Rodeo Daddy

On those rides, she questioned every aspect of her relationship with Jack, searching for some sign that she’d been dead wrong about him. That her love for him had blinded her to his faults, his weaknesses, his deceitfulness. Or that, like her father and brother believed, she really had been too young to see the truth.

She remembered everything about Jack Shane. The way he talked, the way he stood, the way he touched her. And the way he’d left her.

She’d been seventeen that summer, Jack twenty-two. He had a way about him. A quiet, gentle strength. She liked how he handled the horses she loved. She liked the tenderness that came into his dark eyes when he looked at her. She’d felt a pull to him, stronger than gravity, whenever she was near him.

She’d known he’d been hurt bad when he was young, and suffered poverty and neglect. She’d felt his pain, just looking at him. But she’d also seen his desire to overcome his past, his determination to succeed. He was a man willing to work for what he wanted. He hadn’t been kicked down so much that he didn’t still have dreams.

Maybe it was that hunger that had led him to steal.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen how overwhelmed he was by the size of the Wishing Tree ranch, how envious he was of her family’s closeness and how...uncomfortable he was with her wealth. He hadn’t wanted to fall in love with her because of it, and told her as much.

Chelsea had never thought much about money. Probably because she’d never had to. Everything she’d ever needed was on the ranch. Her life was unbelievably rich in so many things she hadn’t realized until she’d met Jack Shane. Money was only one of them.

Jack had never believed he would be accepted in the circles in which her family traveled, and because of that, he’d had trouble believing the two of them had a future.

He’d been right. She ached at the thought of how Jack must have felt when her father offered him ten thousand dollars to leave the Wishing Tree and her. She knew how much pride he had. In fact, he’d had little else.

That alone could explain why Jack had written the hurried note telling her it would never work out. Why he’d left without talking to her and why he’d never come back.

What if Cody was wrong? She kept thinking about the check and the fact that Jack hadn’t taken the money. The more she thought about it, the more she believed Jack hadn’t left out of guilt, but hurt and embarrassment. What if there was an explanation, just as she had originally thought, for Jack going to Box Canyon that night?

The more she considered it, the more she worried that Jack had been falsely accused. She couldn’t have been that wrong about him. If she had been, she would never trust her heart again.

“I’m going to find Jack,” she said one morning at breakfast, surprising herself as much as she did Cody. “I have to confront him. I have to know the truth.”

“I told you the truth,” Cody said contrarily.

“I believe you,” she assured him. At least she believed that Cody believed it. “I just need to know why.”

“For once in your life, just let it go, Chels,” Cody said, pushing away his plate. “He’s going to break your heart all over again.”

“Try to understand,” she pleaded, not wanting this to come between them. “I have to do this.”

“The man is no good, Chels,” her brother said hotly. “The worst thing you can do is dig all this back up. Think of Dad. This isn’t what he would have wanted. If it comes out about the rustling, it’s going to hurt everyone, especially the Farnsworths.”

“This is just between me and Jack.”

Cody threw down his napkin and pushed back his chair. “Why do you think Dad debated telling you for so long?” he demanded as he got to his feet. “Because he feared you’d do some fool thing like this. You always took in every stray cat or dog that wandered onto the ranch, thinking that with some food and love you could save them all. Well, you couldn’t save Jack Shane but you would have died trying.”

“It wasn’t like that. Cody, please, try to understand. I’ve never been able to get over him. If you’re right, then after I see him, I’ll be able to move on. Finally.”

“You think he’ll admit the truth to you?” he demanded.

“Yes, I think he will.”

Cody shook his head, his gaze softening. “Sis, I’m just afraid you’re going to fall under this guy’s spell again.”

“I’m a big girl now, Cody. I’m not seventeen with stars in my eyes. If Jack lied to me, I’ll know.”

Cody was still shaking his head. “Dad made one hell of a mistake by running him off. He should have let Jack stay long enough to hang himself so you could see who he really was.”

“Yes, Dad should have,” she agreed. “But since he didn’t, I intend to see for myself. Support me on this, Cody. Trust me.”

“It isn’t you I don’t trust, Chels. It’s Jack. I saw the way he stole your heart. He would have stolen this ranch just as quickly. You’re making a mistake, one you’re going to regret.”

