A Bull Rider To Depend On

A BAD BOY WITH A GOOD HEART

Widow Skye Larkin will do anything to save her ranch, even if it means accepting help from bad-boy bull rider Tyler Hayward. But he and his penchant for partying are to blame for her late husband’s financial indiscretions, which got her into this mess. She might be attracted to the dark, dangerous cowboy, but putting her trust in another rodeo man is unthinkable.

Ty knows he shouldn’t be surprised that Skye isn’t convinced he’s changed. He wants to prove that beneath the bravado, and no matter what happened on the circuit, he’s one of the good guys. Offering her a business partnership is just the first step. What will she do when he offers her his heart?

“You never answered my question,” Tyler said.

Skye tipped her chin up. “What question is that?” she asked, knowing full well what he was referring to.

“The one about why we never got along.”

She gave a careless shrug. “I don’t know... Spiders. Snakes. The incessant teasing?” His knack for finding little weaknesses and insecurities and exploiting them. “You were merciless toward me.”

“You mean I was acting like a preadolescent boy who liked a girl?”

She stared at him, stunned, as heat flooded her cheeks, which was ridiculous.

Tyler gave a little laugh. “You didn’t know?”

“How could I know?”

“I thought I was telegraphing my feelings pretty well back then.”

Skye rolled her eyes, thankful to have something to distract her from the other questions crowding into her head—such as why had he asked her out in high school?

He hooked his thumb into his belt loop. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

“I see no way that it can be.” Skye spoke truthfully, thankful that he hadn’t clued in to the direction of her thoughts.

A Bull Rider to Depend On

Jeannie Watt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JEANNIE WATT makes her home in Montana’s beautiful Madison valley, where she and her husband raise heritage beef. When she’s not writing, Jeannie enjoys collecting patterns and sewing vintage clothing, riding in the mountains and hiking with her husband. Sometimes she goes fishing, too, but she usually daydreams more than she fishes.

To Gary—the man with whom I’ve somehow managed to spend every major holiday without electricity.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Skye Larkin hated thinking ill of the dead, but as she pushed through the bank doors for the fourth time in two weeks, she was very, very angry with her late husband. And beyond being angry, she was, for the first time since learning the true state of her finances, afraid.

It’d been a shock, yes, to discover that the money she thought she had socked away to see the ranch through lean times was no longer there—that her husband had drained the accounts during his road trips, despite his assurances that he’d given up gambling—but for the first six months after Mason has passed away, she’d told herself it would be all right. She’d squeak through somehow. Make the payments, start to pull ahead.

At the six-month mark she had to face the reality that she wasn’t pulling ahead. In fact, after a couple of disasters, she was falling further behind, and the money she’d counted on to see her through these rough spells was now in the coffers of some high-rise Vegas casino.

Damn Mason’s gambling.

And not to mention all of his buddies who encouraged him to go out when he shouldn’t have. If Mason had stayed in his hotel room as he wanted—as he’d promised—then he wouldn’t have gambled. But no. His buddies would have none of that. One buddy in particular. And Mason had never been one to say no to a friend—even if that friend was nudging him along on the path to self-destruction.

Skye’s mouth tightened as she jerked open the truck door. She was behind one payment on the ranch and two payments on the truck. The first of the month—payment time—was inching closer, and she was rapidly running out of options. She climbed inside and rested her forehead on the steering.

She couldn’t operate the ranch without the yearly cow loan—the money that saw her through until she sold cattle. Having very few paydays during the year was the reason for the ranch account. Mason had no doubt planned to pay the account back with his next big win, either in the bull-riding arena or at the tables.

Mason always had big plans and every intention of carrying them out. He was young and no doubt thought he’d have lots of time to accomplish what he wanted, to rebuild Skye’s small family ranch, to start breeding bulls. An inattentive driver on the Vegas strip had put an end to all of that. And an end to Skye’s inherent belief that everything would work out if she was patient enough.

Things were nowhere close to working out.

Skye pressed her lips together and put the truck in gear. The now-familiar grinding sound came from the rear as she backed up, but, as usual, it disappeared when she put the truck in a forward gear. She ignored it. Worrying wouldn’t help anything. If it did, then the ranch would be solvent.

And now, plan B. The one she’d hoped to avoid. But after Mason’s funeral, her friend Jess Hayward had told her to call if she needed help. Made her promise to call. And she was going to make that call, regardless of whom he was related to. Now. Before she talked herself out of it.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Skye searched through her contacts and found Jess’s number. As luck would have it, he was in town. That was a good sign. Right?

“Sure,” he said when she asked if he had a few minutes to meet. “I’ll buy you a meal.”

“No, thank you.” She wouldn’t be able to eat while she was all worked up. “But I’ll have a Coke while you eat.”

