A Saddle Made For Two

With a wide grin on her face, Ellie held up a large, brass cowbell. She gave him a push toward the door. “I’ll tie it on the doorknob. If anybody dares to touch that door during the night, I’ll be up in a flash.”

Considering how hard he’d had to knock, Chace doubted a shotgun blast would be enough to wake her, but he kept his opinion to himself. His truck was parked close enough that if the bell did ring, there’d be enough commotion to rouse him.

Her hand at his back, she gave him another shove. “Go on. Try it. But give me a second to get it tied on.”

Clamping his mouth shut on the protest he knew she’d argue with, he stepped out into the quiet night and took a deep breath. Crisp air filled his lungs as he heard the far-from-melodic clunk of the bell hitting the door as it closed behind him.

“Okay, try it,” she said from the other side.

He turned around and grabbed the knob, shaking it gently.

Clang. Clang.

The door opened a crack, and she peeked out at him, the bell jangling loud enough to wake the dead. “It works!” Her smile dimmed. “I guess I owe you…again.”

“It was your idea,” he reminded her.

She opened the door wider, her smile turning grateful. “Yeah, it was. But thanks for checking on the door. I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t shown me.”

He gazed at a figure that had to be a stretch to make five feet. His fingers itched to dip into the soft, buttery waves framing her face. Her features were as diminutive as the rest of her, except for the full, lush lips of her wide mouth and her enormous brown eyes. “My pleasure…again.”

He made his way back to his truck, wondering how such a pint-size woman could cause the way-too-tight fit of his jeans. Hell, he was thirty-three years old. Old enough to be her…A dozen words crossed his mind— brother, uncle, cousin—but only one stuck. Lover.

“Forget it, Brannigan. She’s a kid,” he reminded himself while he checked his roping horse and Ray’s. But his body told him she was a woman, in spite of her childlike size.

In the back of his pickup, he pulled his boots off and stretched out on the empty bedroll next to his buddy. Ignoring the snores, he folded his arms behind his head and studied the star-studded black sky. The night air held a definite chill he hoped would cool the flames licking at him. He needed to get his mind back on the business of rodeo. He’d never been responsible for anyone but himself. He’d be crazy to get involved with anything other than winning those buckles and saving his family’s ranch, the Triple B—especially a woman.

Hell’s bells, he thought with a sigh and a silent chuckle. What would the minibundle of trouble bring next?

The sound of pounding and a cowbell ringing jerked Ellie to a sitting position. With luck, she narrowly missed hitting her head on the low ceiling of the over-the-cab bed.

“What in tarnation is that awful racket?” joined the clanging of the bell.

A smile twisted Ellie’s mouth at the sound of the female voice announcing the identity of her visitor. “Hang on a sec, Reba.”

The noise ceased as she scrambled from her loft. She reached the door and opened it to offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”

A head of garish red hair preceded the plump, middle-aged woman into the camper. Her suspicious gaze landed on Ellie. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“It’s a long story.”

Shoving back the too-long sleeves of the pajamas she’d snitched from one of her brothers, Ellie tried to decide the best way to explain the bell without going into details. Until she could wake up completely and come to terms with what had happened last night and her ridiculous reaction to the cowboy, she didn’t want to say too much.

Reba Tucker, kindhearted soul that she was, wouldn’t take the news of the snake lightly. The woman had traveled the rodeo circuit with her steer-roper husband for too many years to let the incident slide by with nothing more than a comment or two. No, Reba would make a big fuss over it, and Ellie didn’t want to deal with a hysterical mother hen.

And she didn’t want to mention Chace Brannigan. That’s all Reba would need to set her off on her favorite topic: Cowboys Make Great Husbands. Nate Tucker might be among the best of spouses, but Ellie didn’t want a man who had Wrangler across his butt, or Justin’s on his feet and a Stetson on his head. She didn’t particularly want any man. She’d never needed one yet.

Dragging her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair, Ellie sighed. “I noticed the lock on my door isn’t working right. Until I can have it checked out, the cowbell is a great alarm.”

