Rodeo Sweetheart Read online

  “No, I, just—well…” Ethan’s voice trailed off and he coughed. “I thought maybe I could help out, if you were too busy to take a walk.”

  Sam turned to face him, the blue comb dangling from her fingers. Even Wildfire snorted, as if shocked. “You want to do chores?”

  “Sure.” Ethan straightened his slumped position on the gate and smiled. “Why not?”

  “Why not?” Sam laughed as she turned back to Wildfire’s mane. “Because you have no clue what you’re doing. Because you could get hurt. Because this is your vacation and you shouldn’t be working. Because—”

  “Okay, I get it.” Ethan held up both hands. “But I don’t mind. I can learn.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Sam tossed the comb in the bucket and clipped the lead rope that she’d draped over the stall door to Wildfire’s halter. “Excuse me.”

  Ethan backed away from the gate as Sam and Wildfire walked through, giving Wildfire’s back legs a wide berth. “Then what about a walk later tonight? After dinner?” His tone held a hopeful edge.

  Sam clucked to Wildfire and led him down the barn aisle. His shoed hooves clacked on the hard floor. “Again, thanks—but no thanks.” Sam refused to feel even slightly sympathetic or look back at Ethan standing alone in the barn aisle. She had zero interest in being a pawn for some rich boy’s family to manipulate with their weird games. She had chores to do, a ranch to save and a bull to ride.

  Starting with a steer tonight at eleven o’clock.

  Chapter Six

  The moon hung low in the velvet night sky, a shiny silver orb against a sea of black. Sam trudged through the shadows toward the north paddock, her boots silent on the dewy grass. Despite the late hour, adrenaline pulsed in her veins and her hands shook. She shoved them into the back pockets of her jeans as she walked.

  Maybe she was crazy. Riding a steer was nothing like riding a bull, as steers were significantly smaller, but it was all she had access to for practice. She’d sat on a bull once before on a dare—for about two seconds at a friend’s ranch as a young teenager. Of course, that was before her friend’s father ran outside, yelling at them for taking the risk and looking much scarier than the bull. After watching the competition at the local rodeo each year, Sam figured her brief stint couldn’t even come close to being the same.

  She rounded the corner of the barn, and the outline of the steer’s narrow horns inside the paddock siphoned into view. Cole, dressed in dark denim from head to foot, waited by the fence, one boot hung lazily on the bottom rail. A long rope was coiled over his shoulder. He straightened as she approached. “You ready for this, kid?”

  Sam nodded. Only Cole could get away with such a nickname. He’d started work at the Jenson farm right after he graduated high school, when Sam was a child, and stayed on full-time these past twenty years. Now he was more like a big brother than a hired hand. “Of course I’m ready. Bring it.”

  The tremor in Sam’s voice almost cancelled out the confident words, but to her relief, Cole didn’t seem to notice. “That’s what I like to hear.” He opened the paddock gate and motioned for Sam to go through first.

  She strode into the pen, keeping a wary eye on the steer. The miniature beast looked up from inside the makeshift chute Cole had concocted, and blinked lazily, grass dangling from its flabby lips. At this rate, riding would be a breeze—downright boring, even. But once Cole tied that rope around the steer’s hindquarters…Sam swallowed. “Where’d you get him?”

  “A friend with a cattle ranch a few miles west owed me a favor. He said we can borrow Lucy here for as long as we’d like.”

  “Lucy?”

  “Short for Lucifer.” Cole winked.

  Sam’s stomach flipped.

  “I know he looks calm now, but this here is a flank strap.” Cole gestured with the fleece-lined leather rope he uncoiled off his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll get him bucking good.”

  That was the problem. Sam forced a smile, hoping the evening shadows hid her apprehension. She couldn’t back down now, not after Cole had gone to all that effort to bring the beast. Besides, kids rode steers in rodeos all the time—it was considered a junior event. If some 4-H preteen could do it, Sam could, too.

  She just wouldn’t think about her father’s last bull ride in the process.

  “What do we do first?” Sam crossed her arms, hoping to keep her pounding heart from bursting through her long-sleeved T-shirt. Too bad Cole couldn’t have found a steer with shorter horns.

