension. Tammy and another woman he recognized as a barrel racer—Karla, was it?—stood at her side, looking equally dismayed.
Colt turned away, started wrapping tape around the glove on his left hand and did his best to ignore the warm satisfaction rippling through him. Pissed though she was, Jen had not only stuck around for over an hour to watch his ride, she was worried about him.
“Told you this joker could spring,” Judd shouted over the hard rock music. “You ready to get slung?”
“Yep.” Colt bit the tape off, handed the roll to one of the spotters at his side and jerked his chin. “So long as it’s after eight seconds.”
A buzzing in Colt’s back pocket rattled through the denim of his jeans. He yanked his cell phone out, glancing at the lit screen. Mead Enterprises.
Colt shook his head. Friday night. Approaching 10:00 p.m. No doubt his father, John W. Mead, would still be holed up in his high-rise Atlanta office closing another deal. It was always about business with John W. Mead. Never personal. And never about actually building a relationship with his son. That had become especially true after Colt’s mother died.
Nope. His old man probably wanted the same thing he’d been hassling him about for the last year.
Time to get your ass home, Colt. You’ve played long enough and there’s work to be done.
Colt rejected the call with a rough swipe of his thumb and shoved his cell toward Judd. “Mind hanging on to that till I’m through?”
“Sure.” Judd shoved it in his pocket, then firmed his grip on the rope.
Colt scrutinized Sonic’s movements and regained his focus. He shoved in his mouth guard, grabbed the opposite rail and climbed into the chute, placing a boot in the center of the bull’s back. He waited a couple seconds as Sonic shifted and stomped, then slid his legs down around the bull’s muscular sides and sat.
The rich scent of musky hide filled his nostrils and the tang of dirt drifting on the air touched his tongue with each breath he took. He grabbed hold of the rope Judd stretched up, and yanked his gloved hand over it briskly, tapping it with his fist when he finished to cue Judd to hand it over. Hooking his gloved fingers through the handle laying over the bull’s back, he set the rope, then wrapped the long end of it around his palm. He closed his fist, opened it, then curled it again.
Satisfied with his grip, Colt secured his position, then nodded.
The gate clanged open and Sonic catapulted into the arena, his back end twisting and lifting vertically several feet into the air on a vicious kick. Colt stretched his right arm high above his head as they rose up. He leaned back and the muscles in his left forearm seized with his strained grip on the rope.
Sonic’s hard haunches slammed against Colt’s shoulder blades. The bull’s long tail whipped over Colt’s head and smacked across his face, the coarse hairs stinging his eyes and knocking his hat off his head.
Gravity snatched them back down and Sonic’s front hooves hit the dirt, yanking Colt forward. Colt jerked his head to the side, his cheek missing the sharp point of a horn by inches.
Sonic lurched again, lifting them both so high so fast that Colt’s gut swirled on an intense wave of panicked excitement. A shout exploded from deep within his chest and blasted through the smile stretching across his mouth guard.
Hot damn! This beast could fly.
Clenching his thighs to counteract each of Sonic’s moves, Colt held on with his left fist, but let go of the world around him. The spectators’ cheers dimmed to barely discernable echoes and the violent thrashings of the bull rattled away every care or concern he’d ever had.
They soared, spun, then thudded hard against the earth. Over and over. Each of their grunts and harsh breaths flooded Colt’s senses as he pitted his will against Sonic’s.
A buzzer sounded and reality struck, ripping his attention away from the battle and back to survival. He wrestled his hand free of the rope and leaned to the side as Sonic writhed in the air, allowing the momentum to sling him from the bull’s back and tumble him across the dirt.
He sprang to his feet and ran. Sonic followed, charging twice before the bullfighters distracted him and directed him back toward the pen.
Colt spotted his Stetson in the dirt. He scooped it up, settled it back on his head, then tipped the brim at Sonic. The bull snorted, kicking the metal gate one more time as he bulldozed his way into the pen.
Colt pulled his mouth guard out, shoved it in his pocket and laughed. “Nice meetin’ you, too, you big bastard.”
He waved at the cheering crowd, then made his way out of the ring, rubbing a hand over the sore muscles of his lower back and grimacing at the sharp ache in his left ankle.
Judd met him at the gate, handed him his phone, then slapped his shoulder. “I think you just locked this one down, man. No one’s going to pull off a better ride than that tonight.”
“Let’s hope not,” Colt said, breathing hard. “That bull made me earn it.”
Judd laughed. “I gotta get back and spot another rider.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he left. “Your fan club’s calling.”
Colt glanced toward the stands. Tammy stood on the floor beside the front row, laughing and waving her hat wildly. Karla was at her side, whistling through two fingers and making catcalls. Jen stood nearby with a blank expression, clutching a beer.
Colt made his way over but slowed when Jen’s dark eyes ran over him, hovering on the slight limp of his left leg. His grin widened and that tingle of satisfaction returned.
“That was fantastic,” Karla yelled over the noise in the arena.
“Fantastic?” Tammy threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “It was phenomenal!”
A chuckle escaped him despite the painful twinge Tammy’s snug hold caused. “Glad you thought so.”
“Are you all right?”
Jen scrutinized his left leg. Her eyes lifted and locked with his, the gentle concern shining there sparking an unwelcome yearning in his chest. It made his palms itch with the need to reach out and tug her to him. Made him miss the friendly banter they used to share.
