The Comeback Cowboy

“It’s worth the extra distance just for this.”

Adele eased away from him, piquing his interest. Women generally acted the opposite, hanging all over him if possible. It was either a hazard or a perk of his profession, depending on a guy’s perspective. Ty mostly found it wearisome. Except in Adele’s case. Sharing the same air space with her had definitely been enjoyable.

Apparently not so much for her.

“There are two bedrooms,” she said, walking past the fully equipped kitchenette. “The master and a small guest room. The couch also folds out into a bed. Your rental agreement allows for overnight guests up to three consecutive nights, but you have to report them.”

“Dana will be glad to hear that.” Was it his imagination or did a glint of curiosity flash in Adele’s eyes? “My little sister’s been bugging me to come here and take lessons from you.”

“Oh, really? We’d love to have her,” Adele said, so smoothly that Ty figured he’d been mistaken.

Perhaps because she was so different from the women he usually met, or that she was a roper like himself, he found himself trusting her. Enough to reveal the real reason he’d come to Cowboy College.

He hadn’t expected he would, the idea of enrolling in a roping school for amateurs being hard to swallow. Taking instructions from a woman made it worse. But she’d impressed him in the arena, demonstrating a core of steel.

Like the one he had lost.

“It’s not just my horse,” he said abruptly. “It’s me.”

“What?” She turned to face him, her expression puzzled.

He cleared his throat, freeing the words stuck in it. “The horse I’d been riding the past four years suffered a fractured metacarpal last December in a fall. Right before the National Finals Rodeo. I was ranked second at the time.”

“I know, I read about it in Roper Sports News.”

“I lost more than a gold buckle and a title that day. Iron Grip Ropes had signed me for a sponsorship deal. A very lucrative sponsorship deal.”

“Which was contingent on you winning,” she correctly guessed.

“I competed on a friend’s horse, but lost the championship by one-point-eight seconds.” Ty swallowed. Six months later, the bitter defeat still stung. “I bought Hamm in February after an extensive search. He’s an incredible horse. Big, athletic, strong, fast and smart as a whip. Everything I could want.” Ty paused.

“What’s wrong, then?”

“That one-point-eight seconds. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I train, whatever trick I try, I can’t seem to perform any better on Hamm than I did on my friend’s horse. And I don’t know why.”

“Sometimes the partnership between a rider and horse is off.”

“I’m hoping that’s all it is. Because the alternative, that I’ve somehow lost my competitive edge…well, let’s just say it’s not acceptable.”

He went to Adele and took her hand in his. The calluses on her palm from years of roping were in stark contrast to the silky smooth skin on the back of her hand. Like her, he thought—tough on one side, soft on the other.

“This isn’t easy for me to ask, Adele. But I need your help.”

She gazed at their joined hands for several seconds, then lifted her eyes to his. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good. Because the Buffalo Bill Cody Stampede Rodeo is less than four weeks away, and I have to win.”

Chapter Two

Adele stood with Pop on the fence beside the chute and watched Ty position his horse in the roping box. People who weren’t involved in rodeoing had no idea how many hours were spent training for the sport by studying others from the sidelines.

“What do you think?” Pop asked.

“Good-looking horse.”

“Real nice looking.”

So was the rider, but Adele kept that opinion to herself. Ty sat tall in the saddle, his Stetson angled low over his eyes, his Western cut shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. She wondered if he’d object to having his picture taken for their next website updates.

Almost immediately, she changed her mind. Ty had come to Cowboy College because of a problem, one he hoped to correct. It would be thoughtless and insensitive of her to take advantage of his misfortune in order to advance the ranch.

Ready at last, Ty signaled the wrangler, who pulled back the gate on the chute and released the calf. Ty’s run, over in the span of a few heartbeats, was a good one. Not, however, spectacular. And spectacular runs were needed to win World championships.

“What do you think his problem is?” Adele asked her grandfather as Ty exited the arena.

“Not saying yet.” Pop waved to Ty and pointed at the box, indicating for him to take another run.

