Cowgirl In Love

“The will stipulates that the three sons shall inherit the ranch and the surrounding property provided you all live on the ranch for one year.”

Ty Hartman stared at the lawyer as the older man ran a thin, bony finger along the lines of the will, reading out the stipulations in a monotone, blissfully unaware that he had just hammered a nail through all of Ty’s dreams.

There was no way this was real.

He was the one who stuck around the ranch. Colton left. His mom left. He stayed.

He was the one who kept it going. The one who kept the animals alive and the fences mended even after his father had given up on everything and fallen into a depression. Beau had laid off all the ranch hands and reduced the herds to nothing. Despite that, he stuck around to make sure what little was left was up and running. And he did it all because this land was his legacy. He wanted to pass it on to his kids, and their kids, and keep it right where it belonged—in the family.

It was his dream to not only carry on the legacy, but to set up his vet practice on the ranch, eventually expanding to the point that he could hire more vets, take on specialty cases, and build a reputation as a cutting-edge operation.

And this was how his father thanked him for sticking around when no one else had? By making him share the ranch with two people who didn’t want to be there so that he was at risk of losing it? Colton had walked away a decade ago with no plans to return. Hell, Ty hadn’t even known that Jace—a half-brother—existed until two weeks ago. Jace had no knowledge of their legacy and to date had shown no interest.

“Our father is trying to manipulate us, even from the grave, and I’m not falling for this bullshit,” Colton snapped. He shoved forward in his chair, gripping the armrests.

Ty barely heard the words over the roar in his ears. He’d thought Beau had changed. That his father had finally acknowledged him. And instead, he passed two-thirds of the ranch to his brothers, who would no doubt want to sell. He knew that Colton was practically counting the seconds until he could get on the next plane out of Montana, and, despite not knowing Jace all that well, there was no denying that Jace looked at his watch more times than was necessary.

Ty shifted in the chair, the old wood and leather creaking under his weight.

“Is there a period of time that we can leave for and not break the will?” Again it was Colton, his voice carrying that tense note he always had when he spoke about their father.

The lawyer glanced over his glasses, taking time to stare at each of them in turn. “You can leave for one month, at most, during this one-year probation period. If you leave for longer than a month, you forfeit your right to the inheritance, and the estate will be donated to the University of Montana’s agricultural department.”

Ty held his breath as the lawyer glanced back at the document and continued to lay out the rules in the same monotone as before. Essentially, they all three needed to stay on the ranch, or they would lose the property.

The lawyer would stop by intermittently to check on them, and he only lived about a couple miles away, which was not that far in rural terms.

One thing was for certain, there was no way in hell Ty was leaving this ranch. His boots were staying firmly planted in Garnet Valley and the Rocking H land. He was going to follow the rules. However, he wasn’t so sure about Colton or Jace. Neither of them wanted to stay on the ranch and both had been pretty clear about it.

Meanwhile, Colton kept throwing out possibilities as to how they could keep the ranch while he returned to California.

He needs cash.

That was the only reason Ty could think of that would cause his brother to want to keep a ranch that had never meant anything to him.

Maybe Jace was in the same boat. He looked just as interested as Colton in leaving as quickly as possible while still holding onto the property.

Ty’s gut clenched. If they needed cash, they’d want to sell when the year was up.

But the ranch was Ty’s life, his blood. He couldn’t lose it.

His brain shifted into overdrive. There had to be a way to fix this. What had his father been thinking, passing the ranch to all three of them, when two of them didn’t care? His dad knew Ty’s plans and dreams.

And once again, his father completely disregarded them.

“We aren’t interested in our legacy. Is there no other alternative?” Colton demanded as soon as he ran out of scenarios where he could leave and still hang onto the property.

That spurred Ty into action. If he didn’t say something soon, the ranch would belong to the University of Montana and all three of them would be left with nothing.

“Speak for yourself,” Ty snapped, turning on his older brother. “The legacy is ours, and I don’t want to throw it away.” More than anything, it deserved to be passed down to future generations, even if all that remained were rundown buildings and a pathetically tiny herd of livestock.

“You don’t plan to keep the ranch, do you?” Colton’s incredulous question was answer enough for Ty. Colton needed cash.

“The ranch is ours, and I don’t think we should make any rash decisions about it.” He spoke with the same voice he used with panicked clients who brought in their injured animals.

Both brothers stared at him like he had sprouted antlers.

His throat felt tight, too tight, making it impossible to breathe. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to break one as it worked overtime to keep oxygen circulating.

It seemed that his heart was as panicked as his brain.

“I’ll fight this,” Colton hissed at the lawyer, but the barb felt more aimed at Ty than at the lawyer.

Colton clearly wanted to sell.

Ty closed his eyes, feeling sick as his mind whirled in circles trying to figure out how to handle the situation. He had to stop his brothers from breaking the ranch into three parts and selling it—or worse, losing it all together. Their jobs weren’t tied to the land. His was. If he lost the ranch, he’d have nowhere to live.