“Why?” Colt slipped out of Tammy’s embrace and flashed a cocky grin, teasing her like he used to. “Worried about me, baby?”
Jen didn’t respond in kind as he’d hoped. Just scoffed, her mouth flattening as she cut her eyes away.
He wasn’t sure what got under her skin more. The suggestive tone he’d used or the arrogant smile he’d adopted. Though it could’ve been the wink he’d thrown in, too.
What he did know for sure was that the damage he’d done that night in the bar caused all three actions to fall flat and made him feel like more of a heel than ever.
Tammy’s small fist punched his chest. “Watch it, Colt.”
Duly chastised, he ducked his head and ignored the heat singeing his cheeks.
“After you collect your check, we need to pack up and head out,” Tammy said. “That big money pot is still up for grabs at the Davie Pro Rodeo tomorrow night and I could use the extra time to prepare. I really need that win if I’m going to make it to the finals this year.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Colt said, squeezing her shoulder.
Tammy’s brows rose. “Oh yeah, I do. You think Jen felt bad about placing second tonight? I’d have killed for that spot. I was fifth, Colt. Fifth.”
“I know, but—”
“And I was eighth,” Karla added, tucking a short strand of black hair behind her ear. “Tammy and I have already crunched some numbers. Jen can get by without another win this weekend, but if Tammy and I don’t place in the top three at Davie, we’ll be so far behind we’ll never qualify for Vegas.”
“You’ll make it,” Colt said, meeting Tammy’s uncertain expression with a determined one. “I know you will.”
“Not if I don’t place at Davie tomorrow night.” Tammy shook her head. “Without that win, I’m out.”
Colt nodded. A trip to Davie was just in time. Maybe he’d have more luck finding a woman there who stirred his interest. One who would help him shake off this lust he had for Jen. Then maybe he’d have a decent shot at rebuilding their friendship.
“So we’ll head to Davie.” He grinned and patted his front pocket. “Right after I collect my check.”
Yep. That was the way he liked it. No baggage. No responsibilities. Just an endless string of nights filled with fun and freedom. All provided by the bulk of bills lining his pockets. Money he’d earned himself on the back of a bull. Free and clear of his corporate raider father.
The phone in Colt’s hand went off, jerking with rhythmic pulses. He glanced at the screen. Mead Enterprises again.
He groaned. John W. Mead wasn’t giving up tonight. Might as well get it over with.
“Gotta take this.” Colt nodded in apology to the ladies, exited the arena and accepted the call, striving for a nonchalant tone. “Before you ask, I’m headed south. In the opposite direction.”
Silence hung heavy on the line. There was no sharp reprimand from his father. No cynical comeback. Just empty air.
Colt huffed out a breath and kicked the ground. The old man was trying a new tactic. “Go ahead. Lay that guilt on thick ’cause it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in joining up with the company. I have business of my own to take care of.” Bulls. Beaches. And beauties. Not necessarily in that order. “You hear me, Dad?”
“Mr. Mead? Colt Wyatt Mead?”
He stilled. The voice on the other end of the line was feminine. Hesitant but businesslike.
“You got him. Who’s this?”
“This is Angela Reed. Your father’s secretary.”
Colt’s fingers squeezed the phone, his laugh hesitant. “You’re working late tonight. He ask you to pass along new marching orders to me?”
“Sir.” A swift intake of air sounded across the line. “I’m sorry to deliver news this way but...” An odd tapping started, as if a phone cord was being jiggled. “There was—” Her voice cracked. “Your father’s partner, Jack Evans, has been trying to reach you. He asked me to call and tell you...”
He froze. “Tell me what?”
“There’s been an accident.” Her words were short and swift. “Your father’s jet crashed this morning. I’m sorry to say he didn’t make it.”
Colt’s stomach heaved, a wave of nausea surging over him. “What?”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Mead,” she whispered. “But Mr. Evans wanted you to know in time to return home for the funerals if you desired to do so. Services have been arranged for Sunday afternoon.”
“Funerals?” Dear God. Meg. “My sister. Was she—”
“No, sir,” she said hastily. “Your sister wasn’t on board. Just your father and Mrs. Mead.”
A strange tingling spread over him, buzzing through his blood and clouding his vision. The ground warped beneath his feet. He moved closer to the paddock fence in front of him and grabbed at the top rail.
His father. His stepmother. Dead.
“Mr. Mead?” The secretary’s voice softened. “Your sister is the other reason for my call. There are several matters that require your attention. May I tell Mr. Evans that you’ll be returning?”
Colt squeezed his eyes shut. His throat thickened, strangling his words. “Y-yes. I’m returning.”
The trembling in his limbs turned violent. Colt cut the call and clenched both hands into fists. He continued standing there as winners were announced over the PA system. Stayed still as the throng of spectators left the arena and made their way to the parking lot, leaving only rodeo participants behind.
Colt waited until his stomach hardened and the feeling in his limbs vanished. Until there was no feeling left anywhere. Numb was a damned sight better than breaking down right now. He had to stay in control to make the long drive home. And he was a world away from Atlanta’s Tuxedo Park.
* * *
“COLT?”