  Cole started toward the animal, which backed up a step. “I’ll tie the flank strap and bull rope on him, and you hop on.”

  “And then what?”

  “Hang tight.” Cole grinned, his teeth a white splash against dark stubble.

  Easy for him to say. He wasn’t about to mount a giant cow with horns. Sam took a deep breath as Cole straddled the fencing between the rail and the makeshift pen and went to work securing the flank strap. Cowboy up, as her father always said. She could do it—for him, for the farm. Winning the rodeo competition was her only immediate chance at earning enough money to buy Noble Star from Kate’s dad. Without the stallion, the farm would continue having to front as a tourist trap. Going from trail rider to bull rider would be hard enough with months of training—and Sam only had a few weeks. There was no time to waste.

  “All set.” Cole gave a final tug on the rope and sat back on the fence. The steer snorted his disapproval. “Need a leg up?”

  She ran her hands down the front of her jeans. Get on the steer, Sam. She took a steadying breath, trying to envision the finish line—Jenson Farms, back the way it used to be. “Sure.” She climbed the fence before she could change her mind, and hooked one leg over the top rail. Holding on to Cole’s arm for balance, she brought in her outside leg and eased onto the steer’s leathery back. Heavy muscles twitched under her weight.

  Sam gripped the bull rope around the steer’s neck and held tight, just as Cole advised. “Any last words of wisdom?” Her voice shook again and this time she didn’t care.

  Cole shrugged. “Don’t fall off?”

  “Thanks.” Her nervous laugh punctured the weighty silence resting on her shoulders and she rotated her neck. She could do this. It was a new adventure, one she probably would have pursued long before now if things had turned out differently for her family. No reason to be scared—as long as those horns stayed up there with the steer’s head where they belonged.

  “Ready?” Cole hopped from the fence to the dirt, patchy with mud from a recent rain, and reached over to unlatch the chute’s gate.

  Yes. No. Never. She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

  Her world exploded.

  Hooves thundered. Dirt pelted her face. Sam’s arm wrenched against the bull rope, yet her fingers refused to let go. She clung tighter with her legs and forced her eyes open. Sky, earth. Sky, earth. It was like riding a hairy, out-of-control rocking chair. How could her dad have ever done this for fun?

  The steer snorted, his horns twisting to the left and then to the right. Sam bounced hard against his thick neck. From her peripheral vision, she glimpsed Cole clapping his hands. “You’re doing great!”

  She was? Maybe she could do this after all. Her biceps screamed in protest and Sam winced as mud slung in her face. She instinctively twisted away from the dirty onslaught just as Lucy turned—in the opposite direction.

  Sam hit the ground hard, mud oozing into her ears and down the neck of her shirt. She raised her hands to protect her face, but Lucy, free of her burden, had harmlessly trotted back toward the chute.

  Sam lowered her hands, aware of a fiery ache in her quivering right arm and thighs, aware of Cole yelling for her not to get up yet, aware that had she been thrown just a few feet farther to the left, she would have landed on the paddock rails.

  But mostly, she was aware of Ethan Ames standing on the other side of the fence, his face a mixture of shock and amusement.

  Ethan wasn’t sure if he should offer his hand, laugh o
r run away. He was tempted to do all three. But the stable hand he recognized from the trail ride yesterday beat him to his first instinct, and pulled Sam out of the dirt.

  “What are you doing here?” Her wary eyes met Ethan’s as she slapped at the mud clinging to her jeans.

  Ethan braced both arms against the top rail dividing them. “The better question is why are you riding a bull?” Dirt speckled Sam’s honey-colored hair, but he wasn’t about to point that out.

  “That ain’t a bull, greenhorn.” The stable hand spit in the paddock dirt. “That’s a steer.” He held Sam out in front of him by her shoulders. “Are you okay, kid? That was some fall.”

  “I’m fine, Cole.” Sam wrestled out of his concerned grip, a dark red flush working up her neck. She met Ethan at the fence and glared. “Why are you up this late?”

  Ethan checked the Rolex on his wrist, visible by the light of the moon. “Late? It’s not even midnight.”

