A Cowboy's Claim

Damn, Tanya was good for his ego.

“A lot of cowboys study the way you ride, but none of them, including Beau, has ever picked up on the way you hold the buck rein.” She smiled. “But I did.”

Learning that his competition paid close attention to his performances was unnerving. He’d rather believe the cowboys were just watching to see if he’d fall on his head. “What about the buck rein?”

“Most of the guys prefer a thicker, tightly braided rein and a full handgrip. But your buck rein is loosely braided and you hold it between your third and fourth fingers.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I know.” Her eyes sparkled. “I also noticed that you feed extra rein to the horse when his head drops too low.”

“Everybody has their own technique.”

“True, but the thick rein is less flexible.” She sucked her drink dry. “Beau tried to copy you, but he never got the hang of it. Now you’re just stuck in his head.”

“I had a little help early on in my career.”

“From who?”

“A friend.” He didn’t want to go into detail about his relationship with Riley Fitzgerald. Vic liked to keep his past private. No one needed to know he’d been raised in one of the most dangerous barrios in Albuquerque.

“Ladies and gentlemen, up next is Beau Billings!” A throng of women screamed the cowboy’s name and held up signs with their phone numbers on them. Vic found it amusing that Tanya appeared unfazed by her ex-husband’s fan club.

“What?” she asked.

He struggled not to grin. He hadn’t been tempted to smile this often in one day let alone one month since he suffered the injury to his face.

“Beau Billings hails from Sierra Vista, Arizona, and right now this cowboy is ranked number sixteen in the country.” The announcer’s voice echoed through the sound system. It was time for Vic to leave, but he was reluctant to say goodbye—a first for him. Tanya was the only woman in longer than he could remember who appeared relaxed in his company. It would be too easy to let his guard down.

Vic watched Billings prepare for his ride. He paced in front of the chute, his strides short and choppy. The man was nervous. He’d drawn a better bronc than Vic, so his chances of earning a higher score were his for the taking.

“Billings has been paired with Shake Down, a three-year-old gelding from the Dale Anderson Ranch near Big Piney. Let’s see if this cowboy can beat Vicario’s eighty-nine.”

Billings straddled the bronc, and Vic’s gaze zeroed in on the buck rein. The cowboy played with his grip and the horse grew nervous in the chute.

“He takes too long,” Tanya said. “You take ten seconds max.”

Obviously she’d been watching Vic perform for a while. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. The chute opened and Shake Down lunged into the arena. The horse landed awkwardly on his front hooves and Billings had to fight from the get-go to keep from being bucked off. The bronc couldn’t find its rhythm and Billings’s spurring was erratic—the perfect combination for a low score.

The buzzer rang and Billings jumped for safety. “Looks like Shake Down gave our cowboy a run for his money today. Let’s see what the judges think.” The crowd applauded, but the noise level had dropped noticeably. Rodeo fans knew the difference between a great ride and a mediocre one. Billings’s performance had been average at best.

“An eighty-five for Billings! Better luck next time, cowboy!”

Billings spotted Tanya and Vic in the stands and his scowl deepened. As much as Vic enjoyed Tanya’s company, it was time to part ways. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Sure. See you...somewhere.” Her smile was genuine—not flirty.

Good thing or he’d have been tempted to scratch his ride later in Livingston and spend the night in a motel room with Tanya.

* * *

TANYA WATCHED VIC’S backside disappear into the crowd. She’d spent thirty-five minutes with him, which was thirty minutes longer than she thought he’d put up with her. Vic was a loner and Beau wasn’t the first cowboy to have nothing good to say about him. But Tanya found his quiet personality a nice break from the braggarts on the circuit. And she’d felt a sense of camaraderie with Vic—her competition hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms, either. They’d given her weird stares and stilted greetings as if they wished she’d remained retired from the sport—not because she was any real threat but because of the attention she and Slingshot drew at the rodeos.

A car accident had ended Tanya’s barrel-racing career before she’d been ready to call it quits. She blamed Beau’s cheating for robbing her of that last season. It had taken months for her to recover from her injuries and put her failed marriage behind her once she’d signed the divorce papers. Now she was back on the circuit to say a final goodbye to the sport.

“What the hell are you doing with Vicario?” Beau walked—rather limped—toward Tanya.

