Rodeo Sweetheart (9 page)

T
he lights and music of the fairgrounds seemed to lose their magic as Ethan and Sam joined Kate and Daniel at the corn dog stand. Earlier Ethan had been contemplating buying a dog, but now his stomach twisted into knots and made food undesirable.

He’d almost kissed Sam. What kind of idiot was he? If he wasn’t careful, he’d easily cross the professional line with Sam that he’d been so concerned about Daniel crossing, and then Ethan wouldn’t be any better than his womanizing cousin.

Sam joined Kate in line ahead of Ethan, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears as she peered up at the neon menu. Was she really hungry, or was it all an act? Maybe she hadn’t been affected by the near kiss after all. Maybe she hadn’t even realized his intentions and Ethan was worrying for nothing.

And maybe all of this country air was getting to him. Ethan groaned. He was losing his mind to a cowgirl with wildflower blue eyes and a quick wit he had yet to find in the usual New York crowd—and rapidly losing his heart to a woman who’d
never look twice at him. For once, his money and status wasn’t enough, which just made him respect Sam even more. She looked deeper than his wallet, and it figured the one woman who had the maturity and grace to do so was the same one who needed a
real
man in her life—a cattle driver, not a paper pusher. He massaged his temples with his fingers.

“What’s wrong? If you don’t want a corn dog, we can grab a meat pie instead.” Daniel gestured over his shoulder to the row of food booths lining the road.

“It’s not the food.”

“Ah.” A knowing spark lit Daniel’s eyes. “I didn’t interrupt anything on the Ferris wheel, did I?” He nudged Ethan in the ribs.

“No! I mean, not really. Lower your voice.” Ethan whispered, hoping Daniel would follow his cue. “This whole situation is getting sticky, that’s all.”

“What’s sticky?” Kate’s red head popped up from giving her order at the window and she stepped out of line with her change.

Ethan swallowed. “Um, the cotton candy.”

Kate grinned and pocketed her change as Sam moved to join them, holding a large cup of lemonade.

“How was the roller coaster?” Sam took a sip from the straw.

Ethan frowned. Was she avoiding his eyes? Or was he being paranoid? They really should talk soon, or else working together the rest of his stay at the ranch was going to be more than a little awkward.

He was leaving in two weeks, maybe sooner if his father had his way. His family would eventually get what they needed and go back to New York, slimy contract in hand. To Sam, Ethan would be nothing more than a harsh memory—the man who stole the family farm out from under her and turned a pile of precious earth and memories into concrete and
clearance racks. His stomach churned again. Definitely no room for a corn dog with this much guilt taking up space.

“The roller coaster was fun.” Kate grinned around her mustard-covered corn dog at Ethan. “Even if your cousin did scream like a girl.”

“I did not.” Daniel lifted his chin and brushed at the shoulder of his shirt with a fake air of dignity. “I just yelled. Loudly and repeatedly.”

“We told you it was fast.” Sam laughed.

“How was the Ferris wheel?” Daniel’s teasing gaze pierced Ethan until the spark left and all that remained in Daniel’s eyes was pointed animosity.

“Great, like I said earlier.” Ethan stared back just as intensely, hoping Daniel would detour from the verbal path he was taking. That conversation would lead nowhere productive, and could only further drive a wedge between Ethan and Sam. Or is that what Daniel wanted?

They locked gazes for several moments until Daniel finally blinked, looked away and grinned down at Sam. “Next time you should ride with me.” He met Ethan’s eyes again in a brief challenge.

Ethan glimpsed Kate’s frown. He drew a deep breath. Great. He’d somehow offended Daniel with his back-off vibe regarding Sam, and now his cousin was in it for keeps. Ethan could only hope Sam wouldn’t fall for such a tacky, obvious play.

But she seemed oblivious to the tension—and to the fact that Kate’s eyes were narrowing to tiny slits. Jealousy? Ethan wished he could bang his head against the giant sign shaped like a corn dog. The children’s game
Which of these does not belong?
popped into his mind, and Ethan grimaced. The answer was depressingly easy—none of them. He didn’t belong with Sam, Kate didn’t belong with Daniel, Sam didn’t belong
with Daniel or vice versa…Ethan’s headache roared and he shut his eyes against the throbbing. So much for a fun night on the town. He’d rather be scooping manure.

“Hey, look, Sam.” Kate pointed across the grounds to a tent set up by the ice cream stand. “A mechanical bull. That’d be extra practice for you.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. Daniel didn’t know about Sam’s plan to bull-ride. How could Kate have slipped up like that with her best friend’s secret? He glanced at Sam. Panic shadowed her expression.