Jen took a few hesitant steps forward, her boots whispering over the grass as she approached him. He didn’t answer. Just stood there, motionless as he stared straight ahead at the paddock, fists at his sides.
The crowd outside the Silver Spurs Arena had dwindled to a few rodeo riders, every one of them eager to find the next party and unwind. All except Colt. One phone call had extinguished his flirtatious demeanor.
Jen’s skin prickled at the unusually tight set of his broad shoulders. She stopped, fiddled with the soggy label on her beer and tried again.
“Colt. What’s wrong?”
A crack of laughter rang out. Jen glanced over her shoulder to find Tammy and Karla sauntering through the exit and sharing a joke.
Tammy’s eyes brightened as they landed on Colt. “Well, finally. We’ve been waiting for you for forever. You won. They’ve got your check...”
Her steps faltered at his lack of response and she shot a look at Jen.
Jen shook her head.
“Who was on the phone, Colt?” Tammy moved to his side and placed a hand on the small of his back, releasing a small laugh. “Come on. You’re scaring us. Who was it?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “My father’s secretary.”
“Bad news?” Tammy asked.
He nodded.
“Well, wha—”
“My father’s dead.”
Tammy gasped and wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “Oh, no.”
Jen froze, her fingers clutching the beer bottle hard. Karla made a sound of dismay at her side.
“He and my stepmom.” His brow furrowed. “Their jet crashed.”
The words were flat. Emotionless. His blue eyes were empty and his expression remained stoic.
Jen’s vision blurred. “I’m so sorry, Colt,” she whispered, unsure what else to say.
They rarely spoke of family. His, Tammy’s or hers. Just made vague comments when necessary. He and Tammy were close and that was about as much as she knew.
Colt’s features hardened and he shrugged away from Tammy’s touch. “They always flew on a private jet.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s faster and my father says it’s safer. At least that’s what he used to say.” A sneer crossed his face. “Truth was, he thought he was too good to fly commercial with common people. Both of them did.” His voice weakened. “Death doesn’t discriminate, though, does it?”
Jen’s heart squeezed at the shadows in his eyes. She glanced at Tammy, her throat closing at the tears streaming down her friend’s cheeks. Jen crossed to her side and squeezed her hand.
Colt planted his back to them, saying, “My sister’s alone.”
“You have a sister?” Jen asked.
Colt nodded and thrust his hands in his pockets. “Meg. My half sister. She’s around nine now. I haven’t seen her since she was two.”
Jen hesitated. “Surely a family member’s with her—”
“What family?” Scorn tinged his words. He spun around to face her. “My father’s work was his family. It’s not surprising that his secretary was the one to give me the news.” He hesitated, his sculpted mouth opening, then closing as he eyed his cousin. “Tammy, I need to go home. Just for the weekend. For the funeral and to see Meg.”
“Of course.” Tammy pulled her hand free from Jen’s and wiped her cheeks. “I’ll go with you. We can have the horses loaded in no time.”
“No.” Colt held up a hand. “I’m going alone. You have a race to win.”
Tammy’s jaw fell. “Screw the race, Colt. I’m not—”
“You are.” He shook his head, jaw clenching. “You know what it’s like back there. And I’m not staying for any longer than the...” He stopped, looking away before continuing. “I’m not staying any longer than necessary.”
Jen ached at the bleak tone in his voice. She longed to wrap her arms around Colt and comfort him but knew he wouldn’t accept it.
“Colt.” Tammy’s tone turned hard. “There’s no way I’m letting you go alo—”
“You don’t have to let me do anything. This is how I want it.” Colt’s chest lifted on a rough breath. “You knew what he was like. He never gave a shit about me. Or you. Or anyone for that matter. I’m not letting you blow your chance at success for that—”
His voice cracked. He spun on his heel to leave.
Tammy grabbed his arm and jerked him to a stop. “Colt. This is ridiculous.” She stepped close, her face pleading. “You can’t expect me to waltz off to a race while you’re dealing with this.”
“You think I’d want you going back there? Ever?” Colt took her shoulders and peered down at her. “Do you want to go back, Tammy?”
Jen studied her friend. Tammy looked down, hands twisting and face paling.
Colt’s chin trembled. He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “You weren’t welcome there before he died. You think you’ll be more welcome now? Take my word for it that whoever he left in charge of that place will be just as cold and hateful as he was. I’m not letting you go through that again.”
“Colt, please. You can’t...” A sob broke from Tammy.
Colt tugged her close and tucked her head under his chin, his voice strained. “You’ll go to Davie and you’ll win. And I’ll be back before you know it.”
Jen closed her eyes, her heart still clenching at the mixture of pain and tenderness in Colt’s face.
“Then let Jen go with you.”
Jen’s eyes sprang open at Tammy’s words. “What? Tammy—”
Tammy spun to face her, expression fierce. “I can’t let him go alone, Jen. And you’ll be fine without competing at Davie.”
“No,” Colt stated, stepping back.
Tammy followed and grabbed Colt’s vest. “Let her go with you. If for no other reason than to make sure you get there and back safely. There’s no way I’ll be able to focus tomorrow night knowing you’re dealing with this on your own.” She jerked her chin at Karla. “You traveling to Davie alone?”
Karla nodded.
“You mind me and Razz catching a ride with you? That way Jen can take Diamond with Colt. I’ll pitch in for gas and expenses.”