Ignoring the question, she asked, “Did you sprain your knee?” Beau had been cursed with weak joints to go along with his weak morals.

“Don’t change the subject.”

Beau didn’t love her anymore—if he ever did. But he was a sore loser. He’d fought the divorce tooth and nail, suggesting marriage counseling, but she’d refused. Once a cheater, always a cheater. She made a move to step past him, but he snagged her arm.

“What’s with you and Vicario?”

“None of your business.”

“The man has ice in his veins, Tanya. You don’t know anything about him. Nobody does.”

“We’re divorced.” She planted her hands on her hips. “That means you don’t get a say in which men I choose to date, kiss or have sex with.”

Beau’s jaw dropped and Tanya cringed when she noticed the attention they’d drawn. Typical Beau—always making a scene.

“When are you and that dumb horse of yours going to call it quits?” Beau’s self-esteem grew when he made other people and animals feel worthless. “You and Slingshot are the laughingstock of the circuit.”

She’d listened to enough of his crap. Without a word—because Beau hated it when she didn’t fight back—she headed to the stock pens to find her stepfather. He intercepted her halfway there.

“Tanya!” Mason Coldwater was in his early sixties and she’d known him since she’d been a young girl. “We need to head home.”

“I thought you wanted to stay for the bull riding?” She followed him out to the parking lot and got into his brand-new Lincoln.

“Your horse is causing trouble again.” He started the engine and flipped on the air-conditioning.

“What has he done now?” she asked.

“Jumped the damned fence. Took forever for Raymond to catch him. And when he put Slingshot in the barn, the horse kicked the stall door down.”

“Next time I’ll—”

“There shouldn’t be a next time, Tanya.” After Mason merged onto the highway, he said, “You’re a horse trainer. Not a barrel racer anymore. I need you at the farm. Raymond’s not working out.”

Raymond Gonzales was the trainer Mason had hired to replace Tanya after she began rodeoing earlier in the year. “Ray has a solid reputation.”

“Come back to the farm and help Raymond. Then if you still want to compete next year, I’ll help you choose a decent horse.”

It wouldn’t matter how many Red Rock horses Mason offered her, he’d find an excuse to bring her back home. She understood his and her mother’s fear that she’d injure her leg again. The surgeon had warned that if she broke her left leg again, she might end up walking with a permanent limp. The rehab had been so painful that Tanya hadn’t given a thought to competing again until Slingshot had ended up at the farm. The stubborn horse had convinced Tanya that not only did he deserve a second chance to prove himself, but so did she.

Mason paid her a decent salary to train his Appaloosas, and she loved working with the horses. She especially loved the challenge Slingshot presented. It took a month at the farm before the horse’s difficult personality became evident, and then Mason had wanted to sell him. Tanya had talked him out of it and had worked tirelessly with the horse, but had made minimal progress. So she’d suggested that Mason allow her to work Slingshot’s kinks out on the circuit. Mason had been reluctant, but Tanya had persisted until he caved in.

“Slingshot’s getting restless,” she said. “He’s ready to compete again.”

“I think the damned horse doesn’t like being separated from you.”

“We have a love-hate relationship.”

“Maybe you should give him a different name.”

Slingshot lived up to his name and then some. He burst out of the alley and broke the barrier like a rock in a slingshot. The only problem was that his momentum made his turns sloppy and he sacrificed valuable seconds getting around the barrels.

“And he’s damned ugly,” Mason muttered.

The mud-brown horse had no markings, and if you saw him in a lineup with other horses, your gaze would skip over him. But Slingshot had heart—not even Mason could argue with that. The gelding came from a strong bloodline of barrel racers. His legs were straight with no bumps or scars—he hadn’t been in any accidents or mishaps—and he possessed a strong back and healthy hooves. Slingshot was built to run, but he was a mystery—just like Victor Vicario—and it was anyone’s guess which one would be easier to tame.

Chapter Two

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the women’s barrel-racing event at the JUAB County Fairgrounds here in beautiful Nephi, Utah.”

Tanya stood with Slingshot, waiting for her turn to enter the alley. She hoped the beast would behave today. She tugged his head lower and whispered in his ear. “Be a sweet boy out there. It’s okay if we lose, just don’t go rogue on me.”