Kate glanced between Sam and Ethan. “What? I told Daniel about Sam’s plans when we were in line for the roller coaster. He thought it was great. Really bold.”

Sam’s face paled. Ethan bit down on his lower lip.
Not good, not good…

“Hey, it’s cool with me.” Daniel shrugged, but his gaze held an ulterior motive. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Kate’s brow furrowed in concern. “I figured if Ethan knew, there was no reason for his cousin not to. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam drew a deep breath and the paper cup in her hand wobbled slightly. “It’s okay. No big deal.”

But Ethan could tell it wasn’t okay. Apparently Sam could see for herself that telling Ethan a secret and confiding the same to Daniel was the difference between trusting a sheep and a wolf. If Daniel passed the info to Jeffrey, he would have not only one-upped Ethan again, he would sabotage the ranch even further—exactly as Jeffrey hoped.

Ethan felt Sam’s gaze on him and offered her a smile he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. “How about that ride, cowgirl?”

“On a mechanical bull?” Sam laughed, but the worry in her eyes hadn’t completely faded. “No, thanks. Lucy could take on that piece of metal in a heartbeat. What’s the point?”

“You think riding Lucy is harder than staying on that thing?” Kate pointed to the machine, which whirled in a sharp, tight circle before dumping a thin cowboy on the padded mats below. He stood up and slapped his hat against his leg in disgust before ambling out the open-sided tent.

Sam’s lips twisted. “Maybe not.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared.” Daniel’s arm landed around Sam’s shoulders and she stiffened almost as fast as Ethan did. He fought the impulse to rake his cousin’s arm away. Starting a fight would only lead to disaster, and Ethan could only guess whose side his father would take once he heard.

Sam eased away from Daniel’s casual touch without prompting and Ethan let out his breath in relief. “You should go for it, Sam. In fact, I’ll do it, too.”

Daniel’s brow rose and he lowered his rejected arm to his side. “In that case, count me in.”

“You? On a bull?” Ethan snorted.

Daniel glared. “It’s not like it’s real. Besides, if you can do it, I can do it.”

They squared off and Ethan worked to control the harsh words threatening to fly from his lips. What was Daniel’s problem? Why had he suddenly decided to go after Sam? And why bother flirting with Kate if Sam was his goal all along? His cousin had just said at the lodge that he would back off for Ethan’s sake. Had Jeffrey anted up the pressure since then?

“You’re all crazy. I’ll be just fine watching from the sidelines.” Kate smirked. “Besides, Sam will beat you both.”

“We’ll see about that.” Daniel winked at Sam again and she quickly looked the other way.

“After you.” Ethan gestured for Sam to go ahead of him,
then purposefully shouldered past Daniel to fall into step behind her. He might be about to take on his first bull, but he had a feeling the battle with Daniel was just beginning.

Back on a bull again. This time, it was a mixture of faux hair and steel instead of hide and sweat. Still, the nerves in her stomach reminded Sam of what was at stake—not only her dignity, but her ranch. If she couldn’t stay on a fake bull, how could she manage a real one in two weeks? No bull, no cash, no stallion, no breeding farm. The equation was painfully simple.

Although according to Daniel and Ethan and the way they kept acting like Neanderthals, one would think the only issue currently at stake was Sam’s heart. Any minute now she half expected one of them to grab her ponytail and drag her away as a prize. What was with their sudden testosterone battle? Daniel had ridden the mechanical bull first and fallen after a measly three seconds. One good twist of the machine and he’d slipped onto the mats with a scowl. Ethan had gone next and done better by maybe a full second, but from the look in his eyes, any time longer than Daniel’s was enough.

Sam had to ride well—not just for the sake of proving to herself she could actually have a shot at that rodeo prize money, but for the sake of holding her own against two pompous city slickers.

Even if one of them did smell like spicy cologne and had eyes that made Sam’s stomach flip like a flapjack on a griddle.

“You ready, little lady?” The older man in jean overalls and a T-shirt working the switchboard control shifted in his metal folding chair, which squeaked in protest under his weight. Sam grasped the padded handle on the bull, took a deep breath and nodded.

With a squeaky groan, the machine sprung to life and whipped Sam to the left. Then to the right. She hung on and fought the urge to grab the horn with her free hand. At least this way if she fell, it’d be on foam and not hard-packed dirt.

But this bull was much feistier than Lucy. Sam’s head jerked to the side and she struggled to maintain her balance. The slick rubber wasn’t as easy for her legs to grip as they did on the real steer. She wobbled dangerously to one side.
Hang on, hang on.
She couldn’t let Ethan or Daniel win.