Reba crossed her arms on her ample chest and leaned one hip against the counter. “That’s it? Dang, girl, all you had to do was say somethin’ to Nate. He’d have skedaddled as fast as a rabbit with a hound dog on his tail to the nearest hardware store and had you snugged up like a baby in a blanket in no time.”

With a grateful smile, Ellie steered the conversation away from her jerry-rigged alarm system. “Is Nate riding in Phoenix?”

Reba nodded. “We’re planning to stop at Laura’s for a day to see my new grandbaby. You gonna compete after the cutoff date for Finals?”

“I may stop at the ranch. I can get some practice in there. And it may be the last time I get to see the place.”

Reba’s mouth settled into a frown. “It’s your home, girl. Yours and your brothers. You aren’t still plannin’ to sell it, are you?”

But it hadn’t been her home since she’d left it six years ago, when Matt turned eighteen, to travel the rodeo circuit. She had only returned when it was absolutely necessary, avoiding the memories she had trouble dealing with. She refused to let the ranch take her brothers’ lives as it had their parents’. Once it was sold, maybe she could finally escape the past.

Gripping the edge of the counter with one hand, she gathered her determination. “I’m selling. There won’t be any more working themselves into an early grave.”

Reba placed her hand on Ellie’s. “That was a freak accident that took your folks. That sorta thing don’t happen—”

“Ranching is a back-breaking, money-sucking way of life.” Ellie pulled away as gently as possible and shoved aside the painful memory of her parents. She couldn’t bear to think about the accident except to remind her that she had to make sure nothing like it would ever happen to the boys.

“They’re adults, Ellie. Let them make their own decisions.”

“I know that. I finished raising them after the folks—” Ellie stopped and took a deep breath. “I know the dangers of ranching. I can’t let anything happen to them. Especially after Matt broke his collarbone last year. It could’ve been worse. Much worse.”

“You weren’t even lookin’ to sell the place,” Reba pointed out as she’d done several times.

Ellie sighed and looked away. It was turning into the same old tiresome argument. Reba couldn’t see the dangers she did. There were too many things that could happen to her brothers on the ranch. And too many memories for her. Next, Reba would ask what she planned to do. Other than move to the city, she didn’t have an answer. Getting the boys off the ranch came first. After that, she’d worry about how to support herself. If she could qualify for National Finals, she might make enough money to see her way clear. For a while.

“I guess I’d better get the trailer hooked up,” she said without looking at her friend. “It’s past time to get on the road.”

“Nate’s probably wonderin’ where I’ve got off to,” Reba said, letting the subject drop, and turned for the door. “You take care until Phoenix. We’ll see you there.”

“You bet.”

When Reba had gone, Ellie opened the closet door to reach for a towel. Catching her reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door, she stared at the image looking back at her and grimaced.

“No wonder Chace Brannigan was gawking at you last night,” she announced to the rumpled figure before her. Turning sideways, she grabbed at the back of the excess pajama fabric to pull it tight across her body and scrutinized the effect.

With a disgusted grunt, she released the material. What did she care if she didn’t have the kind of curves men panted over?

She quickly changed into her clothes from the night before and grabbed a clean set, ready to hit the showers and eager to get on the road. But when she pushed open the camper door, the first thing she saw was the cowboy who’d rescued her the night before. He was obviously headed for the showers, a towel draped around his neck.

When he didn’t look her way, she breathed a sigh of relief and ducked into the camper. Ignoring the clippity-clop of her heart, she waited until she felt safe to leave.

She wasn’t interested in a cowboy, couldn’t be, even if he was the current leading saddle bronc rider in the country and sexy as sin, to boot. She knew all about his kind. She’d met too many “my way or no way” cowboys. Hadn’t she proven she could do it alone? Besides, rodeoers ended up on ranches. She wanted desperately to leave the past and that kind of life behind. Nothing would stop her. And she didn’t need anyone’s help. The sooner she got on the road, the sooner she could put some distance between herself and one particular, bossy cowboy.

Chapter Two

Bleary-eyed from too little sleep, Chace let the stinging spray of the primitive shower near the arena clear the fog from his brain. To his disgust, his sharper mind left him with vivid memories of the night before.