He needed to start saving as soon as possible. Thankfully, he had a year to add to the nest egg he had built up. The trouble was, there was no way he could afford to buy out both brothers. Which meant he needed at least one brother to stick around after the year probation period.

And if he bought out a brother, there was no way he could afford to expand his practice to the ranch. It was like his dad was forcing him to choose—the ranch that was his legacy or the vet practice he had built from scratch.

Ty glanced at the man who was supposedly his eldest brother. The shock of seeing someone who looked like him and Colton still hadn’t eased.

Jace’s jaw was tense, and he gripped the ends of the armrests in his tight fists. There was no way Jace was going to stick around. He’d lived his whole life unaware of Montana or his legacy. Sure, he was from Texas, but did this guy even know a horse from a cow?

The lawyer finally wrapped up the reading. The second the will was set on the desk, and the lawyer was done, Colton was on his feet and out of the office, moving faster than a herd of cows bolting toward an open gate.

Shit. Ty stared at his brother’s retreating back before willing his feet forward.

He still didn’t have an idea if either Jace or Colton planned to stick around. They needed to get something sorted between the three of them. Because if even one of them left, the ranch was instantly forfeited.

He needed both men to stick around, including Colton, who would rather cut off an arm than do anything for his father. Hopefully Colton would be willing to stay as a favor for a brother.

Ty pushed out of the chair and chased after his brother. “Colton, we need to hash this out.”

“There’s nothing to hash out. I’m not sticking around. I can’t do this. I have to go back to California.”

“Then we lose this ranch,” he snapped. His life, sweat, and time were engrained in the lands of the Rocking H. He couldn’t lose it. His dreams were centered around this ranch. His ranch. “The ranch is our legacy.”

“Ha!” Colton whirled around and jabbed him in the chest. “Our legacy? A bitter man lived there and ran it into the ground.”

And he was doing everything he could to keep it from falling apart. Once he moved his practice to the ranch, he could dedicate more time and funds to repairing the ranch and restore it to its former glory. He almost, almost told Colton.

But he snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything. After all, Colton had left ten years ago. It wasn’t like he was that close to his brother anymore. Colton probably thought it was a ridiculous idea to keep the ranch, dream or no dream.

“Look, we all know Dad wasn’t the greatest, but that doesn’t mean we should throw our history out. William Hartman started the ranch six generations ago. It’s ours, well and truly.” He was practically pleading with his brother, trying to make him realize just how valuable the ranch was—for all of them. Of him and Jace, Colton would be the one who understood how important the legacy was. He and their dad may have fought, but he’d been raised on the land.

Colton shook his head and pressed his palms against his eyes. “I don’t want to deal with this now.”

Ty stared at his brother, his neck tense in frustration. “Colton, I have big plans centered around this ranch.”

Colton’s jaw set as he met Ty’s gaze before dropping his head and rubbing at the back of his head.

“Sorry, Ty.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Colton hopped into his SUV and backed out of the spot.

“I’ve got to admit,” Jace said as they watched Colton drive off, “I’m with your brother on this. What are we going to do with the ranch? Our lives are elsewhere.”

“Mine’s not,” he said stonily, fury at his father riding him hard.

His life was on the ranch. And it was sifting through his fingers like grains of sand.

There had to be a way to convince his brothers to stick around. He hadn’t spent years dealing with Beau to have his dreams go down the drain.

Colton was right about one thing; his dad was an ass. Ty had tried, damn how he tried, to make his relationship with his dad work, but his dad was never happy. Not with anything, or anyone, especially not with him.

His brother was wrong about the legacy, though. Ty was going to make sure it lived on in his name. One way or another, the Rocking H belonged to him.

Four months later The song blasting on the speakers pointed toward the dance floor was classic country George Strait, and honestly, the music was the only thing making this dance tolerable.

Ty Hartman muttered the words to the song under his breath as he wove through the crowd searching for his two brothers who had talked him into coming along only to ditch him the second their women wanted to dance.

It was the first year the Dillon Rodeo Board had decided to have a dance as part of the rodeo weekend, and it appeared to be a huge success, if Ty was any judge. Unfortunately, large crowds, loud music, and drunk people everywhere were not his vibe. He preferred working quietly with animals.

The parking lot outside the arena was blocked off with straw bales and barrels to create the outdoor event space, and the early fall evening air felt even warmer with the press of bodies on the dance floor and milling about.

More than anything, he was ready to head back to his hotel and crash before another big day as one of the rodeo veterinarians. Unfortunately, his two brothers—Jace and Colton—had disappeared over an hour ago, and he hadn’t seen them since. For the dozenth time that night, he wished he had insisted on driving himself rather than let Colton talk him into heading over with him and his girlfriend Gus. Despite the fact he hated being at the whim of others, he’d agreed.

Turning slowly on his heel, he scanned the crowd carefully, trying to spot one of his brothers or their significant others. Instead, he ran into Roy Silverman, a successful team roper who Ty had worked with many times on the Montana rodeo circuit.

Ty tucked his thumbs in his pockets and tried to paste on a friendly look despite the fact he’d rather just find his brothers and leave.