“Of course,” Karla said. “I’d be happy to help.”
Jen shook her head. “Tammy, this is not a good idea.”
“Jen’s right. I’ll be fine on my own.” Colt pulled free of Tammy and walked back into the arena.
Tammy hesitated, staring after Colt for a moment. Then she rushed to Jen, taking her forearms, hard and desperate. “You’ve got to do this for me, Jen. I’ll talk to him. He’ll be fine with it.”
“I know you’re worried,” she said gently. “But you heard him. He wants to go alone.”
“Colt wants to do a lot of things that aren’t good for him. And he usually does.” Tammy’s small smile died quickly. “But this is one time that I can’t let him. Please, Jen. I know him. He needs someone right now no matter what he says. Too much has happened for him to let me go back—” She bit her lip and waved a hand in the air. “There’s no way he’ll bend on letting me go, but he will for you.” She stepped forward, hugged Jen and whispered, “No matter what went down between you two, I know you care about him as much as I do. Colt and I are lucky we found you. You’re not just a friend to us. You’ve become family. I know you’ll take care of Colt and I know he needs you. It’s only for the weekend. So, please, do this for me.”
Something wet tickled Jen’s cheek. She rubbed it off on Tammy’s shoulder and huffed out a breath.
Tammy laughed and released her, brushing a new flood of tears from her face, too. “I may love you like a sister but that doesn’t mean you can use my shirt as a hanky.”
“That’s what you get for being so sappy.” Jen smiled, blinking hard to clear her vision. “I’ll go. But only if he agrees to it.”
“He will.” Tammy headed after Colt, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few minutes to help load up, Karla.”
Jen watched Tammy leave and felt the weight of Karla’s stare, her cheeks heating under her scrutiny. Jen glanced away and stood still as fellow racers laughed and climbed into their vehicles. Engines turned over and trucks began lining up on the paved road leading to the exit. No doubt once the night’s fun was had, they’d rise early tomorrow morning, hook up their trailers and head to the next event. Davie, most likely.
Jen looked down at the soggy beer label and picked at the corners. If she went with Colt, she’d miss the Davie Pro Rodeo. Lose an opportunity to gain a better advantage over her competitors. And she’d have to work that much harder to earn a ticket to Vegas when she returned.
Only, seeing Colt in pain had tied a knot in her chest that she didn’t think would disappear when she hit the alley at Davie.
“Tammy’s right.” Karla dragged the toe of her boot over the grass and shoved her hands in her pockets. “I’ve never seen Colt clam up like that before. It’s good you’re going with him.”
“Yeah,” Jen whispered. “It’s a good thing.”
She hoped it was. A couple days. That was all. She’d help Colt through this, then she’d plan a new schedule, get back on the road and hit the circuit again.
Aside from their recent falling out, Colt had always been a good friend to her. It was time for her to be a good friend to him. Just as long as she remembered being friends was all he wanted. And all she could afford to be.
Chapter Three (#u68137953-2a46-5392-ae76-442d22395b41)
Colt rubbed a hand over his gritty eyes and sat up straight in the driver’s seat. The entrance was close, about three blocks ahead. He’d know it as soon as he saw it. There’d be a broad metal gate, security checkpoint and endless paved driveway.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, cocking his head and straining for any abnormal sounds from the white trailer hitched to his truck. Diamond was quiet. Just as he had been the entire eight-hour drive from Kissimmee to Atlanta. It seemed he’d taken full advantage of the quiet night drive to sleep and wasn’t ready to start his Saturday morning yet.
“Where are we?”
Jen pushed up from her slumped position in the passenger’s seat, blinking slowly. The soft glow of the dashboard instruments was the only light in the dark stillness of the truck’s cab.
Colt managed a small smile before looking away. Jen had been quiet, too. She’d stopped her gentle attempts at conversation and gone to sleep six hours ago, after he’d refused her offer to drive. Desperate for a distraction, he’d held on to his position behind the wheel, focusing on the road instead of the burning ache in his throat.
He’d fought against Jen coming. Had argued with Tammy for a good ten minutes and made it clear that he preferred to make the trip alone. The fear of breaking down in front of Jen was as unsettling as the challenge he already faced. But Tammy had refused to budge, and he had to admit that traveling the dark stretch of the interstate had been less grueling with someone at his side.
Even if that someone had every right to be angry with him and every reason not to offer her support.
“Colt?” Jen thumbed her hat higher on her forehead, her brown eyes searching his face. “Where are we?”
His smile fell. “Tuxedo Park.”
Colt looked out the window at the streetlights underscoring the lush greenery lining the road. The urge to hit the brakes, swing the truck in the opposite direction and drive for days was strong. He wanted nothing more than to forget. To pretend last night hadn’t happened and return to the status quo. Imagine that he’d never gotten the call and learned—
He clutched the steering wheel tighter. That was one thing he couldn’t do. No amount of distractions could change the fact that his father and stepmother were gone. Or that Meg was now the only remaining member of his immediate family.
The entrance appeared. Tall trees and shrubs lined each side of it.
Colt slowed the truck, maneuvered the sharp turn and stopped at the gate. A guard leaned out of the security office’s entrance and waited for Colt to let down the window.