“I guess it’s my mistake to make,” she said quietly.

“Then you’re on your own.” He swore as he turned and stomped out, grabbing his hat on the way. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

“I NEED YOU to find someone for me,” Chelsea said the moment she stepped into the office of Finders Keepers a few hours later.

Dylan Garrett laughed at her abrupt entrance. “Chelsea. What a surprise!” He got up to embrace her.

Dylan and her brother Cody were the same age and had been good friends since they were boys. The Garretts owned a ranch in the same area outside of San Antonio as the Jensens. She hadn’t seen Dylan and his sisters Lily and Ashley since her father’s funeral.

Dylan released her, holding her at arm’s length to look at her. “How are you? I’ve been wanting to stop by to see Cody....”

She knew what he was asking. “Cody is doing...better. You saw how he was at the funeral. He fills his days with work. But I think he’s sleeping more now and he’s talking to me again.”

“Good,” Dylan said, offering her a chair.

“That is, he was,” she added.

Dylan raised a brow. Rather than go back behind his desk, he took a chair across from her. Dylan had always been a strikingly good-looking man. At one time, Chelsea had had a terrible crush on him—his rugged, muscular build, his sun-streaked light-brown hair, always in need of a haircut, and those incredible blue eyes so like his father’s.

But it was the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth and that little dimple in his left cheek when he smiled that used to get to her. That and the fact that he was a nice guy.

Unfortunately, he’d been her brother’s friend, one of the reasons the crush hadn’t lasted long. That and Jack Shane.

She took a deep breath and smiled, trying to calm down. She’d always been impetuous, but now that she was in Dylan’s office she felt a little...scared. “How are you?”

He smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve been following your wonderful success with Finders Keepers. I hope I get to see Lily while I’m here, and the baby. How old is Elizabeth now, almost a month?”

“She’s the cutest thing,” the proud uncle said, a sparkle in his eye.

It struck her what a great father Dylan would make. But so far, it seemed, no woman had caught his eye.

“So, who do you have to find this early in the morning?” he asked, no doubt sensing her need to get this settled and as quickly as possible.

She took a breath and braced herself, not sure how much he knew about all this. “Jack Shane.”

He arched a brow. “Jack Shane?”

“He worked on the ranch about ten years ago.”

She filled Dylan in on everything Cody had told her, although she suspected he probably knew most of it. “I was in love with Jack,” she confided.

“I remember,” Dylan said quietly. “You went to Europe later that summer.”

Her father had surprised her with that trip to Europe. Now she knew why. Obviously, he’d hoped it would help her get over Jack. Too bad it hadn’t worked.

“Are you sure about this?” Dylan asked.

She’d never been more sure of anything. Or more afraid. “I have to know the truth.”

Dylan looked skeptical. “More than likely, you’ll never know the truth. If he conned you before, what’s to prevent him from doing it again? I have to raise these questions, Chelsea. Jack Shane might be guilty. He might even be...dangerous. What then?”

She started to argue, but he stopped her.

“Did you ever think that he might not want to be found?”

She knew what Dylan meant: if Jack was guilty, seeing her turn up on his doorstep wasn’t going to make his day.

“Or he might be in prison—or worse,” Dylan added. “Ten years is a long time. And all things considered, there’s more than a good chance you aren’t going to like what you find.”

She nodded. “Either way, I need to know and I need to hear it straight from Jack.”

Dylan studied her for a moment. “Okay, I’ll do my best to find him for you, but I have to tell you, it’s against my better judgment.”

“Thanks, Dylan,” she said, opening her purse to pull out her checkbook.

He reached over to put a hand on hers. “Let’s see what I find out, then we can talk about my fee. I’ll give you a call.” He got to his feet. “Lily is around—you have to see this baby. Stay here, and I’ll be right back.”

Restless, Chelsea walked around the tastefully furnished office, too nervous to sit. She knew she wouldn’t be good for anything until Dylan found Jack. Until she got this settled in her mind. And her heart.

She heard Lily’s voice and turned to hear Dylan say, “Give me that baby, and come in here and say hello to Chelsea.”

