Winning the Cowboy's Heart

8:00 sharp, to discuss our own fund-raiser.” “Scary.” Regan said to Tanya, as they walked back to their classrooms. “He looked orgasmic.”

“He was orgasmic. He’s wanted this for a long time.”

“Maybe he’ll relax once he has the position.” Tanya rolled her blue eyes and Regan sighed. “I guess we’ll just muscle through this year and hope the board is smart enough not to make the appointment permanent.”

“We can hope, but never discount the good-old-boy network. I think Pete has a shot at this. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d already decided to shoehorn him in.”

“Because of his charismatic personality?”

“Because of the eight state football and basketball championships. School boards and ex-athletes in positions of power like that kind of stuff.”

WHEN REGAN ARRIVED at the arena on Friday afternoon to pick up her new horse, she found Madison preoccupied, anxious about some problem with the upcoming clinic and ready to take it out on the first innocent person who crossed her path. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Toffee made it clear he had no intention of getting into a small two-horse trailer.

Regan had just spent a long day trying to keep more than 150 adolescents under control and she was in no mood to deal with either of these two. Fortunately, though, the brand inspector, a man named Trev Paul, had a way with both horses and women.

He was a good-looking man, dark and lean, with an easy smile, but it was his patience and the sense that he saw more than he acknowledged that most impressed Regan. Both Madison and Toffee responded well to his combination of easy humor and quiet determination, and in a surprisingly short amount of time, Regan was following his truck and trailer back to her place.

Once they were there, Trev unloaded Toffee and led him around the house to the pasture. It was obvious the gelding had no more respect for Trev than he did for Regan, but Trev was big enough to do something about it. He elbowed the horse out of his space more than once on the walk from the trailer.

“This boy needs some groundwork,” Trev commented, as he released the horse into the knee-high grass.

“Amen to that,” Regan muttered.

“Are you going to Madison’s clinic?” Trev pushed his ball cap back and Regan found herself staring into a pair of stunning hazel eyes.

“Sure am.”

“You might talk to Will or Del. I’d suggest Will, since he lives here and you won’t have to skip a rent payment to pay him.”

Regan laughed. “Speaking of payment, you’re sure you won’t take anything for hauling Toffee?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure you can get your trailer out of this narrow driveway?”

“Yep.” He grinned. “See you around.”

Trev effortlessly reversed down the drive and made the tricky backward turn onto the county road in one shot. Regan hoped she’d be that competent once she bought a trailer, which would be in two years or so, the way things were going.

She had grading waiting for her, but instead of doing what she was supposed to be doing, she walked to the pasture to take another look at her horse. After all, how many times did a person get her first horse?

Her horse. Not a leased horse or a borrowed horse or a schooling horse.

He stood almost exactly where he’d been released, pulling up big mouthfuls of fresh grass, his dark coat shining in the late afternoon sun. Every now and then he would raise his head to look around, as if he couldn’t believe he had all this space, all this freedom—all this grass!—to himself.

With the exception of the grass, Regan knew exactly how he felt. She loved her mother and sister, but she was glad to be several hundred miles away from them and no longer required to act as a handy referee. And although dating Daniel had not put a crimp in her freedom, the aftermatch of their relationship had given her an an even deeper appreciation of independence.

Too bad it had been such a hard lesson.

Regan settled her forearms on the gate, telling herself to focus on the present, forget about the past, but she hated the fact that she’d been conned so masterfully—personally and professionally. She’d even broken a number of personal rules for him—don’t date a colleague, don’t let anyone get too close.

But after working with the guy for a year, team teaching a math and science pilot program at a middle school, she thought she knew him well enough to break those rules. They’d started dating and it had seemed a perfect relationship. They were close both personally and professionally, yet Daniel understood and respected Regan’s need to have her own space. He was supportive and attentive, generous. Almost perfect. Or so she thought.

Her professional goal at the time, heartily endorsed by her mother, Arlene, since it involved getting out of the classroom and into a power suit, was to secure a position with the Education Development Authority.

Over the course of that school year, she developed a package of innovative interactive lesson plans, which both she and Daniel used in their classes. With Daniel’s input, Reagan had fine-tuned the material. When EDA had announced a job opening, Regan was ready. But so was Daniel.

He’d been up front about the fact that he was applying for the job, as well. Regan had been a bit surprised, but she knew that was the way things were in the professional world. She convinced herself she didn’t have a problem with it. However she did have a problem with the fact that when it was her day to be interviewed, to present her materials and teach a demonstration lesson, it soon became apparent the interview committee had seen quite similar material before. The day before. During Daniel’s interview.