“Hey, Ty.” Roy shook Ty’s hand. “I overheard you talking with Josh about pressure point therapy earlier. He looked pretty up in arms. I wanted to make sure everything was good between you two.”

Josh was Roy’s team roping partner and his horse had a recent injury. Ty offered to try pressure point therapy on the gelding, but Josh was convinced Ty was peddling some sort of snake oil to try to make a buck off the team roper. The more Ty tried to convince the cowboy otherwise, the more annoyed Josh got until Ty just gave up.

Ty shook his head and took a step back. “Everything is fine. I thought I would offer a service to help out Josh’s horse, but it looks like he’d rather just wait and see.”

Roy nodded, his mouth pulled tight. “It does sound like a bit of hocus-pocus. Pressure point therapy—that’s what you call it, right? Have you had a successful case?”

Reluctantly, he shook his head. “I haven’t had an opportunity to try it myself.”

“Right. Hey, if you have proof it works and someone to back it up, let me know. I’ll send all my horses your way,” Roy said, then added, “Josh’s horses as well.”

That was the challenge about some of the cowboys around these parts—they always went with the familiar, and something new wasn’t readily accepted until they had the proof in front of their eyes.

Nonetheless, he would keep trying. He wrapped up the small talk with Roy and went back in search of his brothers.

However, between the dim lighting and the hundreds of people, it was impossible to spot them in the sea of cowboy hats. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and let out a frustrated snort. So far, no one had responded to his texts that he was ready to head back.

Pressing the pad of his palm against the bridge of his nose, he started searching for someone he knew that wouldn’t mind giving him a ride. He gazed through the crowd, scanning for a familiar face, when his eyes landed on her.

His heart slammed to a sudden halt, jolting in his chest so hard, his breath jammed in his throat.

Damn it.

Caught like a deer in headlights, he stopped, rooted in place, unable to look away as Ella James Sanders leaned against a small stack of straw, legs stretched out in front of her. Her long dark hair cascaded in waves to just below her breasts. She tapped her dark boot against the pavement in rhythm with the music. With a lazy grace that defined all her movements, she raised a bottle of beer to her lips and took a long pull as she watched the crowd of people dance.

Even after all these years, his reaction to Ella had not changed. Hell, it had gotten worse with time.

And he hated it.

Despite his best efforts, despite the fact he no longer wanted anything to do with her, and despite the knowledge she clearly didn’t like him for reasons still unknown, his heart shoved away from his ribs and began to pulse wildly.

He had been avoiding her for the past two days—hell, for the entire rodeo season—but since he’d been hired to provide vet services for these rodeo events, and she was the rising barrel racing star of the year, it wasn’t a surprise he’d run into her eventually. That didn’t make it any easier.

Ella ran her fingers through the long length of her curls, her silky hair easing through her fingers before bouncing back into place.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Ella had been clear she wanted nothing to do with him the last time they spoke. And after being rejected twice, the feeling was mutual. He wasn’t going to go out on a limb for her again.

She hadn’t seen him yet, so there was no reason he couldn’t back away and pretend he never saw her. She’d be none the wiser.

Stepping back, he pulled his gaze away. Hard to believe that she’d been his high school crush. Despite the bad blood between their fathers, he always felt drawn to her. Her determination to come out on top at rodeos, the no-nonsense way she handled everything from cattle drives to conversations, and the way she laughed right after giving one of her rare smiles drew him to her.

After a year of crushing on her, he had decided that asking her to junior prom was the best way to let her know his feelings. Of course he couldn’t just ask her, he wanted this prom proposal to be special. Weeks went into planning it—where to do it, how to ask, the music he would play. While he wasn’t one for grand gestures or big to-dos, as a junior in high school with oversized feelings and a planet-sized crush, he felt the only way to win her over was a big display.

Clearly Ella had not felt the same way. Because after blasting “Hooked on a Feeling” from the stadium loudspeakers and having his dog trot out with a sign that he had decorated himself asking her to prom as he got down on one knee holding a bouquet of flowers, she very swiftly and cleanly cut him down in front of his friends and half the school.

Talk about a wake-up call.

The dance music switched from George Strait to a top hit that Ty didn’t know the name of. The pop-country beat blared from the nearby speaker as he took a step back and turned away before Ella could spot him. However, before he could stop himself, a moment of weakness took over. Turning back, he took her in once more.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

Or rather it was the two men walking toward her that stopped him. Ty narrowed his eyes as Jeff Parker and his sidekick Aaron Roberts headed for Ella.

Years ago, he and Jeff had been friends. Small towns and travel to junior rodeo then high school rodeo threw the two of them together frequently, and from childhood through high school, Ty had chosen to turn a blind eye to the fact Jeff never heard the word “no” growing up, hoping Jeff would end up a decent human being. Unfortunately, he ended up very much like his entitled, cheating father and Ty had cut ties a few years ago.

The two ambled over to Ella with a loose-limbed stagger that sent up warning flags.