“Chelsea? You didn’t tell me she was here.” Lily burst through the door and rushed to hug her as Dylan brought the baby in. Elizabeth was so tiny and adorable, Chelsea melted at the sight of her.

“Everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Lily asked with concern after Chelsea had made a fuss over the baby.

Chelsea nodded. She’d always felt close to Lily and her sister Ashley, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Lily about Jack. “Congratulations. Elizabeth is beautiful.”

Lily’s face glowed with happiness as she nudged the blanket down with a finger so she could look at her baby cuddled in her brother’s arms. Chelsea watched the expression on Lily’s face and wondered if she would ever have a child of her own.

* * *

DYLAN WATCHED Chelsea leave, unable to shake off the bad feeling he had. Chelsea was like a little sister to him, and, like Cody, he felt protective of her.

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked behind him.

He turned to look at her holding her precious infant daughter. Everything, he wanted to say. He envied his sister. She had Cole and now Elizabeth.

“I’m worried about Chelsea,” he answered honestly.

“She’s a headstrong woman,” Lily agreed.

He had to laugh. “Like someone else I know.”

“Dylan, when I came in earlier, you were on the phone with Zach Logan. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Zach had been Dylan’s boss when he’d worked with the Dallas police. “Zach’s just helping me with Julie’s case,” Dylan said. He didn’t want to concern his sister any more than he already had. “Zach’s involvement will help me settle it faster, that’s all.”

Julie. The woman he loved. The woman who had married his best friend, Sebastian Cooper.

It had only been a few months since Dylan had discovered Sebastian was up to his neck in the mob. Julie had learned of it even earlier and had taken off, pregnant.

That had been a year ago January—a long year in which Dylan had searched for Julie, finally locating her in the tiny Texas town of Cactus Creek. Julie was fearful for her life and that of her baby son, Thomas. She was convinced Sebastian meant to harm her, and after eavesdropping on Sebastian and mobster Luke Silva, Dylan knew her fears were grounded. He had put her in a safe house in Boot Hill until he could find enough evidence on Sebastian to send him to prison for life.

Dylan worried that he wasn’t moving fast enough. That Sebastian was going to find Julie and Thomas before he could get what he needed on his old friend. He had tried to keep the fact that he’d found Julie a secret, but his twin sister Lily knew him too well—Lily and their ranch foreman, Max, who was like a brother to Dylan. They noticed Dylan had changed in the past few months and had guessed the reason. But Dylan trusted them to keep his discovery of Julie a secret. And even though he hated to inflict worry on his sister and Max, it had helped having them to confide in.

“I heard you tell Zach that you’re planning to go see J. B. Crowe in prison to flush out Sebastian,” she said, then lowered her voice, realizing she’d startled Elizabeth. She looked down at the infant, then back up at him. “J. B. Crowe is the head of the mob. You helped put him in prison—you know how dangerous he is.” Dylan stepped over to his sister and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Believe me, I know. But for Julie’s sake, I’ve got to find Sebastian before he finds her, and J. B. Crowe is going to help me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” Lily said. “Just do me a favor. Please be careful.”

“Always.” He kissed his sister on the forehead, then Elizabeth. “You just take care of my niece and don’t worry.” But he could tell that would be hard for her. It was another reason he had to find Sebastian. And soon.

* * *

IT WASN’T UNTIL the next evening that Dylan called. Chelsea had been waiting anxiously by the phone. Cody had cleared out of the house and was back in his distant, uncommunicative mood. Her attempts at conversation with him only elicited grunts until she’d finally just given up.

It broke her heart to lose him again. She could only hope he’d come around, because now that she’d gone this far, she wasn’t turning back.

“Chelsea?” The sound of Dylan’s voice made her heart begin to pound.

“You found Jack?” she whispered.

“He doesn’t go by Jack Shane anymore,” Dylan said. “He calls himself Jackson Robinson.”

Why did that name sound familiar?

“He’s a bull rider on the pro rodeo circuit,” Dylan continued. “Shuns publicity but has made a name for himself by winning more than a few titles.”