Maybe, if life was fair, neither of them would have gotten the job. But life wasn’t fair. Daniel had set the stage nicely, talking about his junior teaching colleague, Regan, who’d helped him tweak the lessons he’d spent so much time developing. It was only fair, after all, that she get a tiny portion of the credit.

At least Daniel had been smart enough to know that Regan would no longer be sharing his life after he’d accepted the job, so there had been no nasty breakup. Just a painful case of self-recrimination for trusting him, for almost convincing herself that she loved him.

She wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

WILL WENT THROUGH his equipment, setting aside the few things he planned to bring with him to the clinic. He didn’t need much. The horse would be there. All he needed was a sturdy halter, a rope, a saddle and a clear head. Three out of four wasn’t bad.

“Hey, Dad.” Kylie strolled into the barn, yawning but fully dressed and ready to go. The only time she got up willingly was when the day involved horses.

“Hey.”

She had on her good black cowboy hat, her T-shirt with a barrel racer emblazoned on the back and her new jeans, which were already getting too short. Shopping time again. He’d have to see if Sadie’s mom had a trip to Elko planned in the near future. No, maybe he’d take her himself. He didn’t want her in Elko without him just now.

“You look ready.”

She grinned at him. “So do you. Are you up first today?”

“Nope, second.” Del liked to go first. He was the headliner.

“Can Stubby come?” Both Kylie and the young border collie looked at Will hopefully.

Will shook his head. “Not yet.”

“He’ll behave.”

“He’ll eat the interior of my truck.”

“He didn’t eat much the last time.”

No. Just the gearshift knob, but Will wasn’t taking any chances. “Not this time.”

Kylie bent down to explain to the collie that he had to stay home, then she got into the truck as the pup slunk to the porch steps to watch them leave without him.

Will waited as Kylie fastened her seat belt and the surge of protectiveness he felt as he watched her small hands work the latch was almost overwhelming. He knew logically there was probably nothing to worry about, that Brett had been in the area for more than a month and he’d made no attempt to contact them, but paternal instinct and logic did not always jibe. In fact, in Will’s experience they rarely did.

“Ready?” Kylie’s dark eyes were shining with excitement. She loved any and all horse events—especially those that involved her dad. He smiled.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Kylie gave him a patient look. “I know you hate having all those people looking at you, but just imagine them in their underwear.”

“That’s a frightening thought, considering some of the people who will be there.” Kylie grinned. “I’d never thought of it that way. Do you think old Grandpa Meyers wears boxers or briefs?”

“Stop now.”

Kylie started giggling and Will put the truck in Reverse. The day was actually off to a decent start.

REGAN WAS THERE.

He’d been scanning the crowd, while Madison introduced Del, looking for his brother, just in case, when he spotted her on the opposite side of the arena. And then, since it kept his mind off his upcoming performance, he continued to watch her. He’d never seen her in jeans before, but they suited her. And he liked the way her chestnut hair was pulled back in a haphazard non-teacherish ponytail.

She had a notepad balanced on one thigh and from the moment Del stepped into the ring with his horse, her attention was focused on his performance. She jotted notes every couple of seconds, it seemed.

Will watched her as she wrote, wondering if she’d take notes on him, too. He told himself he’d check, but he knew that, once he was in the round pen with the mustang, all his attention would be focused there. It was the only way he ever got through public performances—by pretending the audience wasn’t there. Kylie’s classic underwear strategy didn’t work, primarily because of people like old Grandpa Meyers.

Lunch was the usual free-for-all, with the high school’s FFA club flipping burgers and people hustling Will and Del for free advice.

Just before it was Will’s turn to begin his afternoon performance, he eased away from the person he was talking to and approached Kylie and Sadie in the audience.

“Hey, would you guys do me a favor and stay here during the demonstration? In the front row?”

“Why?”

“I need some feedback and I want you to watch in order to give it.” He pulled the reason out of thin air, but it sounded good and he could see that Kylie liked it.

“Okay.”

“You won’t get bored and wander off?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I expect something constructive.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Kylie quoted one of his favorite sayings. Will reached out, tapped the brim of her hat down and she laughed.

“Stay put,” he repeated.

WHEN MADISON ANNOUNCED the start of the final demonstration, Will walked to the center of the arena, his short chaps flapping just below his knees, his gaze down, so that it was impossible to see his face under the brim of the cowboy hat. But when he reached Madison, he tilted his hat back, gave a tight-lipped, well-here-I-am smile and looked as if he’d dearly love to be anywhere but where he was.

Madison talked about Will, his background and training strategies, but Will’s eyes were on the chute through which the mare would enter the round pen. There was some banging on the rails, as the horse was pushed into the paneled runway, then she emerged, her eyes round and wild.

She circled the round pen at a full gallop several times before coming to a stop at the side farthest away from the crowd. The rails were too high to jump, but she bunched up as if she was going to try. She continued to dance at the edge of the pen, desperately looking for a way out.