  Sam’s eyes snapped. “Guests aren’t supposed to be roaming the property all night long. This isn’t a country club. People could get hurt.”

  “Hurt like when they fall off a bull?”

  “It’s a steer,” Cole reminded.

  “Bull, steer, cow, whatever.” Ethan shrugged. “Why were you riding it?”

  Sam hesitated.

  “Trying to ride it, I guess I should say.” If she wouldn’t be honest, he couldn’t help teasing her a little.

  Sam’s head jerked. “You want to give it a shot, if it’s so easy?”

  Ethan laughed. “No, thanks. I value my life.”

  “I do, too.” Sam’s voice quieted and she turned to stare toward the main house. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

  Cole broke the ensuing silence. “Hey, kid, I’m gonna go put this steer up for the night.”

  “Wait, what if my mom—?” Sam’s voice broke off and her eyes widened, flickering from Ethan, to the animal, to Cole.

  Ethan frowned at the exchange. What was Sam worried about? More importantly, what was she so concerned about him knowing?

  Cole strode toward the steer, which was now attempting to pull grass through the bottom rail of the paddock. His long horns knocked against the post and Ethan shuddered. What on earth could have possessed Sam to mount such an animal—practically in the middle of the night? There were obviously secrets here—maybe ones his father would be interested in. The faster this sale went through the faster he could break out on his own and leave Ames Real Estate and development in his dust.

  “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.” Cole tipped his hat at Sam before reaching the animal. His low voice murmured softly through the night air, and the steer remained calm long enough for Cole to tug a rope around his neck and untie the one around his hind legs.

  Something was definitely not right with this picture, and it had nothing to do with a steer-whispering stable hand. Ethan turned back to Sam. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

  “It’s none of your business.” She grabbed the fence and began climbing over. Ethan sidestepped to avoid getting hit in the face with her swinging boot when she reached the top.

  “Fine. I’ll just go back to my cabin.” Ethan walked backward two steps.

  “Thank you.” Sam landed on the ground and rubbed her right shoulder, which was more than likely bruised from her fall. She’d taken quite a hit. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

  “No problem.” Ethan turned, walking faster. He decided to take one last stab in the dark—literally. “I’m sure I can find out from Mrs. Jenson in the morning what all this was about.”

  Sam’s hand snagged the back of his shirt and tugged, pulling Ethan to an abrupt halt. Bingo. He controlled his smile before turning around to meet her anxious expression.

  “You can’t ask her.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “I can’t.” Exasperation laced Sam’s tone but Ethan stood his ground. If Sam confided in him, he’d be one step closer to friendship. One step closer to getting the information his dad needed before Jeffrey sent for backup—namely, Daniel.

  The thought of Daniel weaseling his way into Sam’s life sounded so much worse than Ethan doing the same. At least Ethan had no intentions of manipulating Sam’s emotions. He just wanted to be friends, get the info his dad needed, and get back home to start his new life. Daniel, however, would prey on her emotions, attempt to mix business with pleasure and get something for himself from the deal. Ethan had to find out what Sam was up to first. His cousin had already taken enough from him, including Jeffrey’s respect.

  He didn’t want Daniel anywhere near Sam.

  He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you want your mother to know?”

  “I just don’t. Are you going to tell her?”

  “Maybe not, if you’ll do something for me.”

  Sam crossed her arms. “What do you want out of this?”

  What did he want? A gentle breeze caressed Ethan’s neck and he shivered. He wanted to leave the real estate business, wanted to get as far away from his father as he could. He wanted to find what he was really good at and make an honest living, rather than be a pawn in his father’s devious plans. He wanted independence, respect—and, watching the wind tease tendrils of hair around her dirt-streaked cheeks, what he really wanted was to kiss Sam.

  He’d settle for two out of three. “I want to learn about ranching.”

  She snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m completely serious.” Ethan straightened his shoulders, trying to imitate the way he’d seen Cole standing earlier—straight back, cocked hip, loose leg. Seeing the ranch from an insider’s perspective would provide Ethan ample opportunity to discover any issues about the property his dad hoped to find. He’d do his job, make his father happy and get out of Dodge—or, rather Appleback—of his own will, and not because he was being replaced by Daniel. And maybe he could even show Sam how to enjoy life a bit and put a smile on her face. Everyone won.

