Roxann Delaney

The Rodeo Rider


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      “Shawn is Tanner’s nephew, Jules,” Beth said. “His brother’s boy.”

      “Oh. I suppose I should’ve asked.”

      Tanner couldn’t contain the laughter any longer. “And I guess I’m supposed to have a wife tucked away somewhere.”

      “I thought…I didn’t…”

      “It’s okay,” he told her with a grin. “There are some people around here who don’t have a high opinion of me.” He shot a look at Beth and turned back to Jules. “No reason to be afraid of Temptation there. He looks rowdier than he is, and Shawn keeps a tight rein on him.”

      “I don’t doubt that.”

      But she didn’t look convinced, and that had him wondering. “You don’t like horses?”

      “Not everyone is horse crazy, Tanner,” Beth said quickly. “That may be your area of expertise, but not everyone’s.”

      “It’s okay, Beth,” Jules said. “As they say, it takes all kinds. He may think I don’t know the front of a horse from its backside, but as I’ve told him, I do. And I’m sure I know more about the finer points of law than Mr. O’Brien does.”

      Tanner recognized the soft dig and acknowledged it with a smile. “You’ve got me there, Miss Vandeveer. But we’re all open to a little learning, aren’t we?”

      She hesitated before answering, “Yes, of course.”

      Something about the way she glanced at Beth told him there was something wrong. She didn’t strike him as a woman who was afraid of anything. She could certainly hold her own in a verbal sparring match with him, and he admired that.

      “Are you sure you don’t want to get to know Temptation, Jules?” Shawn asked, joining them. “Or we could saddle another horse for you.”

      Her face paled and she shook her head. “Thanks, Shawn, but I’ll pass on the riding. I appreciate your offer, though.”

      “I just thought—”

      Beth broke in. “We have another stop, and then some wedding things to do, so Jules and I should be going.”

      “Thanks for the help, Beth,” Tanner said, following the two women to the Jeep. He wondered what it was that neither of them wanted to talk about, but decided it wasn’t any of his business. Whatever had Jules Vandeveer scared of horses didn’t have anything to do with him. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about her.

      “She’s a nice lady,” Shawn announced as the two women drove away.

      “You like her, huh?” Tanner looked down at the mirror image of his younger brother.

      “Yeah, she’s all right. She even said she used to ride.”

      The smile Tanner was feeling disappeared. “She said what?”

      “She used to ride,” Shawn repeated. “But maybe she thinks I can’t handle Temptation. He threw me off while she was watching.”

      Tanner glanced up to see the dust from the Jeep settle along the road. “If that’s what she thinks, she’s wrong.”

      “Yeah, she is.”

      Shawn’s confident smile was enough for Tanner. He couldn’t be prouder of the boy and his expertise with horses. “Guess we’d better get some work done,” he told his nephew. “Go see what Rowdy has for you to do.”

      Shawn’s mouth turned down in a scowl. “Whatever.”

      Tanner sighed as he watched the boy walk toward the barn. Just when he thought things might be getting better, they turned sour again. Weary of dealing with it, he started on the day’s chores.

      But hard work didn’t put his problems with Shawn in the background. While he fixed fence, checked the pastures for water and did the dozen other things that came naturally to a rancher, his mind seldom strayed from the teenager. Even the distracting memory of a pair of green eyes lit with fire couldn’t chase away his concern.

      Supper proved to be a relatively quiet meal, with Shawn still pouting. Aunt Bridey had tried to draw the boy out, but Shawn remained silent. When he’d finished his meal, the boy had flung himself out the door. Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to try to talk to him again, Tanner retreated to his office. Ranching required tons of paperwork, from feed schedules to vet reports, and Tanner found them almost relaxing after a day of hard physical labor.

      “I see you’re at that confounded machine.”

      Tanner looked up from his computer to see his stocky, bowlegged ranch foreman standing in the doorway of the wood-paneled study. “You ought to learn how to use this thing.”

      Rowdy Thompson ambled into the room and took a seat on an old leather chair across the desk from Tanner. “Naw, you enjoy it too much. I don’t want to weasel in on your fun.”

      Tanner chuckled and rolled his chair back to prop a booted foot on the desk. “It helps with the number crunching.”

      “That’s your department,” Rowdy answered in his usual gruff way.

      Tanner smiled to himself. Rowdy might like people to think he was a dumb old coot, but Tanner knew better. With a degree in animal science, the older man didn’t want for smarts. He’d saved the Rocking O plenty of times with his know-how. Tanner often marveled that Rowdy had stayed with them for so long, but he’d learned years before not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

      Rowdy took a cigar from the humidor on the desk and bit off the end. “Shawn seems to be getting more crotchety by the day.” He struck a match and puffed on the end of the stogie to light it. “Maybe if you’d gone on to the bigger rodeos like you should have, things wouldn’t be so bad with him.”

      The smell of imported cigar drifted through the room as Tanner frowned. “You and I already discussed this. If I’d traipsed all over the country like we’d planned, things would probably be worse. I wouldn’t have been here. By keeping to the smaller ones close to home, he’s been able to go along with me, and that’s what’s important.”

      Rowdy chewed on the cigar, a thoughtful expression on his weathered face. “You’re putting your life on hold for a swell-headed kid. You need to be making the PRCA rounds, not dinkin’ around with these little dirt rodeos.”

      Tanner nodded. “That’s your opinion, Rowdy, and you’re welcome to it. But circuit rodeos aren’t little dirt rodeos, and you know it. They count for Professional Rodeo Cowboy’s Association. I can make it to Finals either way. But I’m responsible for that boy. I’m his guardian. He’s not going to run off at the age of fifteen like his daddy did. Even if it means I have to give up rodeo.”

      Rowdy replied with a grunt. “Damn foolish thing that would be with your talent. You’ll be running this ranch on your own if you do that.”

      Tanner knew Rowdy wouldn’t desert him, no matter what course his life might take. But if his foreman wanted to put in his opinion, Tanner wouldn’t argue the point. “Maybe by the time school starts again in the fall, things will have changed for the better.”

      “We can sure hope so.” Rowdy flicked cigar ash into an ashtray and gave Tanner a stern look. “You’re not gettin’ any younger.”

      As far as rodeo went, nothing was closer to the truth, Tanner knew, but he forced a grin. “I’ve got a few years left.”

      Rowdy grunted before grinding out the cigar and leaving Tanner to his thoughts.

      One more year. If he could have one more year, maybe he could reach that brass ring—and have a gold Nationals championship buckle to show for it. That and Shawn were what he needed to stay focused on. Not a woman with golden hair and green eyes who had nothing in common with him except a quick mind and a glib tongue.

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