Will stood quietly until the mare threw him a wild glance over her shoulder and snorted. He took a slow step forward and the mare took off, galloping furiously around the pen, her hind feet kicking up divots and her attention outside the rails. Will moved to the center, pivoting as she circled, keeping his eyes on her, waiting for her to slow. When she did, he stepped forward quietly to get her moving again. This time her canter wasn’t quite as wild and every now and then she looked at the man in the center of the pen, trying to read him.

“What Will’s doing is controlling the mare’s movements—showing her that he is the lead animal, the boss,” Madison explained. Will also had a microphone clipped to his collar, but Regan wondered if he even had it turned on. “Horses want to know their place in the hierarchy of the herd and that’s what Will is establishing now. He’ll keep her moving, then give her an opportunity to stop when he wants her to stop.”

The demonstration continued, the crowd watched attentively as Will eventually approached the mare and then touched her. When she turned away from him, he set her moving again, repeating the pattern until she understood that he wouldn’t hurt her but if she didn’t hold still for him she’d have to run. And running was work.

Will continued approaching and backing off, asking her to allow him to do as much as she could tolerate, then releasing pressure by backing away for a moment. In the end, he was able to rub her all over, halter her and saddle her. Madison kept up a running commentary throughout the entire procedure.

Finally, Will stepped away from the mare and walked to the edge of the round pen. The mare followed. He ran a hand over her neck when she stopped, facing him.

“I’m not going to get on her,” he said, speaking for the first time since the start of the demonstration. “She’s done enough for one day. I hope I’ve been able to show you guys something during this demonstration. If there are any questions…?”

Several hands shot up and Regan leaned back in her seat as Madison began fielding the questions.

After the demonstration, Will was surrounded by people—mostly women, Regan noticed as she gathered her notebook and purse—and although he was polite, she had a feeling that like the mustang mare, all he wanted to do was escape.

WILL WATCHED REGAN LEAVE the arena over the head of a woman who was outlining her horse’s behavior in a rather long-winded manner. He redirected his attention and listened, thinking that this woman’s only problem was that she babied her animal. When he told her that, she wasn’t happy with the answer. She wanted her horse to mind her because he loved her, not because she was the boss. Will opened his mouth to tell her that horses were not wired that way, but instead he just nodded. If she’d sat through both his and Del’s presentations and hadn’t yet picked that up, then she was only going to hear what she wanted to hear. Some people couldn’t understand that affection and boundaries could actually go hand in hand.

When he’d answered his last question, he found Kylie in the front row where he’d left her. Sadie was gone, but another girl had taken her place.

“Honest,” she was saying to Kylie as Will approached. She suddenly noticed that Will was there. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

“What’s that all about?” Will asked after the girl left.

Kylie frowned. “She said that she saw a guy who looked just like you in Elko yesterday.”

Will felt an instant tightening in his midsection, but before he could think of something to say, Kylie screwed up her forehead and said, “Gee, Dad. You don’t suppose it’s Uncle Brett, do you?”

CHAPTER FOUR

“WELL, do you think it was him?” Kylie repeated a few seconds later.

“Might have been.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

Kylie was certainly curious. She always had been and the older she got, the more curious she’d become. He didn’t blame her. The kid hardly had any relatives and the few she did have were not part of her world. So far, they’d only had a few brief discussions about Brett and the fact that Will and his brother hadn’t been in contact for more than a decade. She’d eventually stopped asking, but he knew she still wondered about her uncle.

“Get your stuff together.”

“Dad.” He frowned down at his daughter’s perplexed expression. “Don’t you ever want to see him again? I mean, was what happened really bad?”

“It wasn’t good.” Will made an effort to sound matter-of-fact. “And maybe someday Brett and I will get together and hash things out, but I don’t think it’s going to be any time soon.”

Kylie bit her lip and let the subject go, even though Will knew she wanted—deserved—answers. He couldn’t give her answers just yet. And he didn’t know if he ever could.

They started toward the truck, Will carrying the saddle and blanket and Kylie carrying the halter and rope.

“You know, Dad, you did really good in your demonstration.”

“Thanks, kid.” He appreciated her changing the subject, but he knew they’d be facing it again one of these days.

“You might try talking a little, you know, like Del does. Madison does all right, but I think people’d like to hear you explain more of it.”

“All right,” he said. “I’ll try. Anything else?”

“Nope.” She flipped the end of the rope as she walked. “Sadie was kind of weird today. She kept looking around, instead of watching the performance. And she asked me if I wanted to buy makeup with her when we go to Elko. I said okay, but,” she puckered her forehead, “whenever we put on her mom’s stuff, I forget and rub my eyes and it gets all over.”

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