“Hell,” he muttered when his body began to spring to life. He’d spent half the night listening for the clang of a bell and the other half considering a cold shower. There were other remedies for his problem. One idea, which included hauling a particular petite package into his arms, he promptly discarded. Reviewing every millisecond of his latest ride in his mind would be safer. And damn sure more productive.

Dressed again and whistling an off-key tune, he started for his truck. As soon as Ray returned with a thermos of coffee, they’d be on the road. With barely a month to go until the official end of the season, Chace was eager to get to Phoenix. After that, only a few more rodeos until National Finals. Then, if everything went well, he could retire. The money he hoped to win would keep the Triple B Ranch in the black and put an end to worrying about losing it. That, and stop his youngest brother’s plans to turn the family spread into a dude ranch. Hell, he didn’t want strangers traipsing all over the place.

Once back home again, he could begin to make up for leaving Trey to deal with the ranch on his own. Maybe they’d even get lucky enough to entice their brother, Dev, to come home. Working together, they could keep it out of the wrong hands and make the place the successful ranch it had once been. Four generations of Brannigans had owned and worked the Triple B, and he and his brothers had fought to keep it after their father’s death. He knew he belonged there. He’d ducked his responsibilities for too long.

Wide awake, and with his hormones under control and well leashed, Chace didn’t bother to steer clear of Ellie’s camper. But he didn’t expect to find temptation in a tank top as she leaned over to hook her horse trailer to her pickup, offering him a much better glimpse than the pajama top had the previous night.

“Hell and damnation,” he grumbled, knowing that’s exactly what he was in for if she didn’t straighten up and change the view.

To his relief, she moved, but only to the opposite side of the trailer hitch, giving him an eyeful of worn denim stretched tight across the best-looking little backside he’d seen in a long time. It was even better without the pajama horses galloping across it. The sight pulled a tortured groan from him. If he had any sense, he’d turn around and walk back to his truck and forget all about it. But his feet wouldn’t move away any faster than his eyes.

As he watched her wrestle with the coupling, he clenched his hands into fists. He had to do something besides stand there with his tongue hanging out like a panting dog. When she gave the bumper an angry kick, he moved into action.

“I’ll get it,” he growled.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide but narrowing as he closed the gap between them. “I can do it,” she announced, giving him her back and bending over again.

Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead when he stopped behind her. All he had to do was take hold of those mind-blowing curves and pull her up against him. He placed his hands on her hips, but forced himself to scoot her aside. “Let me do it.”

“It’s my rig,” she said in a tight voice from behind him while he gave the hitch a nudge.

“And it’ll be your smashed fingers,” he replied, snapping the ball cover in place. He turned to find her slipping into a faded chambray shirt and noticed her hands tremble as she fought the buttons.

Anger? He hoped not. He wanted to have the same effect on her that she had on him. It would serve her right.

With her head down and her face hidden from view, her fingers fumbled with the last button. “I’ve been managing my own truck and trailer for almost ten years, since I was old enough to drive. I’ve hooked them up thousands of times.”

He detected a tremor in her voice, but when her head came up and she looked at him, he saw the flash of defiance in her eyes. Damn, she was one stubborn woman.

“Look, Brannigan, I appreciate what you did for me last night, but I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Just let me get loaded and on the road.” She did a quick pivot and marched to untie her horse from the back of a nearby truck.

He moved out of her way and leaned back against the side of the trailer, watching in silence as she loaded her horse into her trailer with the skill of a seasoned professional. Maybe she didn’t need his help now, but without it the night before, no telling what she would have done. Her gentle handling of her horse proved she wasn’t as tough as she might want him to believe. And the stubborn tilt of her chin as she stomped past him to the cab of her truck didn’t erase the memory of the terror he’d seen in her eyes the previous night. It only aggravated him.

He stalked to the truck’s door, reaching it as she slammed it shut with such force it could have registered on the Richter Scale. Planting his hands on the edge where the window was rolled down, he leaned in, his face inches from hers. “You may not want my help, but you sure as hell need it.”

A red flush flooded her cheeks, and her chin went up another notch. “Get your face out of my truck,” she said in a haughty tone.