Instinct kept him anchored in place as Ella’s laid-back posture became rigid as the men approached.

Where were her friends? Ella had always been independent, even in high school. However, he knew she was rarely on her own these days since becoming a top barrel racer in the Montana circuit.

He didn’t approach yet. For all he knew, the two guys were going to say hi and then disappear into the night. Or veer in another direction at the last minute.

As though sensing her gaze on him, Ella turned toward him, and her eyes met his.

His breath caught in his throat, and despite the distance between them, a slow sizzle of heat burned through him.

But as Jeff and Aaron closed in on her, her expression shifted from surprised to vulnerable. Before Ty could think twice, he was moving toward her with grim determination. After their past encounters, Ella may not be his favorite person in the world, and he sure as heck wasn’t hers, but there was no way in hell he was going to leave her to defend herself with these guys.

Jeff leaned against the straw bales, blocking her exit on one side. Aaron situated himself right in front of her. The two men moved in a way that confirmed to Ty the amount of alcohol they had consumed.

He couldn’t get to her fast enough. The second he was close enough for her—and these two assholes—to hear him over the music, he called out her name.

Her head jerked in his direction, and there was no way he was imagining the relief on her face. Ella wrapped an arm over her chest and hooked her fingers around the strap of her simple black tank, as though locking a shield into place. “It’s good to see you.”

Yep, if Ella was happy to see him, she was definitely uncomfortable.

“I was looking for my brothers and spotted you. Thought I’d say hi.” He gestured at the two men scowling at him. “Wanted to make sure everything was good.”

“Everything is fine,” Jeff slurred, leaning heavily against the straw bales and fixing Ella with a leering gaze that made Ty clench his hands into hard fists. “Just saying hi to Ella here.”

His presence must have given her courage because Ella pulled her shoulders back. “These two were just saying hi and continuing on their way.”

“Ella, honey. Don’t be like that.” Jeff pushed away from the stack of straw and farther into her space. “You know, Lindsey and I broke up. You and I—”

Ella cringed, the movement so miniscule the two men probably didn’t notice, but it was just enough that Ty’s anger flared hot.

“I don’t think so,” he snapped, shoving a hand hard against the other man’s chest and inserting himself between them and Ella. “The lady asked you to go. I think it’s time to go.”

“Just one dance first,” Jeff crooned. He reached around Ty to hold out his hand.

Even with his back to her, Ty could feel her recoil. “No way, Jeff. I made that mistake with you once before. It’s never going to happen again.”

He almost took his eyes off Jeff. This happened once before? That was news to Ty, and pretty surprising. Especially considering Jeff had been dating Lindsey for years.

Jeff’s scowled deepened as he lunged for her hand. “You act all high and mighty for someone whose family is trash—”

Ty heard Ella’s sharp intake of breath, and his restraint begun to fray. Ella Sanders may have grown up on the wrong side of town, but she was not trash. Yes, her family had struggled at times, but that didn’t make the Sanders family less than Jeff and his kind in any way.

“It’s time to move on,” Ty growled. He slammed his hand down onto Jeff’s shoulder, pressing hard against the other man’s clavicle and digging his thumb under Jeff’s collarbone.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed but he flinched from Ty’s grip.

Sure there were two of them, but Ty had them both in height and build. And there was no way Jeff had forgotten the time that Ty bested him in high school when he’d gotten too hands with Ty’s then-girlfriend.

“Go away, Jeff.” Ella’s voice was surprisingly firm. “You’re drunk, and I’m not interested in dancing with you. Now or ever.”

“She doesn’t want to dance with you,” Ty repeated, driving the point home.

Jeff looked ready to argue, but Ty shot him another hard look, and the other cowboy relented. Aaron, who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time, preferring to leer at Ella, jerked his head.

“Whatever, dude.” Jeff gave one last slimy look, then he and Aaron turned away. “She isn’t worth it anyway.”

Ty kept his eyes on them until the two men were out of site. Their path was more of a zigzag than a straight line as they disappeared into the crowd.

Once he was certain the two were not returning, he faced Ella. Part of him wanted to look her over, pull her close, and make sure she was okay. However, he knew better. Ella had barriers up when it came to him, and he wasn’t willing to cross them.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of what to say to ease the situation.

“The dude doesn’t like no,” he offered.

Ella rolled her eyes and grabbed the jacket and purse sitting on the straw stack behind her. “Apparently not. I was thrilled when he left Garnet Valley, but I still see him at rodeos.” She motioned in the direction the two men had left. “My past lack of judgment seems to haunt me when it comes to that one.”

He must have done a bad job hiding his surprise because Ella’s frown deepened into a scowl.

Something had happened with her and Jeff. He didn’t know what it was, but it was clear Jeff felt she owed him in some way. A curl of anger on her behalf twisted through him.

Grabbing a lock of dark hair, she wound it, and then unwound it, from her finger.

“Where are your friends?” There was no way he was leaving her until he was certain that she was safe.