“Hey, Tanya!”

She swallowed a groan. Samantha Martinez, the nineteen-year-old up-and-coming star of barrel racing, entered the line with her horse, Prince Charming. “Have you considered that maybe Slingshot misbehaves because he’s suffering from an undiagnosed injury?”

“You wouldn’t by chance be accusing me of abusing my horse?”

Samantha’s eyes rounded and she sucked in a fake gasp. “Of course not.” Then she shrugged her rhinestone shoulders.

What a little snot. A veterinarian had examined Slingshot and had given him a clean bill of health. The horse’s orneriness was all in his head.

“Sometimes it’s not the horse but the owner.” Samantha smiled. “Maybe Slingshot just doesn’t like you.”

Tanya’s gut coiled in a knot. She’d wondered the same thing but hadn’t had the courage to admit it out loud. What if she’d read Slingshot wrong and he didn’t want to compete? Hating Samantha for undermining her confidence, she said, “Don’t you have a prom to get ready for?”

The cowgirl jerked as if she’d been slapped. Jeez, the girl could dish it out, but she couldn’t take it. Tanya regretted snapping at the stuck-up princess, but darn it, her sureness was already lower than the water table in Death Valley.

“You and Slingshot ready?”

Vic stood behind the barrier gate that blocked off one side of the alley. He wasn’t smiling—he never did—but his eyes glinted with warmth. Ten days had passed since she last saw him in Wyoming, and not an hour had gone by that he hadn’t crossed her mind—sometimes more than once or twice. Dare she hope that he’d thought of her, too?

“I’m ready.” She smiled, her heart pumping faster. “But it’s always a crapshoot with my horse.”

“Did you make a practice run?”

She shook her head. Would he think she was nuts for giving up her time slot earlier in the day? She hadn’t wanted to take the chance that Slingshot would injure himself or throw her and knock her out of the competition this afternoon. “We’re trying something different.”

He didn’t comment on her decision, which she appreciated, since she’d already questioned it herself. “You’ve had a good run so far this month.” Who cared if Vic knew she stalked his schedule?

“I’ve been lucky.”

Lucky her fanny. Pure talent had pushed Vic upward in the standings. “You ready to bust your bronc tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winked.

Holy smokes, was Vic flirting with her? Another barrel racer’s name was announced and the rider took off down the alley. Tanya was next.

“Good luck.” Vic tipped his hat and disappeared.

Tanya pushed the cowboy out of her head and hoisted herself onto Slingshot’s back. He stamped his hooves and she patted his neck. “C’mon, big guy. Show Vic what you can do.”

“Up next is Tanya McGee from Longmont, Colorado. She and Slingshot need to beat sixteen seconds to take over first place.”

Tanya would be happy with twenty-five seconds if Slingshot behaved. The arena attendant signaled and she tapped her boot heels. Then Slingshot raced down the alley and burst through the electronic eye that triggered the timer. They headed straight for the first barrel on the right. With one hand on the saddle horn, she sank deep in her seat, using the reins to guide him. She squeezed his flanks, holding her inside leg securely against his girth, giving him a focal point for the turn. Slingshot executed the turn perfectly and raced in the opposite direction toward the second barrel. She felt him ready himself a second too early and she held on when her leg scraped the barrel, which thankfully remained upright.

To complete the cloverleaf pattern, she and Slingshot raced through the middle toward the rear of the arena, opposite the entrance. Slingshot was going too fast to make the turn and Tanya pulled back on the reins, signaling him to slow up, but the stubborn gelding ignored her and took out the barrel before returning to the alley at an impressive speed.

“Well, folks, if Slingshot hadn’t hit that barrel he’d have clocked a time good enough for second place. Too bad a five-second penalty puts Tanya McGee and Slingshot dead last. Better luck next time, cowgirl!”

Tanya hopped off Slingshot. “Good boy.” She patted his shoulder, but he jerked his head away as if he knew they’d lost. Okay, fine. Be a jerk. She walked him outside the arena past the livestock pens until he cooled down. Then she hitched him to the back of her trailer next to his water and feed. “You rest while I watch Vic.”