“Now look here, little bit, I got rid—”

“Don’t!” The crimson shade of her face went deathly pale. Tears glistened in her dark eyes, and she squeezed them shut. “Don’t ever call me that.”

Reaching in, he cradled her cheek in his hand. “Aw, hon, I didn’t mean to—”

“Leave me alone,” she whispered. “Please.” When her lids fluttered open, she turned her head, slipping away from him, and she reached for the ignition. Gunning the motor, she slammed the truck into gear, spewing dirt behind her tires and nearly taking his head and hand with her.

Chace stood staring after her. What the hell had he done? Was his touch so repulsive to her? No, it hadn’t been that. He’d felt her lean into his palm, felt her tremble in his hand. Then dammit, why would she shake him off like water on a wet dog?

He made his way to his own truck and trailer, cursing himself for caring when she obviously wasn’t interested. He’d forget about her by the time he got to Phoenix.

But once on the road, he found it harder than he’d thought to rid himself of her reaction to his touch and his body’s response. Five hundred miles later, with Ray jabbering away the entire trip, Chace wished he’d asked her where she’d be riding next. He had a few questions, when and if he caught up with her. And he’d damn well get some answers.

Ellie pulled her rig in behind the arena near Phoenix just after noon on Friday. She’d made good time, but a week on the road, even though she hadn’t rushed, left her exhausted. Sometimes it was more tiring than the competing.

Each weekend she competed somewhere, earning or not earning enough to place among the top fifteen money winners by the end of the season. Only those placing qualified for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, held the first week of each December. As soon as she finished in Phoenix, she’d head for Austin to do the same thing again. And again, until she hopefully made it to Finals. There would be a month break before that first week in December, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. This time she couldn’t avoid going home.

Home. Ellie sighed and climbed out of her pickup to check on Sky Dancer, thinking of that long month in Oklahoma looming ahead. The thought brought back the old panic and guilt. But she didn’t have a choice. She loved her two brothers and wanted to see them both happy. And safe. Alive and not old before their time. It would take getting them off the ranch to do that. And that meant selling the place, no matter what they thought they wanted. She knew best. Now that she had a prospective buyer, she only had to convince Matt and Brett to sign the papers.

After securing her camper with the new lock she’d had installed, she took Sky Dancer out of the trailer. Her boots kicked up dust in the dry grass as she worked. Rain had been scarce in the area, but from previous experience she knew the arena was well tended. She could concentrate on her riding.

She saddled and bridled Sky Dancer to give him some exercise and herself a welcome break from being behind the wheel. Seeing Reba and Nate’s truck and trailer pull into the lot, she reminded herself to stop on the way back to say howdy. Rodeoers were like a close-knit family. But after spending over half her life competing, she wanted a change—new faces, new experiences. That was for the future. All she wanted for the moment was to relax and ease the knots from her shoulders. Her ride tonight wouldn’t be worth spit if she couldn’t loosen up.

When she’d put enough distance between herself and the parking area, she urged Sky Dancer into a gallop. It should have done the trick, but she couldn’t get a particular cowboy out of her mind. The touch of his hand on her cheek had brought a comfort she’d almost forgotten existed, until she’d realized how weak and vulnerable it made her. She couldn’t allow it. She’d been on her own since raising her brothers— a job she’d finished without help from anyone. She couldn’t start needing someone now, not when she was so close.

By the time she returned to the campgrounds, it was well past two. Hoping to catch Reba, she guided Sky Dancer to the Tuckers’ trailer.

Before she could dismount, Reba appeared in the doorway. “You made good time.”

“How was Laura?”

“Busy.” Reba wiped her hands on her jeans and frowned. “Timmy and little Sally were stayin’ with friends, and the new baby was colicky. Wouldn’t even let me hold him.”

Ellie felt her friend’s disappointment. “Next time he’ll be better.”

With a hopeful smile Reba dug into her pockets and sighed when her hands came up empty. “I’m out of ice, and I always have a glass of cold tea ready for Nate ’fore he heads out for the evenin’. Would you mind gettin’ me a bag at the concession stand?”

“Not at all,” Ellie replied.