Ella dropped the curl. “I’m waiting for Jordan to grab drinks while I watch our stuff.” She looked around, as though waiting for Jordan to appear. A group of people passed by, waving at Ella and saying hi. Ella waved back as though she hadn’t been harassed or that she was hanging out with a man she’d coldly rejected for the second time six months ago. “I’m sure she’ll be here shortly. You don’t have to stick around.”

He wasn’t leaving her on her own. Not until he knew for sure those two assholes weren’t returning and that she was with her friend.

“You’re getting popular these days,” Ty said, trying for easy conversation.

“I think that’s what winning does for a woman,” she drawled, staring out at the crowds. Her eyes never landed on him. “Everyone seems to like a winner.”

There was no missing the barb in her voice. So much for an easy conversation.

“You were a winner before you started the pro circuit,” he muttered.

“Right,” Ella said, the tension evident in her reply. “I’m sure that’s what you and the rest of the town think… Oh, there’s Jordan. Thank god.”

With that, the conversation dried up. Drier than a creek bed in September after the snowpack had melted away.

Clearly, she wanted him to walk away. Now.

He stayed firmly rooted in place.

Maybe it was the evening air. Maybe it was the one beer he had to make this dance more tolerable. Or maybe it was the fact he wanted to see her walk off with Jordan, so he knew she was in good hands.

Or maybe he was a damn fool that couldn’t seem to walk away from her. Despite the fact she made her feelings clear—twice.

“That line took forever,” Jordan said, a little breathlessly. She carried a bottle of water and a beer. She handed the water to Ella. “Hey, Ty. Fancy seeing you here, cowboy.”

He nodded hello but kept his eyes on Ella.

As though sensing the mood, Jordan’s gaze quickly went between them. “Is everything okay?”

Ella scrunched her nose but nodded. “Fine. Just fine. But if it’s good by you, I’m ready to head back.”

Jordan cocked her head to the side but didn’t question Ella’s request.

“I guess I’m tired as well.” Jordan held her Bud Light out to Ty. “Beer?”

Bud Light wasn’t his favorite, but he took it without question.

“I won’t keep you then,” Ella said, lifting her dark brows. She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth as though she had more to add. Just when he thought she was going to say something else, she lifted her hand in an awkward wave before following her friend to the parking lot.

He watched her leave, telling himself he wanted to make sure she was safe the entire time.

“Ty,” a familiar voice called out as Ella and Jordan disappeared behind a row of trucks.

He closed his eyes, uncertain if he was annoyed or grateful. Either way, at least one of his brothers finally found him.

Colton threw an arm around his shoulders. “Was that Ella Sanders I saw you talking to?”

Ty ran his hand over his face and suppressed a groan. The last person he wanted to talk to about Ella was his happily paired off brother.

“It’s not what you think,” he said quietly, pulling away from Colton’s arm. Ella had proven time and again she wanted nothing to do with him, which was why he usually tried to avoid her. It was the easiest solution. “Look, I’m ready to head back if that works for you guys.”

He had a long day ahead of him, and despite the fact he should stay away, he knew he’d find her tomorrow. The least he could do was make sure she was okay and that she and Jordan got home safe.

After that, he could go back to avoiding her.

“It’s almost time, Red.” Ella leaned against her horse and took a deep breath. Her nerves were already performing their funny little dances in her belly, but this time, they had an extra punch with each jump and twist.

Considering that she and Jordan were staying at a motel only five minutes away, she’d had a heck of a time getting to the fairgrounds. She’d barely slept after last night’s events at the dance. Every time she closed her eyes, Ty coming to her rescue floated to her mind. Even after she had shut him down only a few months earlier, he’d still been protective of her.

Why?

When sleep finally overtook her, it was in the wee hours of the morning, and she ended up sleeping past her alarm. In her hurry to get out the door, she left her wallet in the room. After turning around to retrieve it, her truck got a flat tire before she could pull into the worn hotel parking lot. At least she had a spare tire and a lot of experience changing them, but it still made her an hour late to the fairgrounds.

She was sweating by the time she got her horse from the stall she had leased for the night.

Bad things happen in threes.

At least that’s what her elderly neighbor, Ms. Minna, would say when things weren’t going her way. Did sleeping in count as a bad thing?

She hoped so.

Red, her well-muscled sorrel mare, leaned slightly against her as Ella forced the superstitious thought from her mind. Closing her eyes, she mentally played out the pending run.

“We need to make this run count.” Ella gave her horse a loving pat on the shoulder. This was one of the last rodeos of the season, and she and Red were right on the cusp of making it to the National Finals Rodeo. She had been neck-in-neck with Lindsey Whitmore all season, but Ella had just recently pulled ahead in the standings.

If everything went well, she’d finally have enough money to buy a small ranch and start her dream of training barrel horses. Then she could prove she wasn’t some poor soul who grew up on the wrong side of town.

The announcer’s energetic voice echoed over the fairgrounds calling out the team roping. The crowd was getting worked up as the summer sun dipped behind the towering mountains and the temperature began to cool. Barrel racing was up next, and she needed a perfect run.