  Until your father buys Sam’s beloved ranch.

  Ethan quickly squelched the thought and held out his hand. “You teach me about horses and running a farm, and I’ll keep your secret.”

  Sam shook on their deal. “You’re rotten, you know that?”

  Yes, Ethan did. Some days, he knew it all too well. That’s why he needed to be free of his father’s influence. He tightened his grip when Sam tried to pull her hand away. “One last condition.”

  Sam raised her eyebrows. Good thing looks couldn’t actually kill. “What else could you possibly want?”

  “I want you to tell me why you were riding that bull.”

  “Fine.” She sighed.

  “Promise?” He shook her hand again so she couldn’t back out of the new condition. Weren’t handshakes as good as a signed contract back in the Wild West days? He shook it harder.

  “Promise.” She wrestled her hand free and rubbed it.

  “So why were you?” Ethan tilted his head, eager to hear what could possibly make a woman desperate enough to hop on a wild animal in the middle of the night with only the moon for a seatbelt.

  “Why was I what?” Sam smirked and Ethan’s smile slid off his face. “I promised to tell you why I was riding a bull. I never promised to tell you why I was riding a steer.” She abruptly strode toward the barn.

  Ethan ran his hands down the length of his face, once again not sure whether to laugh, go after her—or run far, far away.

  Chapter Seven

  A sudden pounding on the cabin door shook Ethan from a sound sleep. He groggily sat up in bed and moved to look out the front window. The sun was barely up—so why was he? The knocking continued.

  “Coming!” He wiped at his bleary eyes. Daniel stirred under the covers from his bed across the room but didn’t wake. Ethan threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and yanked the door open with a scowl.

  Sam stood on the front porch, hands tucked in the back pockets of her jeans, wearing a blue-and-white flowered button-down shirt that brought out her eyes. “Mornin
g, sunshine.”

  Her smile, pretty as it might be, was much too bright this early on a Monday. “What do you want?”

  “That’s no way to greet your boss.”

  “Boss?” Ethan hit his ear with the palm of his hand, certain he’d heard wrong. His boss was his father, and Jeffrey Ames was thankfully nowhere in sight. What was Sam talking about?

  “Well, maybe not boss, technically, because you’re not getting paid.” Sam smirked. “But you are here to learn, so you’re sort of like my apprentice—which means I’m in charge. Which means you need to get ready. We’re behind schedule.”

  “Impossible. The sun just came up.” Birds chirped from a nearby tree, and Ethan felt like throwing his pillow at them. He never fully woke up until consuming a massive amount of coffee—preferably Guatemalan dark roast, but he’d made do yesterday at the main house with the generic brand. Looked like he’d have to do it again.

  Talk about living off the land.

  “Ranchers get up before the sun, partner. Welcome to farm work.” Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Of course, if you’d rather back out of our agreement…”

  Agreements. Steers. Secrets. The previous night rushed at Ethan like a sports car on the autobahn and he groaned. No wonder he felt so exhausted. He’d gone back to bed after his midnight bargain with Sam, but had lain awake for at least another hour reliving his sudden rash of good luck. It was the perfect setup for getting his father off his back and putting his plan for future freedom into action. “You’re not getting out of it. I’ll be ready in two minutes.” He closed the cabin door, leaving Sam to sulk on the porch. He refused to let her out of their deal—not when there was so much to lose.

  Daniel sat up as Ethan flicked on the lamp and pulled a pair of socks from his dresser drawer. “What’s going on, man? Breakfast isn’t for another hour or more.”

  Ethan hesitated, hopping on one leg as he tugged his sock over his foot. He hated to tell Daniel the details of his arrangement, but Jeffrey would tell him eventually anyway. Besides, Daniel didn’t have to know Ethan’s true motivation for getting close to Sam—just the same reason that Jeffrey would hear. “I have a meeting with Sam.” Hopefully that sounded vague enough to hide his growing feelings for her.