His Kind Of Cowgirl. Karen Rock
expect you still felt that strongly.”
“I don’t.” The rise in her voice made her pause and swallow her agitation. She wouldn’t give Tanner the wrong impression...let him think he still affected her.
“We just don’t need your kind of help.” Don’t need you, she added silently. Her increasingly withdrawn son could use a father figure, but not someone like Tanner. Never him.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “And what kind of help is that?”
“The type that ends with people in hospitals,” she snapped, her control breaking. Lightning forked down the road. An exclamation point on her mood.
He blew out a long breath then said, “You know I wouldn’t have dared you to try out that new barrel horse if I’d known her history.”
Claire’s head throbbed harder as she recalled the weeks she’d spent in the hospital and then at home with a shattered pelvis, fractured skull and broken ribs after a competition practice gone bad more than a decade ago. “That’s the thing. You rush into everything. Don’t consider safety. Worse, you push others, too. It’s all about the thrill.”
“Better than the way you’ve been hiding ever since the accident.”
His words echoed in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth opened and closed. After her accident, quickly followed by her mother’s death, Claire’s world had spun out of control, her emotions as bruised as her body. Her priorities shifted, transforming her from a young woman who never considered safety to one who understood human frailty and the importance of family.
Dani’s dude ranch only allowed her a couple of weeks off, and Claire hadn’t wanted to leave her grieving father alone to follow Tanner. And even if she had, how would she have coped watching the man she’d loved risk his life every day? Impossible. No. She’d made the right choice in giving him that ultimatum, as painful as his answer to it had been.
At last, she whispered, “These have been the happiest years of my life.”
He ran a hand through the flattened hair at his crown. “We’re almost there.”
He flicked the blinker and turned onto a road only a mile from her drive. The truck’s leathery scent grew strong as rain drummed around them, closing them in when all she wanted was to escape.
“You’re not staying here.” The words came out of her mouth strangely, making a flat splat like the water against her window.
The truck signaled then turned again before Tanner answered her.
“Let’s hear your father out.”
Another turn had them swinging, at last, onto Denton Creek Ranch’s long drive. When they stopped, his warm hand fell on her arm before she could bolt.
“I’m not playing some game, Tanner,” she exclaimed, “This is my life. Not a competition.”
His eyes tightened in the corners, small flares appearing. “You used to like competing.”
She thought back to her old rodeo dreams, how she’d once imagined crowds cheering her name.
“That girl’s gone. Some things matter more than winning. I wish you’d learned that lesson.”
“Maybe I should have,” he said beneath his breath, his voice so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.
He settled his hat on his head and ducked out of the truck, leaving her to stare after him.
Whatever his plans, she’d stop them. It’d taken a good man’s love to reassemble her broken world. She wouldn’t let Tanner Hayes smash through it again.
* * *
TANNER REMOVED HIS hat and thrust open the porch’s screen door for Claire. He studied her, drawn, as he’d always been, by some intangible quality. Something in the way she moved, in the straight back and the swing of her shoulders, her quick-fire expressions.
“Dad!” she called. A small terrier charged them and sprang as high as Tanner’s belt buckle, barking.
“Settle down, Roxy.” Claire scooped up the yapping dog and kissed it on the nose.
He followed her into a large, adobe-style kitchen and spotted her father and a young boy seated at a long oak table, hunched over chocolate cake.
“Hello, Martin.”
The man looked up, surprised, before one side of his mouth twisted in a smile, the other frozen in place. Dismay filled Tanner to see his old hero brought low, followed by a fierce conviction to restore him and his ranch to their former glory.
“Hey, Tanner. Glad you made it, but...” The furrows in the old man’s brow dug in deeper. “Didn’t expect you for another week or so.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Claire’s sundress dripped as she crossed the room and placed her hands on her father’s rising shoulders. She’d always been a loving daughter. Had been devoted to Tanner that way once. What if they’d never split? Would she be caring for him now, too? Helping him figure out his bleak future?
Martin peered up at her. “Thought I had more time.” His deep-set green eyes narrowed, disappearing inside heavy lids. Under the harsh light, the extent of Claire’s scrapes made Tanner suck in a fast breath. It unsettled him. Seeing her hurt. Knowing he’d caused it. Again. A reminder that he was no good for her.
“And why are you banged up? Are you hurt?”
The freckled young boy watched Claire under pulled-down eyebrows, rabbit-gnawing absently on his cake. Tangible proof that Claire hadn’t really loved Tanner. She had a child whose age meant Claire had moved on to another man fast. Had found love, marriage and a family—everything she’d wanted that Tanner couldn’t give. But what if he had...he wondered, eyeing the youth. If he’d chosen Claire over rodeo, this could be his son.
“Are you okay, Mom?”
Claire scooted around the table to kiss his cheek, their sunset-colored hair mingling. “I’m just fine, honey. I had a little accident and Mr. Hayes drove me home. Why don’t you and Roxy go upstairs? I’ll be up in a bit for a story. Guff and Lottie.”
“Can I take my cake?”
His shoulders drooped when Claire shook her head. “You know the rules. Take a last bite and scoot.”
The child shoved a fourth of the slice into his mouth and bolted from the chair, cheeks bulging as he chewed. When he neared Tanner, he skidded to a halt. “Cool belt buckle.”
“Upstairs, please.” Claire pointed. “I’ll sing you a song, too.”
The jittering boy froze, his eyes widening. “Do you have to?”
Claire’s dimples appeared, deep parentheses around her lovely mouth. Tanner forced his eyes away. Shoved back the memories of kissing her tenderly, passionately... He hadn’t come here to rekindle an old flame.
“Only if you don’t hustle. I’ve been dying to sing more lullabies.”
The boy made a gagging sound and clutched his stomach. “I’m going!”
She gathered him close and squeezed. “I’ll be up soon, buster.” The motherly gesture did something funny to Tanner’s gut. Made him regret something he couldn’t name.
Released, Jonathan returned Tanner’s smile. Roxy barked madly as they dashed up the stairs.
“’Night.” Tanner grinned after the kid. When he glanced at Claire, her features looked pinched, her eyes pained.
Martin cleared his throat. “I want to hear more about this accident.”
Claire dropped to a seat and propped her elbows on the table. “I’ll fill you in later, okay? First, Tanner can’t stay. He’s reconsidered.”
Her father pinned Tanner with