She could do it. After deciding to go pro this year, she and Red exploded onto the scene, placing in one rodeo after another. Now they were expected to win.

The success was thrilling. She had saved enough to buy a new trailer a couple months ago. Well, new to her. It was used but better than the rusted one she’d been hauling around for years.

More importantly, her dream goal to buy a small ranch to train barrel horses was finally within reach.

Ella ran her hand over her mare’s neck, the nerves starting to take hold.

Unfortunately, the more wins she stacked up and the closer she came to her goal, the more pressure she felt to perform. She needed to succeed. Had to win. That sickening, nauseous feeling she got before every race was now creeping into her stomach, making her joints weak, and her head swim.

Arf arf arf! A blue-speckled puppy in the bed of the giant silver pickup parked next to her trailer yapped energetically at whatever caught its attention—people, its tail, the butterfly in the breeze.

Everyone who passed by thought the little pup was cuter than all get out. Red, however, had a much different opinion.

The horse flicked her ears back and forth as Ella tacked up, going through the motions as she tried to push back the numbness flooding her limbs.

“Knock it off, girl,” Ella grumbled as she bent to strap the blue sport boots around her horse’s delicate lower limbs. Before a race, it didn’t take much to make her whip-fast horse antsy. This puppy seemed to be the excuse her horse needed to get worked up.

Red snorted but held still long enough to let out a big sigh, giving Ella time to strap on all four boots. The horse’s delicate ears, one of Red’s only pretty features, continued to pivot back and forth.

Her best friend Jordan was in the tack room, handing over equipment as Ella finished saddling up.

“I’m going to grab something to eat,” her friend said, motioning in the direction of the food stands once Red was tacked up. “Do you want anything? It’s on me.”

“I’m good,” Ella said. Eating right before a race didn’t mix with her nerves. There was a PB and J sandwich stashed in her cooler for after the race—a cheaper alternative to the rodeo burger since she was saving every dollar earned for a down payment. She dreamed of the day she no longer needed to drive to the local arena in order to work out with Red.

“Alright.” Jordan stepped out of the tack room. “In case I don’t get back before you take off, good luck with the race. You and Red will kill it.”

As if aware someone was talking about her, Red turned her narrow, anvil-shaped head to look at them.

“You’re going to Vegas this year, girl,” Jordan said, giving Red a pat, and then Ella a quick squeeze. “Don’t forget I have to take off right after your run, but I’ll see you back in Garnet Valley.”

Ella returned the hug. Jordan had been her best friend for years. Her family had lent her a barrel horse during high school rodeo when her dad had to sell hers to the Hartmans; an issue that still ate at her. “Thanks for coming! I’ll see you soon.”

A few people called hello as Ella grabbed a long-sleeved shirt hanging in the backseat of her truck. She waved back before jumping into the tack room to change.

That was the biggest change from high school rodeo. Once she started winning, everyone became friendlier. It was as though no one had ever judged her for her borrowed horse, faded clothes, or the fact that she was just a touch too thin. No one seemed to care anymore that she grew up in a trailer and had a father who couldn’t keep a job.

Even Ty, who had played the prom prank on her in high school, was friendlier now that she was a top barrel racer. While she had been flattered when he approached her at the bar a few months ago, she knew better than to fall for someone like Ty. She had already been burned once, and that was enough.

She tucked her shirt into the waistband of her jeans and grabbed her makeup bag.

It was time to get her head into the game.

Pulling out a red lipstick, she ran the color over her lips and checked her reflection in the trailer mirror. Pushing her dark curls over her shoulders, she pulled her lucky cowgirl hat low over her head. Her cowgirl battle armor in place, she grabbed her bridle and left the tack room.

“Ella?” The rugged voice stopped her in her tracks, and a different kind of nerves washed over her.

Her mouth went dry. Drier than the dirt under her feet from the overly hot day and the thousands of boots and hooves that stamped it to dust.

She would recognize that voice anywhere. The way her body flushed, heating slowly from her core to her extremities, was enough to tell her who it was.

Slowly she turned around to face the one man she always noticed, even when she didn’t want to.

He stood there, thumbs tucked in the front pockets of his worn jeans, looking like every bit of sin imaginable. Ty Hartman was the chocolate desert she craved and still denied herself from having a taste.

Maybe, just maybe, she could have forgiven him for trying to pull a prom prank on her their junior year of high school, but there was no way she’d ever trust another handsome, privileged cowboy from Garnet Valley. Not after Jeff, and Ty and Jeff had been friends for years.

He protected you last night, the little voice in her head reminded her.

But that didn’t change the fact that the Jeffs and Tys grew up in a different world than she did. They inherited ranches and always had the best horses. She had to pull together a few hundred to buy the ugliest horse at a nearby ranch to train for rodeo. She’d only lucked out when Red turned out to be a winner.

And if Jeff thought she was trash, there was no doubt Ty thought the same thing. Ty’s father always seemed to look down on her family, even as he hired them as extra hands.

