The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel. Pamela Britton
in his eyes.
“Still,” she said. “I don’t want to take advantage. Even at cost, I doubt I could afford any of it.”
He didn’t say anything, and when she finally got the nerve to look up at him, she noticed the most bizarre expression on his face.
“What?” she asked.
He rubbed his chin. “Ah. Yeah. Like I said. I’ll take care of it. You can pay me back slowly if you want.”
“Chance—”
“No arguments,” he interrupted. “This is your safety we’re talking about. You need to be prepared.”
She couldn’t argue that point, so she continued eating her breakfast, feeling his gaze upon her all over again. Man, she wished he’d stop watching her.
“Thank you,” she said once she finished.
“You’re welcome,” he said, shooting up suddenly with his plate in hand.
“I’ll wash that.”
“No. That’s okay. I’ve got it. Here. Give me yours.”
She handed him the empty plate. He hurried to the sink and, sure enough, washed her dishes for her. As she sat in her chair, she stared at the weapons and wondered why she’d never been able to find a man like Chance. Just her luck he was leaving for the Middle East in a short while. And that he was her boss’s brother. And that he knew about James and so probably had a low opinion of her life choices. So if that was a spark of attraction in his eyes, she knew he’d never act on it.
“Thanks,” she said, standing.
He grabbed a rag and dried his hands, but when he met her gaze, he seemed to freeze.
“I mean it, Chance. You’ve really taken a load off my mind. I’d been thinking about getting some pepper spray. Now I don’t have to worry. And if I get in a bind, I have Ninja Kitty to poke James’s eyes out with.”
He didn’t say anything, but then seemed to nudge himself back to life, tossing the towel he held to the counter. “Protecting people is my job.”
Something about the way he said the words made her tilt her head. He seemed upset, as if he were disappointed in something...maybe her?
“I should get going,” he said, moving past her.
“Chance, wait.”
It was one of those moments when you call someone back and you don’t know why. When you know you want to say something, but you don’t know what. When words form, only to be immediately discarded. She’d already thanked him.
“I’ll ask Colt to take what I owe you out of my next paycheck.”
He nodded. “Whatever.” He slipped out the door.
What had she done? Something had definitely soured his mood. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Only after he left did she realize he’d left all his weapons behind.
Three days later she was no closer to solving the riddle of Chance. They were slated to work together, and she was a little nervous. She watched him from a distance as he and Colt gave direction from the side of his trailer, which was parked in the middle of the arena. Colt had just taught Chance the part of the skit where Teddy stole the handkerchief out of Chance’s back pocket. Usually, the next part of the act was Teddy jumping in the trailer by himself. Only the horse had refused to load.
“I swear he’s like a petulant kid,” she heard Colt say as he gave the signal for Teddy to load up for the fourth time. A signal that was ignored. Teddy stood, handkerchief in his mouth, and any time one of the men approached him, he ran away. This, too, was part of the act, and when Colt told the horse to stop and to come to him—the last part of their act together—Teddy usually obeyed. Not today.
“He gets in these moods,” Colt said. “But he always performs when it’s for real. I’ve never had him duck out on me or nothin’. I swear he likes the applause.”
They were out of doors on a day so calm and clear it looked like a masterfully painted backdrop of a movie set: bright blue sky, puffy clouds that dotted the ground with their shadows, mountains in the distance. Carolina had once visited her friend Sam on location. They’d been filming a scene with her husband against a fake background so similar it felt eerie. The only difference today was they were surrounded by a carpet of green, not asphalt, and the emerald-colored grass was thanks to the irrigation system that was the envy of their neighbors—and made the ranch worth a small fortune. Colt had been offered a sweet deal to sell the place but had flatly refused. It was a family homestead, and he planned to keep it that way, or so she’d been told by Sam.
“He’s a character, all right,” Chance said.
“Teddy, knock it off.”
Carolina could hear the exasperation in Colt’s voice. Apparently, Teddy could, too, because he dropped the handkerchief and trotted over to Colt as if that had been his plan all along. “You nut,” Colt said, but he patted the horse’s neck and smiled.
Chance crossed his arms. “Okay, so normally the act ends with Teddy jumping in the trailer while the Galloping Girlz enter the arena, but you want to change all that, so what does it matter if he loads up or not?”
Colt nodded. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter. I’m looking forward to jazzing up the routine. People have seen the old act a million times.”
Chance tipped his cowboy hat back, hands on his hips. It didn’t seem fair that a man who’d been off the ranch for almost a decade could look so good in a cowboy hat and jeans. But Chance did. Carolina wondered if the boots he wore had been his before he’d joined the army.
“You’ll get the hang of it. And Teddy will behave when you’re out on the road.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Colt waved for Carolina to come closer. “You ready to learn the new part?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said because she really didn’t want to work with Chance. After their breakfast together, things had changed. Sure, it was one-sided. She doubted he felt anything other than mild annoyance that he had to babysit her. But she had developed a full-blown crush. And they’d be working side by side—for hours.
Carolina slipped between the rails of the wooden fence, glancing at the covered arena on the other side of the barn. Lessons were in full swing. Carolina heard Natalie calling to one of her clients as she schooled her horse over a jump. Something about weight in the heels and keeping her hips open—whatever that meant. The smell of dust and a water-soaked pasture filled the air.
“All right,” Colt said. “Chance, you’re up first. I need you to try and swing up on old Teddy here without a saddle.”
Chance eyed the animal skeptically. “He doesn’t have a bridle on.”
“I’m aware of that, Chance,” Colt said, deadpan. “Perhaps that’s why I want you to climb aboard, so you can practice riding him without a bridle.”
The skin between his brows wrinkled. “Won’t he run off?”
“Just do as I ask, please.”
Chance studied the horse as if contemplating the odds of his brother’s request being a prank. Satisfied with what he saw, he moved forward. “You know, the last time you told me to do as you asked, you blew the toilet seat off with me on it.”
Colt chuckled. “This is different.”
Chance grabbed a hank of mane. He shifted around a bit, as if trying to recall the position he needed to be in to complete his task. With a deep breath and a giant heave, he threw his leg over the horse, slipped, and almost fell to his knees.