“You’re sure it’s Jack?” she asked, surprised the man she’d known would be riding bulls. Even more surprised he’d changed his name. But then according to Cody, she didn’t know the man at all, and ten years ago he would have had good reason to try to drop out of sight.

“Unless someone else is using his social security number it’s the Jack Shane who worked for your ranch ten years ago,” Dylan said.

“Where can I find him?” she asked, more determined than ever to see if this Jackson Robinson was really her Jack.

“Hold on, now,” Dylan said. “I’ve just started digging. I would strongly advise you to wait until I get more information on this guy before you confront him.”

She couldn’t bear the thought of waiting any longer. “Is he in Texas?”

“Yes.”

She took a breath. “Is he...married?”

“I have no idea. Given more time—”

“Where is he in Texas?” she asked, determined to get her own answers—and quickly. “Dylan, I need to see him. Now.”

“Cody will have my hide for this,” Dylan said.

“You’ve always been able to hold your own with Cody,” she returned. “Where, Dylan? You can’t talk me out of this any more than Cody did, and believe me, he tried.”

“I’m sure he did,” Dylan said with a groan. “Jackson Robinson is riding in Lubbock tomorrow night.”

Lubbock, Texas. That was only a day’s drive away.

“That’s perfect. Thanks, Dylan. You don’t know what this means to me.” She started to hang up.

“Chelsea, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

Too late for that.

“Why don’t you take Cody with you?” Dylan suggested.

“Cody?” He had to be kidding. “I think not. Anyway, he has a ranch to run. I’ll be fine. Really.” She didn’t need her big brother protecting her.

She hung up, her heart pounding. As impulsive as she’d always been, even she was shocked by what she planned to do. She was going to see Jack. Jackson. Whatever he called himself these days. She told herself that she’d know the truth the moment she looked into his dark eyes.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN SHE GOT UP the next morning to leave, Cody was already gone. She loaded her bag into her car, scribbled a goodbye to her brother with the promise to call, and left.

The night before she’d packed hurriedly, shaking with just the thought of seeing Jack again. Maybe Dylan and Cody were right. Maybe this man did have some power over her. He’d certainly stayed in her thoughts all these years. And in her heart.

She hadn’t known what to pack or for how long. A few days max. What should she wear? What any Texas-born cowgirl wore to a rodeo—jeans and boots.

But she threw in her favorite blue silk dress for good measure, just in case.

Just in case what? What did she hope was going to happen? She tried not to go there.

She’d just closed the bag when she heard a sound behind here.

“So you’re really going to do this,” Cody said from the doorway.

He no longer appeared angry, just concerned. She nodded.

“Could you at least tell me where you’re going?” he asked.

“Lubbock. He’s riding bulls with the rodeo circuit.”

Cody nodded. He’d ridden a few bulls himself, and a few broncs.

She hadn’t really wanted to tell him that Jack had changed his name, afraid Cody would only see it as more evidence of his guilt. “He’s riding as Jackson Robinson.”

“Is he?”

“Have you heard of him?” she’d asked, seeing something in her brother’s look that worried her.

He hadn’t answered. “You realize you might be the last person he wants to see.”

She refused to even consider that possibility.

Cody had stood in the doorway for a moment. “I know better than to try to talk you out of this fool behavior.”

“That’s good,” she’d agreed.

“Could you at least call and let me know you’re not dead on the highway?”

“What good would calling do? You’ll be out mending fence or chasing down some stray calf, acting like you work around here.” He didn’t seem to appreciate her sense of humor. But then he never had.

“I’ll take the cell phone with me,” he’d said after a moment. He’d made a disgusted face and looked even more put out with her. Cody hated cell phones and refused to carry the one she’d bought him.

“Then I’ll call,” she’d promised, and smiled. “Wish me luck?”

“You’re going to need more than luck, little sister.”

Last night she’d felt confident, but now that she was on the road, she was less sure of herself. What if she was wrong about Jack? What if he didn’t want to see her? Or worse, what if he admitted he’d never cared, that he’d only been after her cattle—and her ranch?

That thought almost made her turn around. Almost.

She remembered the day Jack had arrived in an old red pickup, rattling up the road in a cloud of Texas dust, looking for a job. He’d climbed out of the truck. Even at twenty-two he looked solid, as if he’d done a lot of manual labor. Had it been love at first sight? She’d always thought so.