Even though she was the rising rodeo star of Montana, she would always be from the wrong side of town. And, as her dad pointed out, they would never be good enough in the eyes of people who simply inherited ranches.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said lightly. She turned back to her horse, her pulse stuttering as she heard the crunch of sand as Ty moved closer.

Red snorted as though even the horse didn’t believe her lie. Everyone knew the sexy vet was contracted with the local rodeos in the area in case something went wrong with any of the animals. And for some reason, there were plenty of cowgirls who seemed to find the privileged vet attractive. Some even planned their circuits around his schedule.

She, on the other hand, had better things to do with her time than to deal with men who only wanted her while she was at the top of her game.

Ty leaned against the trailer, pressing his shoulder into the stainless-steel side as though he didn’t plan to move until they talked. “Someone told me you had a flat tire this morning. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She lifted her brow at him. “I’m fine. I’m capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”

Ty glanced down at her tires and kicked one with the pointed toe of his boot.

She gritted her teeth. “They aren’t bald, if that’s what you’re checking.”

“Just neighborly concern.” Ty crossed his arms. The movement flexed the muscles in his chest, and of course the man had the top few buttons of his shirt undone. “I wanted to make sure you got back okay after last night.”

Pressing her lips together, Ella forced her gaze back up to his. The man’s eyes were brighter than the summer sky, and the fact that she even noticed rankled.

She placed a hand on Red’s neck. “I’m good. Just happy that Jeff moved on.”

Ty’s assessing gaze didn’t leave her face.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. Though to be honest, she had been relieved to see Ty last night. It wasn’t that she expected Jeff to try anything, not in the middle of a crowded dance, but she hated that Jeff thought she’d come crawling back now that he and Lindsey broke up.

Ty had put a quick end to that.

And she was grateful for that. Which was a new feeling in terms of how she felt about Ty.

“You know, if anything ever comes up, you can call.” Ty snapped his mouth shut the second the words were out. Like he couldn’t believe he just offered for her to reach out.

Not that it mattered. She never would. The last thing she needed was a Hartman to come to her rescue. Her father got burned by that once, and the experience was enough for her to learn her lesson about the Hartmans’ generosity.

Her hand clenched in Red’s mane. “I don’t have your number.”

“I’m happy to give it to you.”

“I’ll search for it on the web when I need it.” In other words, thanks but no thanks.

Ty didn’t seem to be taking the hint. His gaze didn’t move as she busied herself, checking her cinch for the fifth time.

“What?” she asked after a few long seconds.

Ty shook his head. “I just—” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the dark locks. “Never mind.”

Now she was intrigued.

Warning, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered. Finding Ty interesting was not a path she wanted to wander down.

Ty let out a breath and ran a hand along Red’s nose. The horse nickered softly, pressing her muzzle into Ty’s palm.

Ella glared at her horse.

Traitor.

“I need to warm up.” Her words were curt, cutting the conversation short. The warm, fluttery feelings were driving her up the wall, and she didn’t like feeling out of control.

Especially before her event. Even more so since the fluttery feelings were for a guy she swore never to trust.

“Ty, thanks for your concern,” she added, as she eased the halter down Red’s nose and slipped the bit into her horse’s mouth. “I’m good. Your conscience can be eased.”

He scowled at her.

Bingo. That was exactly why he was here.

“I’m not easing my conscience,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“I don’t have time for it either way. I need to focus.” She had a race ahead of her, and the last thing she wanted was Ty Hartman and that sexy gaze of his bleeding into her thoughts when her focus should be on winning.

“Fine.” Ty reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white card. “Here.”

He took her hand and shoved the card into it, crumpling the edges against her palm, as the calluses on his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of her fingertips.

Her fingers flexed inward toward his own, trapping the card against her palm.

“Just in case you need my number.” He jerked his chin at her hands.

“I don’t—” She was cut off by the announcer.

“AND UP NEXT—BARREL RACING.” The words rang clear across the rodeo grounds. “We’ll take a short break as we set up the arena.”

“Oh shoot!” Ella spun away from Ty. “I’ve got to go.”

She crammed the card in her back pocket without looking at it.

Red was giving her a horsey look of “about time” and stamped her hoof as the puppy continued to yap.

Ella’s heart slammed against her ribs, the feeling amplified by each sharp puppy bark. Slipping her foot into the stirrup, she tried to swing up, but Red danced sideways.

“Red,” Ella said, the word squeaking out of her throat, tightened with nerves. She pushed up again, but Red wasn’t having it, and she couldn’t get the momentum to swing into the saddle.

“Here.” Ty’s voice was a deep grumble, and he grabbed the reins to hold Red in place, his body close enough that she could smell the scent of pine and leather as she mounted the horse.

“Thanks,” she muttered, barely able to look at him. The small white card felt like it was burning in her back pocket.

She nudged Red forward and was immediately stopped by a blond woman on a big buckskin horse passing by. Ella tried not to roll her eyes as Lindsey Whitmore looked her up and down, the other woman’s lip lifted in a look of disdain.