She glimpsed the figures of her friends—did she consider Ethan and Daniel friends now?—standing to one side of the tent, clapping and yelling. Kate’s unmistakable two-fingered whistle split the air and Sam gripped harder with her thighs. “Seven seconds,” Kate screamed in encouragement.

The world flew by in a blur of red tent stripes and blue gym mats. Her fingers suddenly slipped and Sam sprawled on the ground in a heap.

“You did it!” Ethan rushed Sam before she could stand and hauled her to her feet. “Nine seconds!” His arms wrapped around her in a tight hug and Sam inhaled his masculine scent. Her arms automatically curled around his neck. Over his shoulder, Kate’s eyes widened and her lips parted in shock.

Sam backed slowly away from Ethan’s embrace, heat flushing her face. She couldn’t believe she’d thrown herself into his arms like that. She really couldn’t believe the envy that sprang onto Daniel’s face as if he’d suddenly chomped into a lemon.

But most of all, she couldn’t believe the impulse to kiss Ethan was back, even stronger than it had been on the Ferris wheel.

T
he next morning, Sam practically tip-toed into the barn. Maybe Ethan wasn’t up yet. Maybe he’d overslept and wouldn’t be helping with the morning chores today.

Maybe he’d forgotten about the way she’d thrown herself into his embrace and hugged him after staying on the bull for the required eight seconds.

Sam’s cheeks heated. What a ridiculous victory in the first place. It wasn’t like she’d ridden a real bull or accomplished anything other than proving she could linger on a piece of moving steel longer than two greenhorn men. What was worth celebrating about that? It didn’t change her circumstances, didn’t change the fact that her family’s farm was still broke and in danger of moving further into the red every day. No, it didn’t change anything—even if Ethan’s hug had felt like a tiny piece of home.

Still, the question remained—why was Ethan so excited for her about the riding success when just two days ago he’d been trying to talk Sam out of entering the rodeo? Something was up with Ethan, something strange about his family—and
it had nothing to do with Vickie’s fashion choices, Jeffrey’s absence from activities, or Daniel’s flirtation attempts. Maybe Sam was just imagining things because she wanted them to leave so badly.

She drew a tight breath. Was that a past tense “wanted,” or present tense? Ethan
had
been a big help to her with the morning chores, leaving Cole available to handle bigger tasks he’d never had the time for. Not to mention having someone to talk to other than the horses made the menial duties more enjoyable. Somehow, Ethan’s being at the ranch was becoming less of a hassle and more of a…blessing?

The morning was turning into a brain teaser.

Sam reached for the pitchfork in the barn’s supply closet. The wooden stick felt heavy in her hands, and soreness radiated from her shoulder. All those late nights of practicing on Lucy were starting to show, not to mention the core-strengthening exercises Cole was making her do, and her muscles were suffering from it. Would it even matter? Would it be enough?

She shut the door and headed to the first stall. She hated these moments of self-doubt, hated bearing the burden of such pressure. Other women her age at the church were married, some even had kids or were thinking about children. The few single ones left in her class—the last time Sam went, anyway—were satisfied in their careers or pursuing graduate degrees.

Would Sam ever feel free to live her own life?

A figure, shadowed against the morning light streaming into the barn, appeared in the doorway of the stables and Sam hesitated before walking into Wildfire’s stall. Ethan. She lifted her hand in a quick wave and slipped under Wildfire’s neck to secure his halter. Her fingers fumbled with the familiar buckles and her heart raced.
Calm down. It’s just Ethan—the
same guy who got on your last nerve just a few days ago.
Technically, nothing had changed. But try telling that to her shaky hands.

Sam jumped as Ethan popped his head over the half stall door. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’.” She avoided his eyes, hoping the blush had faded from her cheeks by now. She let her hair block his view of her face as she finally managed to buckle the halter on Wildfire.

“Did you practice with Lucy last night? I crashed after we got home from the fair.” Ethan’s voice, rich and invigorating like morning coffee, warmed Sam’s insides.

“No, I took the night off.” She spoke into her curtain of brown hair as she clipped the lead rope onto the halter. “One crazy ride was enough for the evening.”

“I bet so. Daniel’s still asleep. He said he was sore from his ride.” Ethan snorted. “Attempted ride, anyway.” He opened the stall door for Sam to lead Wildfire out, without her having to ask.

Sam guided the horse into the aisle, unable to resist taking a poke at Ethan’s bubble of pride. “You didn’t stay on much longer than your cousin.”

