Runaway Cowboy (2 page)

Scott shrugged a shoulder and hopped back into the saddle. “I would if I were you. Unless you're planning on explaining why you disappeared.” He shook his head as his horse pranced in place. “Then again, you weren't always the brightest cowboy on the ranch. Listen, I've got to run, but hang around after. We'll catch up.”

Scott was gone before Clay could tell him he'd rather get this ride over and get out before Jen found out he was even there.

What he needed to do was find out where Dustin, Cody, and Chase—the friends he was hazing for—were. He'd taken time off and dragged his butt and his horses down here for them, so the least they could do was show up on time. He pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and punched in Cody's number, growing more irate with each ring. When Cody's voice mail picked up, Clay sighed into the phone and didn't bother leaving a message. Chances were that all three of them were either hungover or with some groupies they met at a truck stop along the way. Leave it to those three to find a way to make a two-hour road trip into a weekend bender. He never should have taken the chance on driving down here and coming face to face with the one woman he'd never forgotten. He knew better than anyone that running was the only way to stay one step ahead of the trouble that seemed to follow his family.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and adjusted his hat, looking around at the sea of horse trailers. He might as well get the horses saddled, since it looked like those three would be dragging their asses in right before the bulldogging event. He turned back toward his trailer but stopped short when he saw her. She was riding her red roan, Jiggy, the one he had helped her break and train. Her light brown hair hung in long waves down her back, kissed by the sunlight, and glistening like burnished gold beneath her black cowboy hat. She was lining up sponsor flags at the back gate of the arena, getting ready for the opening ceremonies, and he couldn't help but think about how many hours they'd spent together doing the exact same thing.

The ink on his college degree wasn't even dry when he had begged Mike for a chance to work with him. The business degree was fine, but he wasn't made for an office job. So he'd started as part of the behind-the-scenes chute crew with Findley Brothers, helping with horn wraps, hauling the gates open and closed, and loading the animals. But none of it stopped him from watching Jen's every move. She was beautiful, even with her hair wound in a long braid down her back, dirt smudging her cheeks, and a large bruise on her forehead from working with a colt who threw her. Her deep chocolate eyes were gentle, and he got lost in them the first time he saw her. The first time he kissed her, he thought he'd found heaven. Then he went and threw it all away.

Clay's eyes traveled the length of her. She'd filled out, developed a woman's curves, and they suited her. As his gaze lit on her face, their eyes met through the throng of cowboys and horses, and he knew she recognized him. Those gentle eyes turned as hard as stone.

No way was she going to be as gracious as Scott had been. She was pissed. This was one cowgirl he was going to have to go out of his way to avoid, because he had a feeling she might be looking for him when his event was over. And it wasn't to rekindle the romance that burned too brightly the first time. She had murder on her mind.

A
FTER ALL THESE
years, what would possess Clay Graham to show up at one of their rodeos? It had been nearly five years since she saw him last, right after he asked her to marry him. Only a few hours later, he'd turned tail and run, leaving her with a diamond engagement ring and a shattered heart full of memories. No note, no explanation, no returned phone calls. Vanished like this morning's fog in the heat. Oh, he called Mike and Scott to apologize to them. Apparently, both of them meant more to him than she did because she'd never heard from him again.

Her eyes bore into him, wishing looks really could kill. Derek bumped her leg with another sponsor flag from the trailer.

“Um, hello, Jen? You planning on taking this or do I need to walk it over myself?”

“Clay's here.”

“Your Clay? Where? I haven't seen him in forever.” He sounded excited instead of enraged. Was a little loyalty from her brothers too much to expect?

“Wow, Derek, thanks for the support. That ass abandoned me—all of us—in the middle of the night.” She jerked the flag from her brother's hands. “By all means, go see him, have fun. Maybe the two of you can swap rodeo stories, hang out, talk about old times.”

Derek shoved his hands into his pockets, looking contrite. “Aw, come on, Jen. Don't be mad at me.” He looked up at her, pouting slightly. “I didn't mean it that way. I'd barely started learning to drive when he left. I was just a kid. Want me to go kick his ass?” he offered, grinning.