Lindsey had once been her friend in high school when Ella started seeing moderate success at barrels. Ella had been so enamored with the fact that the prettiest and richest girl in school wanted to be friends with her, that she hadn’t even bothered to ask why Lindsey was suddenly friendly with her. It was the first time Ella had felt truly accepted by her peers, and that year had been one of the best times of her life.

Then she started beating Lindsey at barrels.

Lindsey claimed she didn’t care, but it was impossible to ignore the fact her friend was growing distant and her remarks became more cutting. Ella finally couldn’t ignore it any longer when she overheard Lindsey plotting with her friends to have one of the most popular boys in school ask Ella to prom—only to ditch her the night of the event.

And, of course, she had told Lindsey the week before about her crush on Ty. Leave it to Lindsey to seek revenge once Ella become legitimate rodeo competition.

“Back on the ugliest horse on this planet, huh?” Lindsey quirked an eyebrow at her before riding away. Ella opened her mouth to comment but swallowed the words back. Lindsey wasn’t worth it, and she still needed to warm up.

Long-trotting over to the warm-up arena, Ella took Red through a few quick rounds until Red’s focus was entirely on her and the only thing on her mind was the race ahead of her.

“Ella Sanders, on deck,” the announcer called.

Her heart lurched, but this time, rather than feeling queasy, she clenched her hands firmly around the reins.

She needed this win.

Urging Red forward, they headed to the arena, arriving just as the cowgirl ahead of her finished her run.

“Aaaaand up is Ella James Sanders,” the announcer drawled. “Keep an eye on this home-grown cowgirl and her horse Red. Just because Red isn’t the prettiest mare to look at doesn’t mean this horse doesn’t know her barrels. This is Ella’s first year on the pro-rodeo circuit, and this feisty cowgirl is blasting through the ranks.”

The crowd’s roar echoed in her ears as Red pranced into place. This was their shared love. What bonded them as a pair. Red lived for the barrels.

Red breaths came in short, heavy bursts as the horse’s muscles bunched under the saddle. For a split second, time held still, the nerves disappeared, and then they were off like a shot. Red flew into the arena full speed as her hooves pounded into the sand. Ella glared down the first barrel and seated herself tight into the saddle as they set up their pocket and whipped around the first of three.

The wind roared in her ears, blocking out any sound. Their entire focus, every breath, every second was centered on the barrel in front of them.

Ella switched her hands on the rein and saddle cantle as they approached the second barrel. Red pivoted around it, her muscles bunching in powerful bursts, before they launched toward the third and final barrel.

The third barrel was always Red’s most challenging, as they frequently cut the pocket a bit too close.

They approached the barrel at breakneck speed, Red slowing down just enough to whirl around it. Ella could feel the edge of metal brush against her knee, but she didn’t look back as they raced toward the finish line. Red’s strides ate up ground so fast Ella wondered if her horse’s hooves even touched the sand.

There was a split second of silence as she and her horse circled to a stop. Both of them were panting and sweat was worked up on Red’s coat. Blood thrummed in Ella’s ears as she strained to hear her time.

“Whoop!” she yelled as the announcer called out a personal best.

“And that, ladies and gents, will place Ella at the top of the list. Boy, howdy, that was a helluva run, cowgirl! Thanks, Ella,” the announcer called. Ella smiled and waved at the crowd before exiting the arena.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to bring her down for the rest of the day. Even if Lindsey won the competition, she and Red had marked a personal best.

Red snorted, tossing her head as she pranced back to the trailer, too worked up to slow to a walk.

There were only three more cowgirls left, but at this point, it was out of her control. Right now, she needed to cool Red down, untack, unwind, and then head home. They had a long drive ahead of them.

People waved and called out “nice run” as she worked her way back to the trailer; Red fighting against the restraint of the reins and her tiedown. Thankfully, the puppy was nowhere in sight.

“Easy, girl,” Ella said, pulling gently on the reins. “I’m just going to grab some water, and then we can cool down.”

Red halted but energy radiated from every inch of the horse’s muscular body. Gripping the reins and Red’s mane in one hand, Ella swung her leg up and over. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the little, blue-speckled puppy sprinting out from behind the truck, boisterously yapping its head off.

And at the exact moment, some asshole honked their horn.

Red lost it.

Caught off guard by the sudden blare, Red reacted the way any high-strung horse would react—she spooked. The horse dropped down so suddenly Ella could feel air under her before she too dropped. One foot was still caught in the stirrup, trapping her in place. Ella clung to the horn, digging her fingernails painfully into the leather as Red bolted sideways, desperate to escape from whatever horse monster the truck and puppy turned out to be. Ella’s body jerked from Red’s sudden movement, twisting her body, but her foot caught in the stirrup didn’t move. A sharp pain tore from her knee, up her back and to her brain.

A cry ripped from her throat as she struggled to free her foot while clinging to the tiny saddle horn.

Finally, the stirrup popped off. The reins slid through her fingers, and she collapsed to the ground just in time to see Red, her usually trustworthy steed, take off toward the warm-up arena at a mad gallop.

There was the third bad event for the day.