“Good morning, sir.” He swept a flashlight briefly through the interior of the cab, then over the trailer. “May I ask who you’re visiting?”
Colt didn’t recognize him. Not that he would recognize any of the staff after a seven-year absence. His father had consumed them like water, always finding fault with even the best employees and promptly trading them out for new ones.
Colt leaned to the side and dug in his back pocket for his wallet. “Meg Mead.”
“Is she expecting you?”
He winced. “Probably not.”
“May I see your identifi—” The guard stopped as Colt pressed his ID into his hand, then flicked his flashlight over it. “Thank you, Mr....” He glanced up, eyes widening. “Mr. Mead?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, sir.”
Colt nodded.
“I apologize, Mr. Mead, but...” The guard motioned toward the inside of the cab. “I’ll need to see—”
“Of course.” Colt glanced at Jen. “He needs your license, Red.”
Her brows raised but she murmured an assent, bending over to the floorboard and fishing her ID out of her purse. Colt took it and handed it over, watching as the man examined it, then flashed his light into the cab.
“Could you remove the hat, please, miss?”
Colt’s jaw tightened. Procedures. His father had insisted on them being followed to the letter. So much so that his expectations were still met despite the fact that he was as good as in the ground.
Jen removed the leather cowgirl hat, tucking it between her knees and brushing her red bangs back. The guard tipped the flashlight up, flooding Jen’s face. She squinted and shrank back against the door.
Colt hissed in a breath and threw up a hand to block the glare. “It’s fine. Open the gate.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard handed him the license, stepped back and buzzed the gates open, which swung out in wide arcs. Colt shifted gears, accelerating through them and heading down the winding, paved path ahead. They drove in silence for a few minutes, the headlights illuminating clusters of trees and healthy plants with bright, bountiful blooms on either side of the wide driveway.
Jen tossed her hat in the back of the extended cab and rubbed her palms over her jean-clad thighs. “Pretty intense security for a subdivision.”
“This isn’t a subdivision.” Colt pressed his foot harder on the pedal, plowing up the steep incline in front of them. “It’s my father’s house.”
She laughed, the sound short and nervous as she took in the thick foliage surrounding them. “There’s a house? Where?”
When they cleared the top of the hill, the sun broke over the surrounding trees, flooding the sprawling grounds with light.
Colt tipped his head toward the massive structure in front of them. “There.”
Jen stilled, lips parting. He followed her gaze and gritted his teeth as he surveyed the familiar estate. A French provincial–style mansion consisting of thirty-five thousand square feet of space, stables, theater, pool, tennis court and caretaker’s suite sat center stage on a manicured twenty-acre lot.
“That’s not a house,” she whispered.
Colt sighed. “I know.”
He guided the truck around the circular drive, rounded a large churning fountain and brought them to a halt. After cutting the engine, he glanced up to find Jen studying him.
Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing his features as though she didn’t recognize him. She turned her back to him and stared up at the massive flight of stairs that led to the double door entrance. “I wish Tammy were here.”
Her words were so soft he barely caught them. But he did.
He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing circumstances were different and that Tammy could be here, too. She kept him grounded. Reminded him of who he really was and, most importantly, who he didn’t want to become.
His gut roiled. The kind of person his father had been. The kind of person Jen had just searched for when she’d inspected his face. A pompous, entitled man who put his own desires above the needs of others.
“Why wouldn’t you let her come?” Jen asked, turning to him. “I mean, besides the race. I know that can’t be your only reason.”
Colt looked away and placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Tammy’s mom was my dad’s sister. My dad had basically disowned her. She’d blown all her money, lived hard and apparently wasn’t worth knowing anymore. Tammy’s dad and mine were both cruel. But where my dad just used his words, Tammy’s liked to use his fists. And her mom did nothing to stop it.”
The air grew thick and heavy in the cab. His throat closed and he swallowed, waiting for Jen to speak. When she didn’t, he forced himself to continue.
“Things got so bad, Tammy finally called me and asked for help. I was seventeen. A dumb kid, thinking if I brought Tammy here, my dad might actually man up and do something.” Colt tightened his grip on the wheel, his nails cutting into his palms. “Suffice it to say, he made it clear Tammy didn’t belong here. And I already knew I didn’t, either. So when I turned eighteen, I left and took Tammy with me.”
“How did you end up on the circuit?”
Hearing Jen’s shaky voice, Colt glanced over. The tear slipping from her dark lashes sent a stabbing pain through his chest.
“Riding bulls was a quick way to make money and I found out I was pretty good at it. Tammy knew horses and I made enough to set her up to race.” A bitter laugh burst from his lips. “We were both angry at the world in general. Riding bulls let me fight back and racing horses let Tammy run. Tammy wasn’t born tough. She was made that way. And there’s no way in hell I’d ever let her revisit what got her there.”
A soft sound escaped Jen. She leaned over and wrapped him in a hug.
A wave of soothing heat swept over him, causing his hands to dig into the silky fall of her hair and his body to hum. He longed to tug her closer, drive away and leave it all behind. But Meg needed him and his focus should be on her. Not Jen.
Colt held on for a few moments, then forced himself to let go, pull away and jerk his chin toward the main house.
“I might as well get this over with.”
Jen ducked her head, her cheeks flooding with color. She grabbed her purse and whispered, “I need to take care of Diamond before we go in.”