She could never stay mad at Derek, especially when he teased her. He might not pull his weight around the rodeos, or at the ranch for that matter, but he was charming, and he knew exactly how to worm his way into her good graces. “No. I think I can manage to ignore him.” She glanced back to where her ex stood, watching her. “Besides, if anyone gets to kick his sorry ass, it's
me.
”

“Well, just let me know if you need backup.” He winked at his sister. “But, right now, you'd better hurry up and get these flags where they belong, or Scott will have both our heads. I'm already in enough trouble with him.”

She cocked her head and looked down at him from atop the horse, sighing. “What now? I'm getting tired of playing referee between you two.”

“I told him I want to change majors.”

“Again? Derek, you've got to stick with something and see it all the way through,” she scolded. “You're almost finished now. Why would you want to start over?”

“Because I don't know what I want to do. But I do know what I don't want.” He looked around at the bustle of cowboys heading up the stairs toward the chutes, preparing for the first bronc riding event. “This isn't the life I want. The ranch, sure, but I'm tired of trying to live up to Scott's expectations, being the guy everyone wants to take the reins. Running the business has never been my thing. I'm thinking about architecture.”

Jennifer sighed again, feeling like she was constantly nagging at him. But Derek had a tendency to look for the easiest path and ignore the fact that anything worthwhile took hard work, dedication, and a little sacrifice.

“This isn't exactly the way I pictured life turning out either. But, sometimes, we have to make the best of what we have.” She thought about her nightmare and how much she hated hauling the rigs from rodeo to rodeo, fearful with each turn that someone might cross over the divider and change her life again. “
Rodeo
is what we do, what Mom and Dad did and raised us to do, and Mike needs us. He was there when we needed him. If you want to study something else, go ahead, but at least get your business degree first.”

Jen nudged her horse into a jog to the arena gate, casting another glance at the man seated at the opposite end, still watching her. She felt her chest constrict in a knot. Nope, life wasn't fairy tales and happy endings. Most of the time, it was hard work and making the best of situations you'd rather avoid.

Chapter Two

T
HE SUN BEATING
down on his shoulders as he waited for his go-round wasn't nearly as hot as his temper right now. How dare those three bail on him? He'd quit riding the circuit years ago because he was tired of depending on irresponsible “friends” for his paycheck. If he wanted to rodeo, he'd go back to bulldogging and collect the entire purse for himself. Instead he was hazing, using his horses to keep steers in line for guys who didn't even bother to call and let him know they weren't coming after all. Luckily, it wasn't a completely wasted trip. A few guys who knew him begged Clay to haze for them. He patted the shoulder of his mount. Maybe he could at least earn his gas money back from his cut of their winnings.

His eyes slid to the other end of the arena where Jen sat on Scott's paint gelding, Noble, another horse he'd helped them break and train. Sunlight glinted off the golden highlights in her hair, and her profile made her look regal. She lifted her chin up as the announcer called out the rodeo sponsor, and she loped Noble around the arena, the flag snapping in the wind that the animal's speed created. Watching her move with the horse, her hips rocking in time with his gallop, made him think about the last time those thighs were wrapped around him. He felt his irritation cool as his desire heated.

He couldn't help but grin as she rounded the curve of the arena where he waited at the gate. He wondered if she realized he was there. Clay watched her spur the horse, gently asking for more speed as she rounded the turn. Dirt clods kicked up from Noble's hooves, spraying Clay with mud as he ducked his head. He looked up in time to see her glance back at him with a wide smile gracing her full lips, her eyes bright with gratification.

Yep, she noticed you here. Sucker.

Jen had never been able to hide anything, at least not from him, and now was no exception. He could easily read the satisfaction she felt at spraying him with mud, but he could also see the hurt she was trying to hide. She wore her heart in those dark eyes. Eyes so dark and fathomless, a guy could lose himself for days. Which was part of why he'd had to leave. Before he lost himself to her completely.