Ethan shrugged. “Hey, a second longer is a second longer.” He grinned.

Sam quickly looked away before her empty stomach could start fluttering again. “Would you mind cleaning Wildfire’s stall? I’m going to put him in the pasture and then come back for Piper.”

“Sure.” Ethan grabbed the pitchfork without complaint and disappeared inside the pen.

Sam slowly led Wildfire toward the stable doors. Maybe Ethan hadn’t noticed how his presence affected her, made her voice falter and heated her stomach like the dead of summer. If she was lucky, she could keep up the indifferent act until
these feelings of attraction went away. At best, she and Ethan could be friends until his vacation ended. Anything more was asking for trouble. They were from completely different worlds, and Ethan was leaving hers in two weeks.

The only thing harder than trying to save her family farm would be trying to save it with a broken heart.

Ethan dumped the last wheelbarrow load of manure into the compost pile and headed back into the barn. The last stall was done. Sam had been absent for a good thirty minutes now, but he didn’t mind doing the hard work alone. At least that way he didn’t have to think about kissing her—or worse, not kissing her—again.

Ethan steered the wheelbarrow into the supply closet. He wasn’t sure what brought on that spontaneous hug last night after her ride. Maybe he’d just gotten caught up in the competition and excitement of seeing Sam succeed, watching her achieve a goal he knew was so important to her. The question was, when had Sam’s personal goals become so important to
him?

He shook his head as he shut the closet door. Regardless, she’d felt really good in his arms—like she belonged. That was a dangerous fact to analyze, but right or wrong, it was there, unwilling to be ignored.

He looked up as Sam trudged toward him from the opposite end of the aisle, her expression pinched.

“Would you mind going with me into town? I need to pick up the feed order, and Cole’s stuck giving private riding lessons to a guest.” Sam stopped several feet away and shoved her fingertips in her jeans pockets. “I might need help loading the bags into the back of the truck. Sometimes if the store is too busy, the workers don’t have time.”

“No problem. I just finished mucking out the stalls.” Ethan gestured toward the rows of pens.

“All of them?” Sam’s brows shot upward. “In half an hour? I’m impressed.”

Finally.
Ethan smiled, hoping his relief didn’t show on his face. Who knew hauling manure would be the way into a girl’s heart?

Sam’s expression softened and she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “I’m ready if you are.” Ethan followed Sam out of the stable and to the parking lot by the main house.
Ready or not.

Miles of interstate uncurled before them through the front window of the truck like a winding yellow ribbon. Sam kept her booted foot steady on the gas pedal. The trip into town seemed much longer than it had last night heading to the fair, the cab now filled with silence and the heady aroma of Ethan’s freshly applied cologne instead of Kate and Daniel’s jokes and laughter. Sam preferred the quietness, though awkward at times, to the constant noise and teasing of the evening before. From the contented expression Ethan wore as he gazed out the window, it appeared he felt the same.

Maybe they weren’t so entirely different after all.

Sam clicked on her blinker as she eased around a slow-moving sedan in the fast lane. “You’d think they’d stick to the right lane if they insist on going ten under the speed limit.”

Ethan laughed. “I’m usually the one going at least ten over.”

Sam sent him a sidelong glance.

“Okay, okay, more like fifteen or twenty.”

“I thought so, after you way you peeled into the parking
lot of the ranch your first day here like you were gearing up for the Indy.”

Ethan grinned. “So you were watching me?”

Sam swallowed hard. Busted. She stared at the road, racking her brain for a way to retract the blunder without lying. “How could I not after that dramatic arrival?”

“Now you sound like my dad.” The teasing light faded from Ethan’s expression.

Sam glanced at the road, then back at Ethan’s slight frown. “What do you mean?”

“He thinks all I’m good for is sports cars. Just because they’re interesting to me doesn’t mean it’s all I can do.”

An oppressing silence filled the cab, broken only by the loud gush of the air conditioner. Sam reached over and clicked the knob to a lower setting. The whooshing immediately quieted. “I’m sure your dad doesn’t actually think that.”

“Trust me, he does.” Ethan rubbed his hand over his forehead. “But let’s not ruin a nice afternoon by talking about my father, okay?”

Sam’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “At least you have a father to argue with.”

Ethan’s expression contorted and he touched Sam’s shoulder. The contact sparked up her arm and her hands shook on the wheel, for a variety of reasons she refused to acknowledge. “I’m sorry.” His voice, void of the bitterness it held moments before, lowered with regret. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Sam inhaled, shrugging her shoulders up so Ethan’s hand fell back to his side. “Don’t worry about it. But next time you feel like complaining about your father, remember not everyone has that luxury.” She exited the highway and turned left toward the feed store.