Ty’s admiration of her grandfather yesterday afternoon wasn’t unfounded. Pop had been National tie-down roping champion for three years straight in the late 1950s, and again in 1963, before permanently retiring. Granted, things were done a little differently in those days, but the basic sport had remained the same.

One aspect not the same was the popularity of tie-down roping. That had grown tremendously in recent years, especially among amateurs. Not only did horse people with an interest in roping participate, so did thrill-seekers looking to try something new, urbanites wanting to experience the cowboy life, and even companies offering team-building retreats for their employees.

The increase in popularity was what had given Adele the idea to start Cowboy College. Her business savvy combined with her grandfather’s experience made a winning combination. Together they’d turned a run-down ranch into a thriving enterprise.

Seven Cedars hadn’t always been in trouble. For three decades after her grandparents bought the place, they’d run a modestly successful cattle business. Then, during Adele’s junior year at university, her grandmother had died unexpectedly from an aneurysm. Pop sank into grief, letting the ranch go. Adele’s father wasn’t able to leave his job and move his second family from Texas to tend the ranch. Until Adele arrived after graduation, no one realized how bad the situation at Seven Cedars, and Pop’s depression, had gotten.

Cowboy College not only breathed new life into the ranch, it gave her grandfather a purpose again. Within a year, they’d opened their doors, and had grown steadily in the six years since. Guests came from all over the country now, spending anywhere from a long weekend to weeks on end.

Ty Boudeau, however, was their first ever professional roper.

His horse, Hamm, lined up in the box with only the smallest amount of urging. “Go!” he shouted. As on the first run, the wrangler released the calf and Ty successfully roped it in a respectable time.

“He could do this all day and it wouldn’t be any different,” Adele commented.

“I’m afraid you’re right.” Pop rolled the toothpick stuck in his mouth from one side to the other. He was rarely without one since giving up chewing tobacco years earlier. Another of his doctor’s mandates.

“The horse isn’t taking one wrong step,” Adele commented, “and Ty’s doing exactly what he should be doing.”

“But the magic just isn’t happening.”

“Could his problem be lack of confidence?”

Pop shrugged. “Possibly. Losing a world championship when you’re as close as he was could set anyone back.”

“Except Ty doesn’t strike me as lacking confidence.” In or out of the arena, thought Adele.

But then, he’d lost much more than the championship. Sponsorship deals, good ones, didn’t grow on trees, and had launched more than one athlete on a successful post-competing career.

“You never know,” Pop mused out loud. “He could be putting on a good front. My guess is it’s the horse.”

Adele shot her grandfather a sideways look. “You just agreed Hamm’s a nice horse.”

“But he isn’t Ty’s other horse. Don’t get me wrong. The boy was always a good roper, one to watch since he began competing in junior rodeo. He didn’t come on strong until four years ago, when he got that horse. It was a perfect partnership. Now he’s lost that partner.”

“I think Hamm has the potential to be every bit as good as Ty’s other horse.”

“Maybe even better.”

Adele nodded in agreement. “He just has to realize that.”

“I’m thinking he already does.” Pop’s expression became pensive. “Recovering from a loss isn’t easy, be it someone you’ve loved or a dream you’ve held. Something inside dies. There’s no miracle cure and no set timetable for recovery. Ty will come back when he’s ready.” Pop turned a fond smile on Adele. “Or when someone shows him the way.”

She patted his hand in return, recalling their early days of Cowboy College. “You could be right.”

Stepping off the fence, she pushed a damp strand of hair off her face. The temperature might be only in the low seventies, but the bright morning sun beat down on them, warming her through and through. “If he were anyone else but Ty Boudeau, I’d recommend the beginners’ class. The best way to get to know your horse is by starting with the basics.”

Pop also stepped off the fence. “Why not Ty?”

“He’s…one of the best ropers out there. He doesn’t need a beginners’ class.”

“Are you sure? Could be just the ticket.”

“He’ll laugh in our faces, then pack his bags.”

“He won’t laugh if he’s committed.” Pop moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “And Ty strikes me as a man with a mission.”

“Excuse me for disagreeing.”