Tanya had four days to make it to the Rockin’ Horse Ranch in Moriarty, New Mexico, for the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association barrel-racing event. If Slingshot didn’t place in the top three, Mason had warned Tanya, he’d no longer fund her rodeo expenses. She either returned to the farm with Slingshot or paid her own way on the circuit.

With her meager savings, Tanya might be able to compete through the end of July. If Slingshot turned around by then, maybe Mason would give the horse a third chance and pay the cost of their entry fees, gas and lodging for another month or two. She bought a diet cola, found a seat in the shaded section of the grandstand and waited for the saddle-bronc event to begin.

“Darcy, are you going to the Muggy Rim after the rodeo?”

Tanya eavesdropped on the three buckle bunnies sitting two rows below her. They were a walking advertisement for rodeo bling—rhinestone-studded blouses, belts and boots. Their fake fingernails glittered and even the blush on their cheeks sparkled. When they sat side by side, none of them stood out from the other. What did Beau see in these female zirconias? Didn’t the women realize they were being used? No real cowboy would bring home all that glitz to meet his mama.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said.

“If Beau Billings is going, I’m for sure gonna be there.” The only brunette in the group spoke.

“Beau is so over you, Sasha. Move on to another cowboy,” a dark blonde with purple eye shadow said. “Right, Darcy?”

“You two can fight over Beau,” Darcy said. “I want Victor Vicario. I love a mysterious man.”

“He scares me,” Sasha said. “He never smiles, huh, Heather?”

“Nope and I’ve always wondered how he got that scar on his face,” Heather said.

Darcy fluffed her platinum-blond curls. “There’s nothing I like better than a challenge.”

Sasha’s laugh grated on Tanya’s nerves. “If anyone can get Vic’s attention, you can, Darcy. I bet you get him into bed on the first try.”

Tanya’s stomach churned with jealousy and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from warning the woman away from Victor.

“Folks, it looks like we’re ready to kick off the saddle-bronc competition. We’ve got a handful of top-notch contenders this afternoon. The first cowboy up is Victor Vicario. Vicario is coming out of the gate on Sidewinder, a two-time national champion bronc.”

Tanya ignored the giggles and shouts of the buckle bunnies and focused on Vic as he prepared for his ride. He straddled the bronc and adjusted his grip. Then he looked up into the stands and Tanya sucked in a quick breath. Was he searching for her?

“Oh my God,” Darcy said. “He’s looking right at me.” She waved a poster with her name and phone number in black and pink glitter.

Vic dropped his head, then nodded and the gate swung open. Sidewinder spun wildly, but Vic rode the bronc like a walk in the park. Man and beast danced and sparred to the cheers of the fans. When the buzzer sounded, Vic hung on until he saw an opening and then launched himself at the ground. He hit the dirt, rolled twice and popped to his feet. The crowd went crazy.

“Scar or no scar, he can ride me anytime, any place,” Darcy said.

Tanya left the bleachers before she said something to the women that she’d regret. She made her way to the cowboy ready area, her eyes peeled for Vic.

“You looking for me?”

She turned and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

His glance skipped across her face before he locked gazes with her.

“Nice ride,” she said.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence settled between them before she asked, “Do you have plans after the rodeo?”

“I ride at eight o’clock in Vernal tonight.”

The town was three hours north, and it was only one-thirty in the afternoon. Vic had time to eat before he hit the road. “Want to grab a burger at the Muggy Rim?” If Darcy and her friends saw Vic with Tanya, maybe they’d leave him alone and focus on another unsuspecting cowboy.

“Sure.” The tense set of his shoulders relaxed and Tanya read it as a signal that Vic wanted to spend time with her.

“I need to turn Slingshot loose in the corral before we leave. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in ten minutes.” Tanya hurried off to take care of her horse, telling herself that the only reason she’d suggested the Muggy Rim was that the bar was close by and not because she wanted to prevent Darcy from sneaking off to a motel room for an afternoon quickie with Vic.

* * *

VIC TURNED HIS pickup into the gravel lot of the Muggy Rim and parked near the front entrance. The rodeo was still in full swing and the majority of the cowboys and fans wouldn’t arrive until after the bull-riding event.

“Have you been here before?” Vic asked, the question breaking the silence that had accompanied them during the five-minute ride into Nephi.

“Once,” she said. “What about you?”