“Maybe we can both have a Coke at the Shamrock and you can tell me what’s up.”

“Yes. That sounds good.” Ten minutes later she walked in the door of Gavin, Montana’s favorite drinking establishment and crossed the room to where Jess was already waiting at a table with two large Cokes in front of him.

Skye sat down and attempted a casual smile, which was harder than it should have been, due to the butterflies battling it out in her midsection. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. It has.” There was a touch of irony in his voice. Well deserved, since it had been over six months since she’d seen him.

“I’m sorry about that. Work and the ranch.” She made a small gesture. “You know.”

The expression in his eyes told her he understood what she was trying to say. She’d holed up physically as well as emotionally.

“This is really hard, Jess, so I’m just going to spit it out. Would you be able to float me a loan? Short term?”

“How much?” He made a move for his wallet, and Skye put up a hand, stopping him.

“A lot.” She took a steadying breath. “I’m behind on the truck payments. It’s close to paid off, and I don’t want it to go back to the bank.”

Jess’s expression clouded, and Skye continued before she lost her nerve. “I’m a little behind on the ranch, too.”

“Wow, Skye.” He spoke softly.

“Not a lot there. One payment, and I’m going to make a double payment this month and catch up. But those two things together have made it so that I can’t get a cow loan. And if I can’t get a cow loan, then I can’t operate, and what I make at the day job is a pittance compared to what I need.” She leaned back, feeling drained after the blurted confession. “I should have never agreed to mortgage the place, but obviously, I hadn’t expected Mason to die.”

Jess shifted in his chair. “I’m not in a good place right now.”

“Oh. I thought...” Skye’s voice trailed off. Rumor had it that when Jess’s parents sold the family ranch, they’d given each of their twin sons a healthy portion of the profits. If it hadn’t been for that much-repeated story, she would never have asked. “I apologize.”

“No.” He looked affronted. “I know why you asked, but Ty and I pretty much insisted that the folks invest the profit from the ranch into their own futures.” One corner of his mouth tightened a little. “They didn’t make a lot of money on the sale. Just enough to get out from under the debt and get started again in Texas.”

“That’s what I get for listening to rumors,” Skye said, still feeling embarrassed. “According to some of the old boys, you and Ty are rolling in dough.”

“That’s why I’m living in a crappy camp trailer.”

Skye started to smile in spite of herself. “I guess I should tell you that rumor has it you’re just biding your time until you start building your ‘big house.’ You’re in the process of looking for the right piece of property.”

Jess laughed and then reached for his untouched drink. Skye did the same. She still had the problems she had when she walked in, but somehow, talking to Jess made her feel better. As if she weren’t all alone.

“You know, Skye...” She looked up from her glass in time to see an uncertain expression play across his features. “Tyler’s doing well. He’s had a couple big paydays. The last one was huge.”

It felt as if a barrier had slammed into place at the sound of his twin’s name. “And I’m certain he wants to share his money with me. If I talked to him, he’d probably loan you the money.”

“Can’t do it,” Skye said. Because Tyler Hayward had been a big part of Mason’s problem and she didn’t see how she could live with herself if she tried to make him part of the solution.

Jess didn’t try to argue with her. He knew better. When they’d been kids growing up within a few miles of one another, she and Jess had become good friends. His twin, not so much. Tyler had been brash and loud and kind of mean. To her anyway. Snakes, spiders, smart-aleck remarks. He’d never shown any mercy.

Childhood issues she could have forgiven, but he’d also been instrumental in causing her current situation—that she couldn’t forgive. Tyler and Mason had been good friends. Great friends—the kind who gambled and drank together. Mason had tried so hard to give up the gambling, but, as he’d told her so often, the only way he could do that was to not go out. Tyler Hayward was all about the party, and he wanted his good buddy with him. The thing that really got to her was that she’d specifically asked Tyler to stop encouraging Mason to go out, and he’d blatantly ignored that request, which was why she wasn’t about to humble herself before him now and ask for money. She’d find a way.

“I assume you’ve had no luck with the banks.”

Skye shook her head. “Not for lack of trying. I owe too much on the mortgage to use the place as collateral. If I can get the cow loan, catch up on the truck...I think I’ll be okay. I’ll have to live really tightly for a year or two...” Her voice trailed off as she watched the expression shifting on Jess’s face. This was killing him almost as much as it was killing her. “But hey,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t fool either of them. “I’ve been through worse. You know I have.”

Jess let out a breath. “If it’s okay, I’ll make some inquiries—no names—just to see if anyone can float a cow loan.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Skye said softly.

“I know how hard it is for you to ask.”

Indeed, Skye was not a good asker—not after having self-sufficiency hammered into her for her entire life.