“Relax, Dellie. You know it’s a good idea. Ty Boudeau has everything it takes to be the next World Champion. And when he is, he’s gonna be thanking you and me.”

“Okay,” she grumbled. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell him he has to take the beginners’ class. You are.”

“ISN’T THIS PLACE great? My husband and I arrived just a few days ago. We’ve never been here before. Have you?”

The woman astride the horse standing beside Ty had been rambling nonstop for five minutes solid, not caring if he answered her question or not before going on to the next one.

It was different being around people who didn’t recognize him. Different and unsettling. When had he become so accustomed to the attention?

“How’d you get into roping? My husband rodeoed some when he was growing up. We saw a show on cable TV about couples roping, and decided to give it a try. And now we’re hooked. Me, not so much.”

The woman paused to take a breath. Ty used the lull to observe Adele.

She stood on the ground giving instructions to the group, which was comprised of about a dozen beginner ropers. Ty only half listened. He was quite familiar with the training technique she described—a fake calf head attached to a bale of hay and pulled by a wrangler driving an ATV. The group had assembled in one of the smaller arenas beside the barn, away from the ropers practicing in the main arena, in case the ATV spooked their horses.

“I can’t believe I’m actually taking a roping class.” The woman untangled her reins for the third time.

“Me, either.”

When Pop had proposed the idea that Ty participate in the afternoon beginners’ class, he’d balked. Then he learned Adele would be teaching it. That, and the arguments Pop had presented about getting back to basics, convinced Ty to give one—and only one—class a try. He told himself it wasn’t because he found Adele attractive. Rather, he wanted to see if she could teach as well as she roped. His decision to remain at Cowboy College depended on the outcome.

She continued explaining how the wrangler would take off on the ATV, and that the riders should allow their horses to follow the calf head and bale of hay, rather than attempt to direct them. Yeah, yeah. Ty suppressed a yawn.

His cell phone rang a minute later, coming just when he thought he’d reached his boredom threshold. Unclipping the phone from his belt, he checked the screen. A photo of his younger sister appeared with her name above it.

“Sorry, I need to take this call,” he told the students nearest him, and nudged Hamm into a fast walk away from the group. Stopping about twenty feet away, he answered the call. “Hey, Dana.”

From his chosen spot, he could see Adele frowning at him. Too late, Ty realized there was probably something in the rules and regulations he hadn’t yet read about no cell-phone calls during class. Oh, well, he’d already screwed up.

“How’s it going, bro?”

“Not so great.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sitting here in a beginners’ class.”

“Really! Doing what? Showing the students how it’s done?”

“No, attending. Actually, attending as little as possible.”

“I guess a refresher course never hurts.”

He should have figured Dana would agree with Pop’s suggestion, being it was her idea to come to Cowboy College.

“Right. I could be doing this in my sleep.”

“So prove it.”

“You’re not serious.” He laughed.

“I am, Ty. You need to figure out what’s not working, and fix it. Taking a beginner class might seem ridiculous, but you need a new perspective, and I’m all for trying anything. You should be, too, if you want to win that championship.”

Ty tamped down his rising annoyance. It had been a long time since anyone had lectured him. A long time since he’d felt he deserved a lecture.

A quick glance at Adele confirmed yet another talking-to might be in store for him. She looked about as happy with him as his sister sounded.

“This isn’t easy for me, Dana.” The admission came with an uncomfortable tightening in his gut.

“I know, honey. But I’m one of the people who has your back, remember?”

“And I appreciate it.”

“You couldn’t have two better experts there.”

“I agree with you about Pop Donnelly. And I wouldn’t mind half so much if he was teaching the class.”

“What’s wrong with Adele Donnelly?”

There was nothing wrong with her that Ty could see. It was his ego having the problem. Granted, he’d asked for her help yesterday, but that was in a weak moment. This morning, when he’d faced himself in the bathroom mirror, he wished he’d asked Pop for help instead.

It wasn’t too late. He’d get through this one class and seek out the older man. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like so much of a loser. Or have an entire group of people witnessing his shame.

“You practice with a woman roper,” Dana prompted.

“It’s different with you.”

