What a Texas Girl Dreams (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

More cowboys joined the fray, one taking point. Monica turned Jinx toward a corner where two steers rammed their heads against the fence. She turned the cattle and took a deep breath. Only a few people remained in the stands, all looking stunned. Monica took off her hat and wiped the back of her arm over her forehead.

Jinx’s ears flicked, and he tossed his head. Dread filled Monica when a loud growl sounded. She turned and saw one of the bulls, a huge, hairy thing that had to weigh over two thousand pounds, staring at her. She tried to remain still, but Jinx was antsy and moved. The brilliant lights in the arena sparkled off the rhinestones in her top. The bull lowered his head to charge and Monica slammed her heels into Jinx’s hindquarters.

Jinx lunged forward, but wasn’t quite fast enough. Monica felt the impact on her horse’s hindquarters, and then she was falling, and everything went black.

Chapter Two

Five Days Later

Trickett Samuels leaned against the rail fence separating Kathleen Witte-Jackson’s race horses from her rescues, snapped a piece of alfalfa from its stem, and put it between his teeth. In the distance, he heard cattle lowing. He hated waiting. Hated it, especially, when Monica Witte was behind the waiting.

Mat Barnes, the Double Diamond foreman, and Kathleen walked down from the barn. Kathleen had a cell phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear. Her nine-months-pregnant belly led the way. Her hair was auburn where Monica’s was dark blonde, but each sister had the same wide grin, the same green eyes. They even walked the same, something he’d never noticed until the night of the bull sale and the first kiss he shared with Monica. A smile split Kathleen’s face, and she grabbed Mat’s arm to lead him over to the fence. Seeing Trick, she pointed toward the lane.

“We’ll see you in a second, then,” she said and slipped the phone into her pocket. Trick’s body went on point before she said her next words. “That was Monica. I’m sorry we’ve held you up, Trick, but she’s moving slow because of Jinx.”

Trick shrugged as if it didn’t matter he’d been already spent more than an hour waiting. Seemed like he was always waiting for Monica. Not that her family needed to know that. Hell, they hadn’t even been on a real date. Their relationship, if anyone would call it that, was casual. Casual as in Monica casually showed up on his doorstep when she was bored with the rodeo circuit, usually with bogus paperwork from the ranch. And then they casually wound up in bed and she was gone by morning.

Trick patted the old stallion who made his way to the fence and propped his muzzle on the old rails. Yeah, he knew just how the old stud felt. Used, ignored, used again.

So why did he keep allowing it to happen? Any other woman he’d have set straight by now. At twenty-nine, Trick was done with casual sex and throw-away relationships. When Doc Vaughn retired next year, he planned to buy the vet practice. Put down real roots. It was time to get serious about his life.

“It’s a light day at the office, nothing Doc can’t handle on his own, and I’d rather be here to see just what shape Jinx is in. Hey, Mat.” He addressed his friend, who’d been wrangled by the middle Witte sister, Vanessa, just a few short months ago. They were currently living together on a property Mat had purchased on the other side of the Diamond. Trick had a feeling wedding bells weren’t far away for his friend. Just his luck. His best friend was head over heels in love with Trick’s secret-girlfriend’s sister, which meant Trick couldn’t bitch about his own woman problems. Namely that the woman was so damned hard to keep around.

This had all the makings of a really bad Junior High moment.

Damn Monica, anyway, for insisting they keep their fling a secret.

Damn himself for going along with her. He knew all about the rough upbringing the girls had faced. How, after Kathleen’s mother passed away during childbirth, their father Nathanial dove nose-deep into a bottle of whiskey. He sobered up long enough to marry two more women — Vanessa’s socialite mother and Monica’s mother, a waitress from the local bar. She never said as much, but he knew she was scared spitless of turning into her father, so he didn’t pressure her about their relationship. But the less pressure he gave the more distant Monica seemed to become. Damned if Trick knew how to fix the situation now. He was neck-deep in lust with the woman, cared more about her than anyone outside his immediate family. Somehow he had to show her she could depend on him without giving up her independence. Every time he tried, she ran scared.

The Utah rodeo was a prime example. Two weeks before the event, he mildly suggested, since she was off for a week, they take a weekend trip to the Gulf. Monica flipped a switch. Grabbed her go-bag filled with rodeo gear and jumped in her truck as if the hounds of hell were after her.