“That’s why I came to you,” Skye said. “You get it.” Unlike his brother. Why couldn’t he have understood Mason’s problem? Played ball? If he had...well, she couldn’t say Mason would be alive today, because he’d been on his way to the casino resort to check into a room when he got hit, but she’d be a lot better off.

“And now that I know how Ty’s doing with his bull riding, how are you doing with yours?”

“Stalled out at the moment. I’m living lean, still doing contract construction and trying to save enough money to follow Ty onto the circuit. You know, while I’m still young enough to get beat into the ground and bounce back.”

“You’re good, Jess. You should give it a shot.”

He lowered his gaze to study the table, as if this wasn’t a topic he was comfortable with. When he looked up at her, his expression was serious. “If I had the money, you know I’d give it to you.”

“Loan it to me.”

“That’s what I meant. Right now, living in the camp trailer, sharing it with Ty when he’s back in town...the prospect of hitting the road next year is one of the only things keeping me sane.”

* * *

SKYE DROVE HOME telling herself not to worry. She still had options, and she’d worked extra shifts to catch up on the ranch loan. She just needed to do the same with the truck. And the cow loan...she’d figure something out.

The porch squeaked under her feet as she mounted the stairs—a noise she’d long equated with her husband coming home from a bull-riding event, or back from the barn after chores. A good noise still, even though it made her feel lonely. She and Mason had had good times.

She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, holding it open so that Jinx could shoot out as usual. The big gray cat disappeared into the lilac bushes without so much as a backward glance, but come morning, after he’d done his best to decimate the mouse population in the sheds and barns, he’d be back, wanting attention and lots of it.

Skye walked inside and hung her purse on the coat rack near the door. Her house was spotless. When she couldn’t sleep, she cleaned. And cleaned and cleaned. It cost very little money to clean a house, and it wore her out and thus made it possible to get at least a few hours of rest before heading to work in the morning.

But tonight she hoped she could simply fall asleep the way she used to be able to. Mason had once teased her that when ten o’clock came around, her eyes automatically shut regardless of where she was. It was for the most part true. Skye was a morning person, which was why the morning shift at the café had seemed so perfect—right up until sleep started to escape her, around the same time that the bills started stacking up.

Partial payment was now the name of the game. She hadn’t been turned over to collection, but if she missed one more truck payment...

Her stomach tightened, and she hugged her arms around herself. Looked like another night of heavy cleaning and organizing.

Chapter Two

“Good thing I’m a minimalist,” Tyler Hayward muttered as he edged past his brother as he made his way down the hall of the camp trailer.

“You’re welcome for the roof over your head,” Jess muttered back as he headed into the cramped living room.

“I appreciate it,” Ty said. Cramped or not, he did.

Not that long ago, when he came home, Tyler crashed in his own room in the house he grew up in, but after his parents had sold the ranch and moved to Texas to be closer to his grandparents, he started staying with his twin. Practically on top of him, actually since his “room” was a built-in bunk in a niche in the hallway leading to Jess’s small bedroom at the rear of the trailer. His gear was stacked in a pile in the living room. He had to admit that Jess was being a good sport about him invading his space. At this point in his life, he had no idea where he would eventually land, or even what state he would call home. Texas, to be close to the folks? Or Montana to be close to his twin and the people he’d grown up with? Since his parents seemed to visit Gavin every couple of months, he was leaning toward Montana, which meant getting his own place. And for the first time ever, he was in a position to do it. His previous season had been good. No. Make that great, and he wanted to get something nailed down, pay cash and then only have to worry about maintenance and upkeep. A small place with ten acres or so. Enough to keep a few horses, a few cows. Nothing fancy.

After stowing his duffel under the bunk—at least there was room for that—he came back out into the living room/kitchen, where his brother was now settled in the living room, beer in one hand, remote in the other.

“You know...if you wanted to invest in a bigger trailer, I’d go halves with you.” He’d offer more, but his brother was proud. A little too proud sometimes.

“This’ll do for now.”

Jess had always been the careful twin—except in the arena. Once atop a bull, he rode with the best of them. The only problem was that he was never able to commit himself to a season. To take that risk.

“One of us has to have a job,” he’d say whenever Tyler badgered him to go pro. Ironically, Tyler was now the one with the money. No house, but money. Thankfully one was rather easily parlayed into the other.

“How long are you going to save?” Tyler asked as he got a beer out of the tiny fridge and joined his brother on the beat-up sofa their mom had left behind during the big move. He propped his foot up on the wooden chest that served as a coffee table.

“Before...?”

“You make some kind of a move?”

Jess changed the channel. A couple of times. “Until I feel ready. Okay?”

Tyler put up a hand. “Just checking.” Again.

Jess changed channels Again. Ty figured it would be another night of watching five minutes of a show then moving on as his brother became restless, but instead he muted the television and put the remote on his lap. “Skye came to see me today.”