“Because I’m not competing against you in the same sport?”

“Yikes.” Ty grimaced. “That smarts.”

“Give Adele a chance before you hightail it out of there.”

How did his sister know he’d been contemplating leaving? “Fine. I promise to stay another couple days.”

“You said a month.” Her tone dared him to defy her.

“Okay, okay. You win.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” They disconnected after saying goodbye.

Ty silenced his cell phone and walked Hamm over to the group, smiling apologetically to his classmates and Adele, who blatantly ignored him. All right, he deserved that. Leaning forward and propping a forearm on the saddle horn, he made an effort to really listen to her. After several minutes passed, he had to agree she knew her stuff. She certainly had the attention of all the students.

“Are we ready to try? Who wants to go first?”

Hands shot into the air, none of them Ty’s.

“All right, how about you, Mike?” She picked the husband of the woman Ty’d been talking to earlier.

He sat quietly on Hamm, watching Mike and the others take their turns one by one. He easily and quickly spotted the errors with each student. Adele did, too, and patiently explained it to them in laymen’s terms the students could comprehend. When everyone had done it, Adele’s gaze landed on him.

“You’re up next, Ty.”

He moved into position behind the bale of hay. Hamm pawed the ground, far more eager to get started than his owner.

“Wait. We’re going to do this a little differently with you. Put up your rope.”

“My rope?”

“Then drop your reins and kick your feet out of the stirrups.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No hands, no legs.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You don’t think you can stay seated?” Her green eyes flashed up at him.

He attached his lasso to his saddle with the rope strap. “Ma’am, I can break a green horse riding bareback and with one hand tied behind my back.”

“Then this should be a cakewalk for you.” She stepped away from him.

With a shrug of his shoulders, his hands resting on his thighs and his legs dangling, he waited for the wrangler to take off on the ATV.

“One more thing,” Adele said, the lowered brim of her cowboy hat partially hiding her face. “You have to do it with your eyes closed.”

“Excuse me?”

“Eyes closed, Mr. Boudeau.”

Was she smiling?

Ty decided to go along with her rather than put up a fight. He’d promised Dana, and besides, the students might learn something from watching him.

“Go!” he told the wrangler.

Hamm took off after the bale of hay as if it were the real thing. Because the wrangler didn’t drive the ATV very fast, Hamm’s gait was an easy lope rather than a full-out gallop, as it would be in the arena.

Ty set down deep in the saddle, adjusting himself to the horse’s rhythm. Trying to, he amended. It wasn’t as easy as he might have guessed. Not with his eyes closed and his legs dangling. As the driver zigzagged, mimicking the course a calf might take, Ty felt—really felt—the nuances of Hamm’s muscles bunching and releasing when he changed directions. Ty shifted accordingly, to compensate for the horse’s movements, thinking about it rather than doing it instinctively as he should.

After thirty feet, the wrangler slowed to a stop. Hamm also slowed. Opening his eyes, Ty used the pressure of his legs to guide his horse in a circle and back toward the group. Once there, he stopped and rubbed his neck, contemplating what had just happened.

“You look perplexed,” Adele said, studying him.

“Not that so much,” he answered.

She’d put him through a very basic exercise, one, he realized in hindsight, he should have tried himself. Perhaps if he had, the results wouldn’t be quite so startling.

Ty trusted himself as a rider. What he’d learned today was that he didn’t trust Hamm. Not entirely and not enough. His other horse’s accident had robbed Ty of that vital component to a successful rider-horse partnership, and the tiny fear that it would happen again was causing him to hold back.

“Ty?” Adele asked.

He grinned suddenly and waved to the wrangler to come back around.

“I want to go again.”

“HEY, ADELE, hold on a minute.”

Hearing her name, she stopped and turned to see Ty hurrying after her. Uh-oh. He was probably annoyed at her for what she’d pulled on him during class earlier. Squaring her shoulders, she waited for him to catch up, committed to defending her actions.

“Can I help you with something?” She smiled, pretending she didn’t notice the Ben Affleck–like perfection of Ty’s strong, dimpled chin or the fluttering in her middle that ogling his chin caused. “Perhaps a copy of the rules and regulations you obviously lost.”