He nodded and opened his door, forcing himself to ignore the sudden desire to ease back into her comforting hold and explore her inviting mouth.
It took a few minutes to unload Diamond. By the time they’d managed it, a groundskeeper approached, offering assistance, and Jen reluctantly handed Diamond’s care over to a stable hand. Colt retrieved their overnight bags and they made their way up the steep flight of stairs to the front entrance, pausing two-thirds of the way to catch their breath.
“This is ridiculous,” Jen muttered, glancing below them at the truck.
Colt relieved her of her bag. “Too ridiculous.”
Her eyes locked with his and they both laughed, his rigid muscles relaxing and his pain easing. Thank God she was here.
A click sounded as a door swung open. Jen’s laughter died on her lips. Colt’s chuckle trailed away, too, and he turned to find a tall, slim woman standing in the open doorway. She stood motionless in a stiff-collared shirt and dark slacks, her only greeting a stern expression.
“Hey,” Colt called, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. “I’m here to see Meg Mead.”
“It’s a bit early for visitors,” the woman replied, tucking a stray gray hair back into her updo. “I’m Ms. Parks, Margaret’s nanny. May I have your name, please?”
Colt bit back a retort. His father’s strict protocols were always followed and it was routine for guests to be announced once they passed the outer gates. She’d known who he was long before his boots ever hit the driveway.
Forcing a polite smile, he climbed the last few stairs to the front door. “I’m Colt Mea—”
He jerked to a halt when they reached the landing.
The sharp glare of the sun’s rays shifted and he could just make out a young girl’s face peeking around the woman’s hip. Blond hair, brown eyes.
Colt’s chest burned. “Meg?” His voice emerged in a rasp and he set the bags down, clearing his throat.
“Margaret, I asked you to wait inside.” The woman reached behind her and tapped the child’s shoulder. “Since you’re here, you may as well come out and introduce yourself properly.”
The girl blinked, her guarded eyes moving from Colt to Jen and back, but made no move to step forward.
Colt dragged his clammy palms over his thighs. “Do you know who I am, Meg?”
She stepped around the woman and straightened, the top of her head barely reaching his waist. “No one calls me that.”
He let out a slow breath, his smile tentative. “I used to.”
Her small mouth tightened. “I don’t remember.”
Colt’s gut churned. Her frown was overly fierce and the tilt of her chin too pronounced. She kept cutting looks at Jen, brows drawing farther down.
“That’s okay,” he said gently. “I remember. I’m Colt. Your brother.”
His tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, the last word foreign and strange.
The woman at Meg’s side twisted her hands together and her nose wrinkled slightly.
“My name is Margaret.” Her fingers picked at the hem of her khaki skirt, which brushed the tops of her knees. “That’s what everyone calls me.”
Colt examined her as she shifted from foot to foot. Her shoes were a shocking hot pink, but she had on navy blue knee-highs and a matching collared shirt with an emblem.
His throat ached. “Are you on the way to school, Margaret?”
“No. I just got back. The driver doesn’t pick me up for weekends until six on Saturday mornings. I stay Friday night to take music lessons. We pay extra for private ones. Mr. Evans told me yesterday on the phone that Dad always said...” Her chin wobbled. “Mr. Evans said you can never get too far ahead. And that I shouldn’t miss a lesson, no matter what.”
Mr. Evans. Colt scoffed. Jack Evans. His father’s business partner.
Jen shifted at his side and touched her fingertips to her lips, features strained. Ms. Parks’s face flushed and she smoothed a hand over Meg’s blond curls.
A spark of anger lit in Colt’s gut. Ten years older than Colt, Jack had been a hanger-on from the moment he’d entered their lives, clawing his way into the family business and endearing himself as a second son. Enough so that he’d taken it upon himself to deliver the devastating news to Margaret. By phone, no less. Then hadn’t even bothered to bring her home early.
Colt shook his head. “Margar—”
“Who’s she?” Margaret stared at Jen, eyes flashing over her from head to toe.
“This is Jen Taylor. A friend of mine.”
Jen smiled, bent and offered her hand. “Hi, Margaret.”
“Hello.” Margaret kept her arms at her sides, looking down at her pink shoes for a moment before glancing back up. She surveyed Jen’s outstretched hand, then the other one, and squinted up at her. “What should I call you? Miss Taylor? Or Miss Jen?”
Jen shrugged, hand and smile dropping. “Whatever you want. Jen is fine.”
“Was that your horse they took to the stables?”
“Yes. His name’s Diamond.” Jen slipped her hands in her back pockets, her tone nervous. “You saw us pull up?”
Margaret nodded. “They always announce guests. I watched from the window.” She examined Jen again, her brown eyes narrowing on Jen’s jeans and clinging to the shiny rhinestones ringing the front pockets. “Those are some tight pants.”
“Margaret,” Ms. Parks admonished. “Your manners.”
Colt tensed. Nice effort. But the nanny’s disapproving glance at Jen proved she agreed with Margaret’s declaration.
“I’m sorry,” Margaret muttered. “But they are some tight pants.”
Jen’s mouth twitched and she gestured to Margaret’s feet, smile returning. “Those are some bright shoes.” She winked, adding softly, “I like them. A lot.”