He didn’t hear from her until she called the day before, about Jinx. Telling him she wanted Dr. Vaughn to lead Jinx’s recovery.

Not a freaking chance he would let that happen. If she wanted to end their fling, so be it. But he was Jinx’s best chance to get back into the arena. Trick wouldn’t jeopardize the horse’s future because Monica was afraid of a little intimacy.

The sound of a diesel’s high-powered engine split the air. Around the corner came Monica’s white-and-silver Dodge and matching horse trailer. The Witte brand was emblazoned on the doors of the truck and Jinx’s name painted in swirls down the sides of the trailer, along with the years Monica had won the All Around Cowgirl title. A sense of pride filled him, not because he had a stitch to do with Monica’s success. That was all her. She did it alone, without the help of anyone.

She pulled up beside them and parked before getting out of the truck. Monica turned her face away from her sister, her straw cowboy hat doing a good job of hiding the bandage at her hairline and the black eye. Trick clenched his fists. Damn that bull, anyway. Her tawny hair was gathered in elastic at her neck. Her jeans were ripped at the knee, the tee shirt she wore faded to the point the green looked almost blue. If Trick hadn’t woken her up a time or three when she wore only that shirt, he might not have known. Her brown Ropers were scarred and dusty, like the rest of her.

She shouldn’t look so sexy. She should look tired, bedraggled. Not like she’d just rolled out of bed.

Kathleen rushed to her side, but Monica pushed her away. “Not a big deal,” she insisted, but Trick saw the flinch as Kathleen’s arms pulled Monica into a hug. Whether she flinched because of the hug or the unseen bruises on her body, Trick wasn’t sure.

Hell, Monica probably didn’t know herself.

He’d seen the video from the stampede. Seen the bull take a run at Jinx. Seen Monica try to get her horse out of harm’s way and then fall between the stands and Jinx. She’d been damn lucky one of the cowboys had seen the bull and distracted it before more damage was done. Trick hadn’t competed in rodeo since high school, but falls like that weren’t easy to recover from. For the rider or for the horse.

Monica limped to the back of the trailer. So her knee was messed up along with the bruising.

Trick hurried to the trailer and reached for the latch just as Monica did. A spark of heat traveled from the tips of his fingers straight to his groin. Her hand curled into a fist. So she felt it, too. Damn. He’d hoped some of the spark would have died by the time Monica arrived.

“I’ve got it,” she said between clenched teeth.

“I’m just here for the horse.” Trick said, the lie easily dropping from his mouth.

Monica looked up at him, hurt in her green eyes.
Hell.

He stepped a little closer. “I didn’t mean that, Mon.”

“You don’t say things you don’t mean.” She pulled on the lever and opened the trailer gate before stepping inside the metal box.

Jinx twisted his head around to see who had opened the gate and then pushed his muzzle back into the hay at the head of the trailer. He stood on three legs, with his back left bent at the knee. He looked exhausted, Trick thought. A thick, white wrap covered his left hindquarter from the hip through the knee.

Monica unsnapped the lead from his halter and pressed her hands against his chest, showing him it was time to get out of the trailer. Trick moved to the side of the trailer, watching how Jinx favored the injured leg as he backed out of the compartment. Mat had the paddock opened and Kathleen stood to the side as Monica led her horse inside the fence.

“I’d like to see him walk a bit, before the exam,” Trick said, and Monica started him off again. “Alone. Not being led.” She huffed out a breath, but followed his direction.

The horse took a few steps and then dropped his head to the grass for a snack. Monica whistled at him, a sign for him to go farther, but Jinx ignored her.

“Monica.” Her name was a warning, but she ignored him.

“He’s just tired. Jinxie,” she called to him and the horse flicked his ears in her direction, but didn’t budge. Too tired or too sore to worry about his training. Maybe a little of both. Trick watched for another long moment. Jinx stood on all fours for less than two minutes before he bent the back leg at the knee, taking the pressure off.

Not a great sign. Not the worst, either, though, which is what he’d expected after seeing the video from the rodeo.