“Let me fetch some money.” Reba ducked back inside.

While Ellie waited, the area filled with a variety of vehicles, and she waved to the people she recognized. When a hand rested on her thigh, she nearly bolted from her saddle, spooking Sky Dancer and forcing her to concentrate on calming him.

“Get the door fixed?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

Her heartbeat accelerated as she turned to look down at Chace Branningan. “Are you following me?”

His grin was enough to melt the polar ice cap. “Nope. Didn’t know we were destined to run into each other so soon.”

“Disappointed?” she asked, and watched an assortment of emotions cross his face.

Pure devilment won out to dance in his eyes. “Miss me?”

Ellie wasn’t about to admit she’d thought of little else other than him and the sale of the ranch over the six days she’d spent on the road. “I completely forgot we met.”

The light in his eyes flashed, and he shot her a devilish grin. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

“A ten-pound bag shouldn’t be more than—” Reba’s voice halted, and Ellie turned in the saddle to look at her. Her gray-eyed gaze drifted to Chace and back again to Ellie, and her mouth turned up in a Cheshire Cat smile. “I’ll get the ice.”

“No,” Ellie said in a rush and turned to scowl at Chace. “Mr. Brannigan was just leaving.” Having Reba see them together, no matter how innocent, was a bad idea. No telling what the woman might get in her head.

“Haven’t seen you for a while, Chace,” Reba said, her grin widening. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.

He looked at Ellie and offered another knee-weakening grin before turning back to Reba. “I had the pleasure of meeting her last week in Cedar Rapids.”

“Really? In that case, why don’t I fix us all lunch tomorrow and you can get better acquainted. Say at noon?”

With a grin, he touched the brim of his hat. “That sounds mighty fine.”

Ellie shot her friend a murderous look. He was the last person she wanted to spend time with. “I’ll be there if I can make it,” she hedged. “Keep your money, Reba. I’ll get the ice.”

Without a glance at Chace, she nudged her horse toward the concession stand. Behind her, she could hear his soft chuckle, and she tightened her grip on the reins. Her day had taken a turn for the worst when he’d shown up. She hadn’t expected to see him again, and with the season nearly over, the thought had both cheered and disappointed her. That alone was enough to worry her.

Her wait in line at the concession stand was blessedly short, and she added two candy bars, knowing Reba’s penchant for chocolate.

Balancing the bag of ice on the saddle horn in front of her with one hand and holding the reins in the other, she wove her way through the gathering groups toward the Tuckers’ trailer. She called a greeting over her shoulder to one of the other barrel racers, wishing her luck, and turned back when Sky Dancer came to a sudden halt.

Chace stood at the horse’s head, holding the bridle and murmuring to the animal. Ellie opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, but when he looked at her, the words escaped her.

“Trying to avoid me?”

She knew she lacked the subtlety of most women, and his question brought the heat of embarrassment to her cheeks. “N-no, of course not.”

Smoothing his hand along the horse’s neck, Chace moved closer, never taking his eyes from hers. “What did I do to scare you off?”

Lifting her chin, she gripped the saddle horn and squeezed the ice, barely noticing the chill. It wasn’t him that scared her, but what he did to her. She’d never met a man who could scramble her senses with a simple smile. And she’d met plenty of men, rodeo being a predominantly male sport. But no matter how much Chace made her nerves tingle and her mind go blank with just a look, he wasn’t the man for her. She’d sworn off cowboys long ago. If she ever settled down, it wouldn’t be with a vagabond rodeoer.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“But you don’t like me much.” His frown was formidable but didn’t mask his puzzlement.

The confusion in his eyes tugged at her heart. “I really don’t know you, so how can I tell?”

“We can fix that.”

The air around her thickened, and her heart pounded. He hadn’t moved, but somehow he seemed closer. There was nothing worse than a cowboy who couldn’t take a hint, she reminded herself. And she’d done more than hint at him. She hated being rude, but he brought out the worst in her, stirring her up and leaving her with no choice.

Her hands shaking, she gathered the reins to leave, and the ice started to topple. Before she could react, Chace made a grab for it and settled it in the crook of his arm.