“Clay, you coming?” the steer wrestler asked as he went through the gate.

Clay stared at Jen, tipping two fingers against his hat, and watched the laughter die in her eyes, replaced by fury. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She wasn't as unaffected by him as she pretended to be. He tore his eyes from the gorgeous woman fuming at the other end of the arena as the cowboy manning the gate let him through.

Focusing on the steer in the chute, he backed his mare inside and eased her to the rear of the box. He could feel her muscles twitching with anticipation and felt a moment of satisfaction at the mare's abilities. She loved her job, loved the burst of speed as she kept the steer lined up and running straight, and was a natural for the sport. He looked at the cowboy in the box, waiting for his nod signaling the man at the chute to loose the steer.

Both cowboys came out of the box simultaneously, and Clay watched as his partner leaned off his horse, his hand sliding up the side of the steer's neck to curl around the right horn as his left hand pulled the other one down, turning the steer's head toward his armpit. The cowboy's horse continued forward without him as he slipped his feet from the stirrups and dug his heels into the soft dirt, wrapping his hand around the steer's muzzle and curling its head so that their momentum carried them both to the ground. Clay watched over his shoulder, slowing his mare as he retrieved his partner's gelding from where he had stopped and stood patiently waiting.

As they exited the arena, he led the steer wrestler's horse back to the arena entrance, preparing to make the run again, this time with a young, first-time bulldogger. He knew the kid wouldn't be in the money, but everyone needed to start somewhere, and he wanted to help him out.

He caught a blur of a black and white paint horse coming around from behind him, and his heart pounded painfully against his chest before kicking into high gear. When he realized it was Scott, riding his own horse again, he couldn't help but feel a flood of disappointment. Clay clenched his jaw at the reaction. He was
not
looking for Jennifer. He didn't want to talk to her or watch her ride or remember how soft her lips were against his. Coming to this rodeo had been a bad idea, he thought to himself for the hundredth time already.

“C
LAY!”
H
E TURNED
around and saw Mike riding toward him on the ugliest sorrel he'd ever seen. He remembered Digger. Every cowboy loved the gelding. He was the ugliest beast on the ranch but also the most trustworthy; the crew fought to use him for rodeos when the boss wasn't riding him. “A little bird told me you were here.”

Clay dropped his grooming supplies into the tack compartment of the trailer and shoved the saddle onto the rack. “Scott?”

“Jennifer,” Mike corrected.

Clay couldn't help arching his eyebrow, surprised that Jennifer had even acknowledged his presence, let alone mentioned his name. “I thought my ears were burning.”

“I made her put the voodoo doll away,” Mike joked. “Heading back out already?”

“Oregon's a long drive,” Clay replied.

“Don't rush off. Stay and have dinner with us.”

The old man had been like a father to Clay, which he'd always appreciated since his own father had run off when he was just a kid. It hadn't been easy growing up with few male role models, watching his mother skip from bed to bed trying to find a man to take care of her. She'd only ended up with heartbreak, too many mouths to feed, and several unhealthy addictions. Clay had been fortunate enough to earn a scholarship to a college as far away as he could get at seventeen. He had been lucky to get away and even luckier to land the job with Findley Brothers, as inexperienced as he'd been.

About as lucky as you were to have Jen fall in love with you. But you ruined that, too, you idiot.

“I don't think everyone will be as happy to see me as you are, Mike.”

The old man crossed his wrists over the saddle horn, his reins dangling in his fingers, and laughed. “Jennifer's not going to do anything. You know better than anyone, she's all bark and no bite.”

Clay glanced warily toward the Findley Brothers' trailers. Even though he hoped to catch another glimpse of her, he knew it was best to avoid her. “I don't think it's a good idea, Mike. I mean, what if—”

“I have a proposition for you, Clay,” he interrupted. “I need your help. One of my guys just had to bail, personal reasons, and I can't find someone else on this short of notice. We have a rodeo next weekend, and I really need someone with experience or we'll have to cancel.”