Margaret nibbled on her bottom lip, digging the toe of her right sneaker into the doormat and dodging Jen’s gaze.
Colt lowered himself to his knees and nudged her chin up with a knuckle. “I’m sorry, Margaret.”
“For what?” she mumbled, still looking down.
He grimaced. “For Dad and Rach—”
“Why?” Her eyes shot to his face, narrowing to slits. “She wasn’t your mother. She was mine.”
His breath caught at the reminder. Rachel had been his third stepmother. And hadn’t cared for him any more than the other two. “I know.”
“She was mine,” she repeated, rosebud mouth trembling.
Her lashes spilled over and a large tear slipped down each cheek, dripping off her chin and plopping onto her shirt. Colt’s body felt heavy. But he lifted his arms, drawing Margaret close and enfolding her in a loose embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning down and brushing a kiss across her cheek.
She jumped and shoved him back, scrubbing her hands across her face. “That hurts.”
Colt held up shaky hands. “What?”
“That.” She jabbed a finger at his chin.
He blinked and touched his jaw, the stubble of his beard rough against his fingertips.
“You came for the house, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here.” Margaret jerked her chin at Jen. “That’s why she’s here. Mr. Evans said Dad left it to us and that you’d come for it.”
Margaret had composed herself again. There were no more tears. No chin wobble. Just a defiant, judgmental expression. So like their father’s. The pain in Colt’s chest flooded his veins, coursing in hot streaks through his body.
“Where is Jack, Ms. Parks?”
“Mr. Mead,” the nanny said, stepping between them. “Perhaps it’s best if—”
“Where—” Colt gritted his teeth “—is he?”
“In Dad’s study.” Margaret nodded. “He said you’d come.”
“Wait here, Red.” Colt stood and eased around Margaret, taking long strides across the foyer.
“Colt?” Jen’s voice shook.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. A worried shadow lurked in Jen’s eyes as they swept over his frame.
“I’ll just be a minute.” He softened his tone. “Promise.”
She didn’t look convinced. Colt spun and made his way down the long corridor, finding the marble floor and walls as cold and hard as he remembered them. He gripped the thick handles of the wide double doors leading to his father’s study and shoved them open.
Jack Evans sat behind a massive, ornate desk. His dark head was bent over a pile of scattered files and folders, and the shiny pen he held flashed under the lamplight with each movement of his hand.
“Making yourself at home?”
Jack stilled. He clicked the pen, placed it on the desk and rose. “Colt.”
He looked the same. Lean. Polished. Professional. And as bland as the slate-gray suit and tie he wore.
“It’s good to see you,” Jack said, sliding his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
Slick bastard. Words were the cheapest thing in this high-priced mansion.
Jack hesitated at the silence, dipping his head and saying, “It’s a difficult time for all of us.”
“Yeah.” Colt sneered. “I can see you’re all torn up about it.”
Jack jerked his hands from his pockets. “Really? This is where we’re going to start?” He straightened his tie, tucking it beneath the edge of his jacket. “Picking right back up where you left off, aren’t you?”
“What? By being honest? That’s the only way I operate.” A hard smile stretched Colt’s cheeks. “I’m sure the concept’s alien to you.”
“Cut the shit, Colt.” Jack shook his head. “You haven’t come by anything honestly. Don’t have a clue what it’s like to work to the bone for something. You were born into all of this.”
“Not everything’s about money,” Colt bit out.
Jack’s laugh grated across the room. “It sure as hell isn’t to those who haven’t earned it.” He leaned forward, his palms on the desk. “Those of us that sweat blood for it have a greater respect for its value. You think this place materialized overnight? It took generations to build this estate and it’ll take several more to ensure its survival.”
“And you’re the man to see to it, right?”
“I’m the only one that can.” His brows rose. “What? You want to do it? Think you can waltz in here after seven years, step into Daddy’s shoes and make it happen?” He shoved himself off the desk. “It doesn’t work like that, Colt. You might own the place now but you’re no one out there—where it counts.”
Colt balled his fists. “And Margaret? She counts as no one, too? That’s why you didn’t even bother to deliver the news of her parents’ death in person?”
Jack brushed a hand over his upper lip. “She was at school. The headmistress was with her. What else could I have done? There were important business matters that had to be tended to. Things your father worked hard for. You know as well as I do how much he would’ve wanted me to finish them. Remember his mantra?” His jaw hardened. “No matter what.”
Colt’s gut roiled, the taste of bile rising at the back of his throat. He eyed Jack, uncurled his fists and shook his head. “How lucky Margaret is to have you.”
Jack hissed in a breath and rounded the desk. “You sanctimonious, condescending little prick.” His voice rose. “Where the hell were you, huh? Cruising through every Podunk spot on the map? Riding bulls and women? You couldn’t even be bothered to answer your damned phone last night when I called.”
Colt flinched. Heat singed his face and chest.
“She’s your sister.” Jack scoffed. “Not mine. But I was the one left to deal with it. Hell, I couldn’t get a single soul with her blood running through their veins to respond to my calls. Your grandmother’s the only one I managed to reach and she’s on a European tour. It took me an hour and a hefty support check to convince her to collect Margaret when she returns next month.”
“Next month? Who’s looking after her till then?”
A snide expression crossed Jack’s face. “Should be you. Your father designated you as her legal guardian in his will.”
