The Cowboy Next Door & Jenna's Cowboy Hero: The Cowboy Next Door / Jenna's Cowboy Hero. Brenda Minton
back on his head. “You’ll do it again next week.”
“I’m thinking no.” Jay tightened his grip on Buck’s reins because the horse was tossing his head, whinnying to a nearby mare. “I think I’ll stick to roping.”
“Yeah, I think I’m done with bull riding, too. I’ve got a baby on the way.”
“Right, that does sound like a good reason to stop.”
“Yeah, it does.” Cody smiled like a guy who had it all. And he did. He had the wife, a child, the farm and a baby on the way. Jay had a diamond ring in a drawer and a room in his parents’ house. He had a box of memories that he kept hidden in a closet.
“Speaking of wives and babies, I’m going to find my wife.” Cody slapped him on the back again and walked away.
Jay pulled the saddle off the horse and limped to the back of his truck, his knee stiff and his back even stiffer. He tossed the saddle in the back of the truck and then leaned for a minute, wishing again that he hadn’t ridden that bull. Bull riding wasn’t a sport a guy jumped into.
He tried not to think about Lacey’s face in the crowd, pale and wide-eyed as she watched him scramble to the fence, escaping big hooves and an animal that wanted to hurt him.
The horse whinnied, reminding him of work that still needed to be done. He walked back to the animal, rubbing Buck’s sleek neck and then pulling off the bridle, leaving just the halter and lead rope. The horse nodded his head as if he approved.
“I’m getting too old for crazy stunts, Buck.”
“You stayed on.” The feminine voice from behind him was a little soft, a little teasing.
“Yep.”
He turned and smiled at Lacey. She wasn’t a friend, just someone his mom had picked up and brought home. He had friends, people he’d grown up with, gone to church with, known all his life. He didn’t know where to put her, because she didn’t fit those categories. Someone that he knew? A person that needed help? Someone passing through?
He would have preferred she stayed in Jolynn’s apartment, not the house his grandparents had built. Jamie’s house. But she was there now, and he’d deal with it. He moved away from his horse and straightened, raising his hands over his head to stretch the kinks out of his back.
She was here tonight, in his life, because he’d brought her. He had been trying not to think about that, or why he’d extended the offer. Maybe because of the pain in her eyes when she’d looked at those silly dogs her sister had broken.
Who got upset over something like that?
Lacey took cautious steps forward. She held the sleeping baby in one arm and had the diaper bag over her shoulder. She didn’t carry a purse.
“You actually did pretty well,” she encouraged, a shy smile on a face that shouldn’t have been shy. He had never seen her as shy. She was the waitress who never backed down when the guys at the diner gave her a hard time.
“I did stay on, but it wasn’t fun and it isn’t something I want to do again. I think I’ll stick to roping.”
“You won the roping event.” She moved forward, her hand sliding up the rump of his horse. “Want me to do something?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
She stood next to him, her hand on his horse’s neck. She didn’t look at him, and he wondered why. Did she think that by not looking at him, she could hide her secrets?
“I’m going to put the baby in the truck.” She moved away and he let her go. Buck pushed at him with his big, tan head, rubbing his jaw against Jay’s shoulder.
“In the trailer, Buck.” Jay opened the trailer and moved to the side. Buck went in, his hooves pounding on the floor of the trailer, rattling the metal sides as his weight shifted and settled.
“He’s an amazing animal.” Lacey had returned, without the baby. He was tying the horse to the front of the trailer. “When you rope on him, it’s like he knows what you want him to do before you make a move.”
“He’s a smart animal.” Jay latched the trailer.
“Thank you for letting me come with you tonight.”
Jay shrugged, another movement that didn’t feel too great. He stepped back against his trailer and brought her with him, because the truck next to them was pulling forward.
“I didn’t mind.” His hand was still on her arm.
She looked from his hand on her arm to his face. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and she shivered, maybe from the cold night air.
It was dark and the band was playing. Jay could see people two-stepping on a temporary dance floor. Couples scooted in time to the music, and children ran in the open field, catching fireflies.
Lacey smelled like lavender and her arm was soft. She looked up, her eyes dark in a face that was soft, but tough. He moved his hand from her arm and touched her cheek.
She shook her head a little and took a step back, disengaging from his touch. But that small step didn’t undo the moment. She was street-smart and vulnerable and he wanted to see how she felt in his arms.
He wanted to brush away the hurt look in her eyes, and the shame that caused her to look away too often. Instead, he came to his senses and pulled back, letting the moment slip away.
“We should go.” Lacey stepped over the tongue of the trailer and put distance between them. Her arms were crossed and she had lost the vulnerable look. “Jay, whatever that was, it wasn’t real.”
“What?”
“It was moonlight. It was summertime and soft music. It was you being lonely and losing someone you thought you’d spend your life with.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right. But I’m nobody’s moment. Someday I want forever, but I’ll never be a moment again.”
He exhaled a deep breath and whistled low. “Okay, then I guess we should go.”
He felt like the world’s biggest loser.
* * *
Lacey woke up on Sunday morning, glad that she had a day off. If only she’d gotten some sleep, but she hadn’t. Jay had dropped her off at midnight, and wound up from the night, she’d stayed up for two hours, cleaning.
She rolled over in bed, listening to the sound of country life drifting through the open window. Cows mooed from the field and somewhere a rooster crowed. He was a little late, but still trying to tell everyone that it was time to get up.
The baby cried and she heard Corry telling her to shush, as if the baby would listen and not expect to be fed. Lacey sat up and stretched. She had an hour to get ready before church.
When she walked through the door of the dining room, Corry was at the table with a bowl of cereal. Rachel was in the bassinet, arms flailing the air.
“Have you fed her?” Lacey picked up the tiny infant and held her close. The baby fussed too much. “Has she been to a doctor?”
“Give me a break. Like I have the money for that. She’s fine.”
“She’s hungry and she feels warm.”
“So, feed her, mother of the year.”
“I’m not her mother, Corry.”
Corry drank the milk from her bowl and took it to the sink. At least she did that much. Lacey took a deep breath and exhaled the brewing impatience. The baby curled against her shoulder, fist working in her tiny mouth.
“I’ll feed her, you get ready for church.” Lacey held the baby with one arm and reached in the drainer at the edge of the sink for a clean bottle.
“I’m