Ty had years of practice not reacting to Skye’s name when it came up. He’d had a raging crush on her for as long as he could remember. She’d hated him for as long as he could remember. No matter what he did to impress her, it didn’t work, and eventually he’d given up and decided he really didn’t like her all that much anyway.

But he did. When they’d gone to high school, he’d even asked her out once. She’d thought he was poking fun at her and never gave him a chance to explain. Off to college she went, and when she came back, she was engaged to Mason. Ty’s friend. A guy he liked just fine, but sometimes had a hard time respecting. Being around the newly engaged couple had been Ty’s own private hell.

He knew for a fact that Mason never would have asked Skye out in the first place if he hadn’t known that Tyler had a thing for her. Mason and Tyler had competed in all venues of life, and in this case, Mason had won. Skye had refused to give Tyler a chance, and that had always stung a little.

Tyler put his feet up on the trunk in front of him. “Why did Skye come to see you?”

“She needed a loan. She’s behind on some payments and can’t nail down a cow loan.”

“How much behind?”

“I didn’t get a dollar amount. She needs the cow loan.” Jess raised his eyes to meet his brother’s.

“I can lend her the money.” He spoke flatly, as if he had no emotional stake in the matter.

“Yeah,” Jess said. “I mentioned the possibility and...” He gave his head a small shake. “She wasn’t in favor.”

“But you’re telling me anyway.” He knew his brother wasn’t twisting the knife, so...

“I thought you’d want to know.”

“Why?”

Jess lifted an eyebrow, and Tyler let out a breath as he dropped his gaze to study the toes of his dusty boots. The thing about being a twin was that it was pretty hard to keep the guy who looked like you from reading you. He’d denied having any kind of lingering feelings for Skye after she’d married Mason—had said that he’d moved on from that hopeless affair—but Jess wasn’t fooled. Ty knew because he could read his twin as easily as his twin read him.

“Right,” he muttered. The situation between him and Skye was complicated—or at least it was on his end, where feelings of guilt, frustration and resentment were coupled with an attraction that refused to die. On her end, it was simple—he was the bad guy who’d encouraged her husband onto the path of self-destruction, and she’d made no secret of her beliefs.

He was guilty to a degree. Despite Skye asking him to stay far away from Mason while on tour, he hadn’t seen where a few wild nights would hurt anyone—but he also hadn’t known how far Mason would take the whole partying thing. By the time Tyler realized what was happening, it was too late to do anything about it. The most unfortunate part was that there wasn’t a good way for Tyler to defend himself. How did you tell a woman that she didn’t know everything about her husband and his code of ethics?

You didn’t. Not after that guy was dead.

Jess cleared his throat. “Skye won’t be happy about me telling you, but I thought...you know.”

Tyler shot his brother a quick look, read the concern on his face and wondered if it was for him or Skye. He couldn’t help but smirk as he said, “That she might be desperate enough to accept help from the bad twin?”

“Something like that.” Jess picked up the remote and changed the channel again. “It might give you a chance to smooth things with her.”

Tyler gave a yeah, right snort as the pitcher on the screen threw a perfect strike. “She doesn’t want them smoothed.”

“She doesn’t know the facts.”

Nor would she...although he had to admit that this might be an opportunity to show Skye that he wasn’t the jerk she thought he was. He might have had difficulties controlling his wilder impulses back in the day, but beneath it all, he was a decent guy. Just like his twin.

And as far as Mason was concerned—Mason was always his own boss and Skye needed to accept that.

* * *

WHEN SKYE GOT off shift at one thirty, Jess Hayward was waiting for her by her car.

Only it wasn’t Jess.

The warm smile on her face cooled as she realized that the guy loitering at the edge of the parking lot was Tyler Hayward. With the exception of the small scar on Tyler’s chin, the brothers were nearly identical, right down to their haircuts—but there was something different about the way they stood. And moved. Skye had learned long ago to tell them apart at a distance. If Jess was walking toward her, she went to meet him. If it had been Tyler...she’d changed direction to avoid whatever irritating thing he was about to do to her. When they were younger, he’d threatened her with various amphibians. As they’d grown older, frogs and salamanders had changed into smart-ass comments.

“Good morning,” he said as she stopped several feet away from him.

“Good morning,” she echoed coolly, knowing instantly that Jess had ratted her out. With the best of intentions, no doubt, but now she had to deal with Tyler.

“You’re looking good, Skye.”

A compliment. That was different.

“You, too.” She spoke with polite indifference, but, infuriatingly, the fact of the matter was that he really did look good.

He shifted his weight and folded his arms over his chest, as if debating how to launch into what he’d come to say. “We haven’t talked in a while, Skye.”