“Point taken.” Ethan ran his hand over his hair, then stared
forward, his profile a tight, indiscernible mask. “But you need to remember not everyone’s family life is as happy as yours apparently used to be.”

Ethan wasn’t used to being spoken to so bluntly by a woman—and judging by the shocked expression on Sam’s face, she wasn’t used to hearing an equal retort, either. But she’d handled it well, pressing her lips together into a tight line as she jammed the truck into Park in front of an aluminum-sided building. Multiple trucks and trailers crowded the small dirt lot, and several people in cowboy hats milled around the front porch.

“They look busy, so I guess you’ll have to help me load after all. Ready to work?” Sam’s smile, forcibly bright, looked pasted on her face. He had offended her, but she wasn’t about to admit it.

Letting her off the hook, Ethan nodded. “Always.” He slid out of the cab, ignoring her snort of derision. Sam slammed the door on her side and marched toward the building. Ethan followed her up the rickety front steps, his head barely clearing a crooked, low-hanging sign marked Smithson’s Co-Op. A cowboy standing to one side of the porch nodded once as they passed, then spit tobacco into a plastic cup. Ethan inched closer behind Sam to shield her from the cowboy’s appreciative backward glance.

Oblivious to her charm, Sam entered the fluorescence-lit shop with a wave to the denim-clad man behind the counter. “Mornin’, Harry. I need the usual.”

“Howdy there, Sam.” Harry’s voice boomed across the store as he tossed a pen on the mass of papers covering the counter. He shuffled his bulk to the ancient cash register, which, upon closer inspection, Ethan decided could have
easily been the very first register ever made. How did that thing even work? Harry punched in some keys and Sam handed over her company credit card.

“Who’s your friend there?” Harry peered at Ethan from beneath bushy eyebrows. Ethan bristled under the inspection. At least he was wearing his tennis shoes today and not loafers—though he had the instinctive feeling Harry could probably spot a city slicker a mile away. Why he felt the need to measure up to this man, Ethan had no idea, but he straightened his shoulders and gave his best smile.

“This is Ethan. His family is visiting our ranch and he offered to give me a hand loading the feed.”

“Mighty nice of him.” Harry looked suspiciously at Ethan as he zipped the credit card through a separate black machine.

Ethan pretended to study the gum selection at the counter. Was one expected to respond to an indirect, third-person reference? Sam was watching him, so he supposed so. He uttered a quick, “Thanks.”

“Good thing, Billy out there is filling a big order for another ranch, and Tom called in sick today.” Harry swiped the card a second time with a little frown. “I’m shorthanded as usual.”

“No problem, Ethan and I can handle it.” Sam smiled, but it faded as Harry zipped the card a third time. “Is there a problem?”

Harry leaned over the counter, his gravelly voice lowering to a whisper that could still be heard across the store. “Your card’s been declined.”

“What? I just paid—Oh, wait.” Sam pulled in her lips and briefly closed her eyes. “Okay. That’s fine. Can you bill us instead?”

Harry hesitated, and Sam’s gaze turned pleading. “I’d like to, Sam, really I would, but your mother was late on her last bill and I can’t afford—”

“Here, borrow mine.” Ethan slipped a Visa card from his wallet and slid it to Harry. He elbowed Sam, trying to lighten the mood. “I know you’re good for it.”

Sam’s face flushed scarlet but she didn’t object, which spoke pretty highly of her desperation to get the horse feed. She shifted awkwardly beside him as Harry ran the card and handed the paper slip to Ethan to sign. He jotted his signature, glad he’d had the frame of mind to use his personal card instead of the company one, so at least his father wouldn’t find out about the impromptu purchase. Jeffrey might be able to eventually understand how Ethan refused to sabotage the ranch, but he’d never understand him helping Sam financially. Ethan refused to let the horses go hungry at the cost of his company’s gain.

The amount on the slip jumped out at Ethan as he handed Harry the signed copy. The horse feed wasn’t that expensive. How bad off were the Jensons really? He tucked his copy in his jeans pocket before Sam could catch the surprised look on his face.

“You know where it all is, Sam. Help yourself.” Harry gestured to the side door where Ethan could glimpse a loading platform and wheeled carts.

She smiled the same forced grin from before at Harry, lifted her hand in a slight wave and led Ethan to the loading dock.

Outside, Ethan gently caught her arm, turning her around. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She averted her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”