Trick dropped down on his knees, running his hands up Jinx’s leg, pressing gently, prodding, gauging the horse’s reactions. Jinx flinched when Trick pushed into the hide just above his knee. The muscles in his sides clenched when Trick’s hands moved up the leg to the hip area. He didn’t cry out.

All in all, it could be worse. Trick said as much.

“I’ll check in on him weekly. But, Monica, I think this season is over for Jinx.”

“It’s bruising. The vet in Utah said as much.” The words were plea as much as statement. She wanted to get back out on the road, he knew. Away from him. Away from the ranch. Away from the ties she tried so hard not to feel.

“I agree. The deep bruising I felt just now is in line with the X-rays I saw two days ago. He needs the therapy pool, an hour or so every day. He needs room to walk — no riding for now. I’d say he’ll be ready for gentle riding in six weeks or so.” Trick held up his hand when Monica would have interrupted. He kept his gaze focused on her, needing her to hear his next words. Accept them. Because from what he could see now, Jinx would never race again. “Six weeks, at least. The bruising to his hip is very deep; he’s strained his knee. It’s not great.” Fear laced Monica’s green gaze and he fought to keep his hands at his sides. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t reply.

He turned his attention to Kathleen, who would give his instructions to the other trainers. “Six weeks, daily pool therapy, and he might run again. He’s never going to be a barrel racer again, and he probably shouldn’t be used as a cow horse. Light riding, gentle care.”

Concern lay under Kathleen’s voice. “Are you sure?”

Trick shrugged. “I’ve been surprised by horses before. He’s exhausted right now, after the ride in from Utah … ”

“I took it slow.” Monica interrupted.

“Slow was good, but it was still a lot of jostling at a time when he needed steady ground under his hooves.” Hurt flashed in her eyes, surprising him. He’d expected anger, especially after the phone call the day before. She made it clear she expected him to try to keep Jinx from competing, telling him that wouldn’t keep her in Lockhardt. But hurt? Trick wanted to back up, pull her into his arms and tell her she did everything right. He couldn’t do that. If she had stayed in Lockhardt, if she’d allowed one tiny portion of her life to become entangled with another person, this wouldn’t have happened.

“I’ll come out in a day or so and do a more thorough exam. We’ll get new X-rays next week. Right now, he needs rest; he needs the water.”

“We’ll make sure he gets it.” Kathleen motioned to Mat. “Will you help me get a stall ready for him in the barn? Monica, give us fifteen minutes before you bring him up.” She and Mat moved off toward the horse barn, heads bent together as they spoke.

Trick turned to Monica. “Before you get all emotional about your horse’s rodeo future and my diagnosis, I think you did an amazing job with him in the ring. Nothing you did caused him extra pain.”

“Not even starting him cross country two days after the fall?” The words were quiet. She folded her arms over her chest, as if holding in some emotion that scared her more than the bull in the ring.

Trick frowned. If he’d made the choice, she wouldn’t have. But Kathleen and her staff were amazing trainers and the facilities on the Double Diamond among the best in the country, so it was possible no further harm had been done that couldn’t be mended. He reached out to take her hand, to reassure her that Jinx would be okay, but Monica pulled away.

“Not here.”

“It was a handshake, Monica. I wasn’t going to accost you in the middle of the ranch.”

She pushed her hat back on her head. Looked up at him through those clear, green eyes. “I know. I … ”

He reached out, traced her jawline with his index finger. Heat flared deep in the depths of her gaze. “You didn’t cause any more harm to Jinx. If anyone can work a miracle on him, it’s your sister.”

She stared up at him for a long minute and then moved around him, toward the trailer. “Will you help me with something in here?”

Trick followed and was barely inside the trailer when Monica launched herself into his arms.

“Did you miss me?” She whispered the words against his mouth, nibbled his lower lip. Trick knew it was a rhetorical question. He knew Monica would go running into the Texas afternoon if he answered with one hundred percent honesty. So for the first time today he kept his big mouth shut — figuratively speaking — and fell into the moment.

Her mouth was hot on his, demanding. Mad at her or not for risking her life in that bull pen, he couldn’t resist her. Trick dug his hands into her hair, breaking the elastic at her nape in the process. Monica wrapped one leg around his, pushing herself against him, as if their bodies might become one hot, writhing unit. Trick pushed his tongue between her lips, wanting to taste more of her.