“A few times. Their burgers are good.” He got out of the truck and shut the door, then took a deep breath, hoping the fresh air would clear the lingering scent of Tanya’s perfume from his head. The earthy aroma made him think of dark corners, slow music and naked bodies pressing together.

Whoa. This wasn’t a date—even though he found her attractive and wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. The only reason he’d sought Tanya out at the rodeo was that he was lonely. He’d been lonely a long, long time—by his choice—and he couldn’t say for sure what it was about her that had drawn him into the open. No matter, nothing could come of his interest in her, because he couldn’t afford any distractions this season. He had too much riding on the line.

He opened the saloon door, and a gust of wind lifted Tanya’s hair off her shoulders, the long strands brushing his chest as she stepped past him. A wave of lust gripped his stomach. He’d inhale a burger and then hit the road before he did something stupid like ask her to dance.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I’m starving.” She led the way to a table near the dance floor.

“What can I get you folks to drink?” A waitress wearing a black T-shirt with Muggy Rim printed in white letters across the front stopped at their table.

“I’ll take an iced tea,” Tanya said.

“Make mine a sweet tea.” He’d need the sugar to keep going the rest of the day.

“If you know what you want to eat, I’ll put your order in before I get your drinks.”

“Sure,” Tanya said. “Cheeseburger, hold the onions.”

“Fries?” the waitress asked. Tanya shook her head.

“I’ll have a double cheeseburger with everything. And fries.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Someone dropped a quarter in the jukebox and a Miranda Lambert song came on. Tanya glanced toward the dance floor, but Vic pretended interest in the baseball game televised on the TV behind the bar.

“I wish I had just a little bit of that winning streak you’re running on,” she said.

“All winning streaks come to an end eventually.” He hoped his streak ended after winning a buckle in Vegas later this year.

“So...” She peeked at him from beneath light brown lashes.

Alarm bells went off inside his head, and the cushioned seat beneath his backside turned to cement.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Her cheeks flushed pink.

“No one steady.” No one period. He didn’t want to give Tanya the idea that he was open to a relationship, but he was curious. “You?”

She shook her head. “Who’s got time, right?” A shadow covered her blue eyes. Then she blinked and it disappeared.

“Is your ex making it tough for you to date?” He wasn’t an expert on relationships, but he was a guy and he knew firsthand that guys could be jerks.

“Not in the way you mean.” She opened her mouth to explain, but the waitress appeared with their drinks.

“Food should be up in ten minutes.”

Against his better judgment, Vic prompted Tanya to confide in him. “I’m a good listener if you want someone to unload on.”

“I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

“Nothing about you is boring.” Damn. Like an inexperienced poker player, he’d just shown his hand. Tanya was too easy to talk to and he hadn’t had a meaningful conversation with anyone in months. Each day he spoke to numerous people—convenience-store clerks, rodeo personnel and waitresses—but they were just words.

“Beau said he’d always dreamed of marrying the girl next door.” She sipped her tea. “Then after I caught him cheating—which I later came to find out was actually the fourth buckle bunny he’d slept with behind my back—he admitted that I wasn’t exciting enough for him.” She snorted.

Holy hell. Beau Billings was a bigger fool than Vic first believed. Tanya McGee didn’t have a buckle bunny body, but that didn’t make her any less hot in Vic’s eyes. “His loss.”

“Thanks.” She blew out a soft sigh. “Beau’s a sore loser. At first he tried to talk me out of filing for a divorce, insisting we should start a family. That being a father would keep him grounded.”

Family. The word made Vic nauseated. His only brother died years ago, killed by police during an armed robbery. Vic’s older sister by one year had committed suicide after she was raped by a gangbanger and discovered she was pregnant. His younger sister by ten years had gotten pregnant at seventeen and ended up in jail for prostitution, leaving his mother with custody of her only grandson. “Do you want kids?”

“Not with Beau, that’s for sure.” Her gaze softened. “But yes, someday I’d like to have a family of my own.”

Vic didn’t care to talk about family—he hadn’t had a good experience with his. “I thought Slingshot might come through for you this afternoon. That horse can run.”

“I’m not crazy for thinking Slingshot has it in him to win, right?”

“Maybe after a year of competition he’ll get his legs under him.”