Colt’s stomach dropped. “What?”
Legal guardian? The old man must’ve overlooked that detail when he signed off on the document. There was no way Colt was fit to be any kid’s guardian. Especially Meg’s.
“That’s got to be a mistake.” He held up a hand. “There’s no way... I can’t—”
“I figured as much.” Jack straightened. “I’ve already made arrangements with the school. She stays there during the week. Your father and Rachel had her picked up on weekends, though they didn’t always hang around to greet her when she arrived. People are paid to do that, and God knows, it costs enough. The headmistress has agreed to board her full-time at the end of next week. Right after spring break. There’s a nanny and enough staff here to meet her needs until then.” He gestured to the stack of papers on the desk. “Once you sign these documents, your grandmother will take over responsibility for her. Thank God money matters to most people. Otherwise, Margaret would end up being a worthless aggravation. As it is, money’s the only thing that’s going to ensure a solid future for her.”
Colt’s legs grew weak and his shoulders sagged.
Jack smiled, flashing bright white teeth. “Aw, buck up, boy. You’ll be back to groping bulls and beauties in no time.”
“That’s enough.”
Jen’s voice, quiet but firm, sounded at Colt’s back. She stood in the entrance, pulling the doors closed and fixing her eyes on Jack.
“Margaret’s right down the hall,” she said. “This place echoes like a museum and your voice carries.”
Jack’s smile morphed into a slow grin as his gaze drifted over Jen. “You must’ve changed course, Colt. Don’t think you picked this one up in Podunk. Though I doubt you found her in Tuxedo Park, either.”
Colt stiffened, his skin prickling.
Jack held out a hand. “Charmed.”
Jen made no move to take it. “I’m not.”
Jack’s eyes flared and he cut a look at Colt. “Fiery piece of ass, is she?”
The crack as his fist met Jack’s face was enough to sharpen Colt’s focus. Jen yanked at his biceps, attempting to dislodge his grip from around Jack’s neck.
“Let him go, Colt.” Jen’s low words barely overcame the roaring in his ears.
His gut heaved on a renewed surge of pain and disgust. For his dead father. For the ambitious fool stretched across the desk beneath him. And for himself.
“Colt.” Jen sobbed, her mouth moving against the skin of his neck. “Please. Margaret could come in. You want her to see this?”
A wave of remorse flooded him. Colt let Jack go, hanging his head.
“I might be no one out there.” Colt struggled to suck in air, lungs stinging just as they did every time he conquered a bull in the arena. “But in here, I own you.” His eyes burned as he glared at Jack’s crumpled form. “Now get the hell out.”
Jack turned over, braced his palms on the desk and struggled to a standing position. He cupped a hand over his nose. Blood seeped between his fingers, trickling over his smile and onto his tie.
“You might not have a taste for money, Colt, but you sure as hell have one for power.” Jack laughed, wincing as the sound left his lips. “You’re more like your father than you think.”
Colt froze.
The doors closed behind Jack with a sharp click.
Jen touched his back. “Colt—”
He jerked away, moving on weak legs to the window and almost choking on the words tearing from his throat. “Margaret heard? Everything?”
“No,” she said. “But more than you would’ve wanted her to.”
And more than he’d have wanted Jen to hear, too.
Colt cringed, looking away from her faint reflection in the glass and down at the extensive grounds below him. The pristine gardens, sparkling pool and spacious tennis court were all beautiful. But barren and lifeless. Just like John W. Mead.
You’re more like your father than you think.
Colt sucked his teeth. To hell with Jack Evans and his arrogant declarations. Colt was nothing like his father. And never would be.
“We’re leaving,” he growled. “Right after the funerals tomorrow.”
The words were easy. They rolled off his tongue with finality. But they left a hollow in his gut. One that made him wonder if he could actually follow through.
What kind of man would leave a little girl behind? Allow her to fade into empty surroundings, forgotten and unseen?
Colt frowned, stilling his thoughts and avoiding the answer. But it whispered through his mind just the same.
Men like Jack Evans. Men like John W. Mead.
Chapter Four (#u68137953-2a46-5392-ae76-442d22395b41)
Jen had never seen so much green in her life. It covered everything.
“Perfect.” Mac, an older stable hand with a kind face and friendly voice, propped his hands on his hips. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Yeah,” Jen breathed.
She glanced around, taking in the sprawling acres of lush grass and the thick lines of trees forming a boundary on both sides of the wide pasture. If there was ever a paradise for horses, the riding grounds on the Mead estate were it.
“He fast?”
Jen glanced at Mac, squinting through the sharp rays of late afternoon sunlight. “What?”
“Your horse.” He jerked his chin toward the field where Diamond had been frolicking for the past hour, pearl hide flashing through a sea of green. “He’s a fine specimen. But is he fast?”
She cocked a brow and grinned. “What do you think?”
Mac chuckled, his leathery cheeks lifting and white teeth gleaming. “I think if we let those pampered ponies out of the stable, he’d trample ’em just on principle.”
Jen laughed with him, dropping her head back and soaking up the fading warmth of the day. It’d been nice to get out of that marbled mansion for a few hours. Colt’s father’s estate was void of any true warmth. Only cold corners and empty hallways could be found in that monster of a house.

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