A terrible thought struck her. What if Jack thought she’d known about the check?

She drove past San Antonio, took Highway 10 and headed west. At Sonora, she’d angle up 87 and on into Lubbock. She figured she’d be there before Jack rode.

Turning up the music, she put the top down on the Mercedes her father had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday. But she couldn’t quit thinking about Jack. Or worrying that she might be wrong about him.

* * *

AFTER GETTING CAUGHT in road construction for hours, Chelsea was late reaching Lubbock, and suddenly, she wasn’t so sure this was a good idea. She was twenty-eight, no longer a kid. And yet she was still chasing rainbows.

But she’d come this far. And if she didn’t see Jack, she would always wonder, right?

A little voice in the back of her head that sounded uncannily like her brother kept warning her this was a mistake.

She glanced in the rearview mirror, shocked to realize she hardly recognized the woman behind the wheel. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright as stars, excitement radiating from her. And determination. She was a woman who liked to finish what she started, one way or the other.

By the time she found the rodeo grounds on the far side of town, the rodeo was over and the crowd had gone home.

She parked, raked her hand through her long, unruly hair, wishing she’d had the sense not to put the top down on the car.

Getting out, she walked slowly toward the chutes at the rear of the arena, hoping that Jack would still be there.

She asked a cowboy loading his horse into a trailer where she could find Jackson Robinson. He pointed her in the direction of a dozen trailers, pickups and motor homes camped under a long row of old oaks—and one older model motor home in particular.

As Chelsea neared, she saw that the outside door was open and light was spilling out the screen door onto a piece of carpet in front of the metal pull-out step.

The evening was warm and filled with the fragrances of coming summer. Woven into the scents were the many different foods being cooked in the tiny community camped here, and the leftover smell of corn dogs, cotton candy and fried bread from the rodeo.

The lights, the warm breeze and the inviting aromas gave the encampment a cozy, homey feel. Horses whinnied in the corrals. Laughter drifted on the breeze from small groups of cowboys sitting outside their rigs in pools of golden light. There would be another rodeo tomorrow night, so it appeared most of the riders were staying for it.

As she approached the motor home, she thought she smelled something cooking inside. Then she heard a sound that stopped her cold. It drifted out the screen door. Light, lyrical, definitely female laughter.

She stopped walking, realizing just how rash she’d been. Had she expected Jack to pine away for her all these years as she had for him? Obviously she had.

Suddenly she was struck with a huge case of cold feet. She started to turn and stumbled, almost colliding with a child. The cowboy was small and slim, dressed in jeans, boots and a checked western shirt. His straw cowboy hat was pulled low over his eyes.

“Sorry,” Chelsea murmured, feeling like a coward. Didn’t she want to know the truth? If she couldn’t face the fact that Jack had someone else, how could she face it if he’d lied to her, rustled her cattle and taken off with her heart? Which right now seemed damned likely.

“Are you looking for someone? I know everybody here.”

“Oh you do, do you?” Chelsea asked with amusement. She’d thought the child a boy, but on closer inspection, she realized the cowboy was in fact a cowgirl of about eight or nine. And from the amount of dirt on her jeans and boots, Chelsea would say a tomboy. She recognized the look.

The screen door on the motor home banged open. Chelsea turned, afraid it would be Jack. Instead, a young woman dressed in western attire came out, still laughing and smiling back at whoever was inside. Her boots rang on the metal step of the motor home and her laughter echoed through the trees.

“See ya later, Jackson,” the woman said, and swinging her hips, sauntered off.

The tomboy next to Chelsea made a rude noise. “Terri Lyn Kessler. She’s a barrel racer.”

Just then, a man stuck his head out the door of the motor home. “Samantha?” he called, but the retreating woman didn’t turn around.

Chelsea’s gaze swung back around to the motor home and Jack standing in the doorway. It seemed as if it had been only yesterday. She stood rooted to the spot at the sight of him in the light from the open door. A whirlwind of emotions swirled like a dust devil around her, engulfing her, taking her breath away. Some things didn’t change—her reaction to Jack Shane one of them.