“I guess I deserve that.” He returned her smile with a healthy dose of chagrin. “No more phone calls. You have my word.”

She was glad to see he didn’t take offense at her more-serious-than-humorous jest. Rules were rules, in place for a reason, and Ty Boudeau didn’t get to break them just because he was a professional roper.

“You’re allowed one mistake before we start giving demerits. Ten demerits, however, and you’re kicked off the ranch.”

His startled expression was so comical, she almost laughed. “I’m joking.”

The hint of a twinkle lit his eyes. “You’re good, you know.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice keeping unruly students in line.”

“No denying I’m one of those unruly students in need of lining out, but that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“You’re good at spotting what a person’s doing wrong. Me included.”

She knitted her brows in confusion. “I didn’t notice you doing anything wrong.”

“Maybe not exactly. But the exercise helped me understand some things about myself. Things that need fixing.”

“Not many competitors at your level would admit to that. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. I’m usually thickheaded. A good suggestion could be driving a Mack truck straight at me, and I’d ignore it.”

“I’ll remember that next time.”

He moved closer. “I just wanted was to thank you for the help.”

“You’re welcome.” She worried that he was going to take her hand again. Relief flooded her when he didn’t. One intimate encounter was more than she could handle. “Have a productive remainder of your day, Mr. Boudeau.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to pick your brain sometime when you have a minute.”

She debated refusing his request. In the end, she decided to grant it. He was a paying guest, after all, and part of the fees they charged entitled students to “pick her brain,” as he said.

“I’m heading over to check on one of our expectant mares. You can come with me if you like.”

His dark eyes, arresting to begin with, lit up. “I would.”

“I’m not keeping you from anything important, am I?”

He fell step in beside her. “Only the horde of adoring female fans waiting for me in the lobby.”

She momentarily faltered. “If you have to go…”

“I’m kidding.” He flashed her his heart-stopping grin.

It appeared she was just as gullible as him.

He surprised her during their walk with the questions he asked, which were detailed and thought provoking. Did tie-down straps really help horses stop faster, or hinder them? How did she feel about the new Professional Cowboy Association regulations, and did they affect her teaching methods? What kind of personal fitness regime, if any, did she recommend for her students?

More than once, Adele found herself examining the techniques of roping from a different and enlightening perspective.

“Here’s where Pop and I keep our private stock,” she told Ty when they entered the smallest of the ranch’s three barns. At the end of the aisle, they came to a double-wide stall separated from the other horses by twenty feet and a six-foot wall.

“And this is Crackers,” Adele said by way of introduction.

Upon seeing her, the heavily pregnant mare nickered softly and lumbered over from the corner where she’d been standing, to hang her shaggy head over the stall door.

Adele stroked the animal’s neck. “She was my first barrel-racing horse. Gosh, was that really fourteen years ago?”

“Did you compete professionally?” Ty asked. He stood beside her, his elbow propped on the stall door.

“A little in college.”

“Any good?”

“All right.”

“Why’d you quit?”

She absently combed her fingers through Crackers’s mane. “I came here after graduation to help Pop with the ranch. He’d turned seventy, and his arthritis was getting bad. He needed help, and I needed a job.” She didn’t mention her grandmother’s death. “I’ve always loved Seven Cedars, and spent a lot of time here when I was growing up.”

“Did your parents rodeo?”

“My dad. Though he never did all that well, and moved to Texas years ago. My mom traveled the rodeo circuit considerably longer than Dad, but not to compete.”

Adele didn’t elaborate. Despite Ty’s friendliness, she wasn’t ready to confess that her mother had taken up with whatever cowboy would have her, dropping Adele off with her grandparents if her father wouldn’t have her. As her mother aged and her looks faded, those cowboys went from being competitors to bullfighters to stock handlers. In between men, she’d find a small place to rent for herself and Adele, but only until another man came along. For a young girl feeling unloved and unwanted, Seven Cedars became a haven in an otherwise turbulent childhood.

“So, Pop taught you to rope.”