Her Montana Cowboy. Valerie Hansen

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Her Montana Cowboy - Valerie  Hansen

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Jasper Gulch Bobcat Band as it marched by. Those kids might not have fancy, matching uniforms, but they were all dressed in their best Western wear, as was she, and their enthusiasm was contagious.

      Following the float bearing Miss Jasper Gulch came a mounted group of rodeo participants, led by the clowns, who much preferred to be referred to as bullfighters. Of all the events scheduled for the six-month-long celebration, it was the rodeo Julie loved best.

      Her sister, Faith, elbowed her in the ribs. “Hey, look.”

      “I know. I’m looking.” Julie blushed and fanned herself with her straw Stetson to exaggerate her reaction. “Wow!”

      “And you said there were no handsome men in Jasper Gulch.”

      “Not exactly. What I said was, there’s nobody around here I’d consider marrying, no matter what Dad wants.”

      “It’s the same thing.”

      Julie shook her head. “No, it isn’t.” She would have continued to spar with her older sister if her attention had not become focused on one passing cowboy in particular.

      She couldn’t decide what it was about the man that had caught and was holding her attention. It had simply happened. There was something so special, so compelling about him she could not tear her gaze away.

      He sat comfortably in the saddle with his hat pulled low enough to shade his dark eyes. Fringes of dark hair were visible at his nape, leaving the rest of his hair to her imagination.

      It would be thick and wavy, she told herself. And it would feel—

      Another poke in the ribs startled Julie. She jumped.

      “Whoa,” Faith said, giggling. “Earth to Julie. Where was your mind just now?”

      “I’m not telling.” The warmth of her flushed cheeks did the talking for her and caused her sister to laugh louder. Julie tried to quiet her. “Shh. You’re making a scene.”

      “Not me, baby sister. You should see your face. It’s almost as red as your hair.”

      “We have auburn hair, not red,” Julie countered. “I just wish I didn’t blush so easily.”

      “Comes with our blue eyes,” Faith told her. “That, and freckles, which I could do without.”

      “Don’t be silly. You have beautiful skin.”

      “Speaking of beautiful, take a gander at the barrel racer your cowboy is riding with.”

      “He’s not with…” She’d been going to finish with “anybody,” until she looked back at the procession. The good-looking rodeo rider who had caught her eye did seem to be in the company of another woman. Not only that, the horses they were riding sported similar tack. They certainly looked as though they were a couple.

      Nevertheless, Julie shaded her eyes with one hand and boldly studied the man. She hadn’t met nearly all the rodeo contestants because many had arrived in Jasper Gulch very recently. Their normal schedule would have had them competing here for two or three days, then packing up and moving on to the next PRCA—Professional Rodeo Cowboys’ Association—sanctioned rodeo. There were plenty to choose from and she was doubly thankful that so many talented contestants had opted to honor her town with their presence.

      Not only that, some had agreed to remain or return for a second and third weekend. It didn’t hurt that the invitational events included some of the biggest names in rodeo, plus monetary grand prizes and serious day money for the top qualifiers. That kind of reward was definitely worth vying for.

      The muted clip-clop of hooves on the wide main street sounded soothing. If Julie had not been so keyed up, she might have been able to relax and enjoy the rest of the parade more. The sights were certainly pleasant enough—particularly one of them.

      Suddenly deciding what to do next, she clapped her hat back on her head, turned away and started into the crowd lining the curb.

      Faith grabbed her arm. “Hey! Where are you going? The parade’s not over.”

      Exactly where was she going? Julie hesitated, her mouth slightly open. “I just…”

      Her sister hooted as she let go. “You’re going to move up so you can watch those attractive guys ride by again, aren’t you?”

      “Of course not.” That was true if she took the question literally. It was not guys, plural, she wanted to study more. It was just one of them.

      Yes, it was crazy, she admitted to herself. And yes, it was a tad embarrassing. At least it would have been if she’d imagined for a second that the rider had even noticed her. Cloaked in anonymity, she had no qualms about watching him pass a second time. And maybe a third.

      Julie shook her head, slightly disgusted with herself for even contemplating changing her position along the parade route. That didn’t stop her, though.

      She approached the corner of Main Street and Shaw Boulevard, the street named after her ancestors. Here, the marchers would turn south toward the fairgrounds and rodeo arena. This would be a perfect place to wait and watch.

      It occurred to her to wonder if she would even recognize the handsome cowboy again. In an instant, she had her answer. There was no way she’d ever forget him. It was as if his image had been permanently imprinted on her mind.

      “I am certifiably unbalanced,” she murmured. “If Dad heard what I’m doing, he’d blow a gasket.” Knowing that her father fully intended to choose her boyfriends, or at least vet them, she smiled. Wouldn’t it be funny if she showed up at the picnic later on the arm of a rodeo rider?

      Oh, yeah, like that’s going to happen, she told herself wryly. Still, she began to work her way through the mass of bystanders lining the streets bordering the old bank building that housed city hall and the chamber of commerce. All she had to do was get close enough to peek over the heads of some children and teens standing at the very front. Being taller than Faith by a few inches had helped her see well before. This time, she aimed to put herself in an even better position.

      Smiling and being as polite as possible, Julie said, “Excuse me? Please?” then “Thank you” as she wormed her way forward.

      She reached her goal and looked up just as the group of riders began to arrive, found the man she was searching for and stared directly at him, never dreaming he’d pay any mind to her unjustifiable interest.

      Her sharp intake of breath sounded a lot like a gasp. Her jaw dropped. The cowboy’s glittering brown eyes were boldly meeting hers. She was captured as fully as if he’d dropped a lasso around her and pulled the loop tight to reel her in.

      He inclined his head, touched the brim of his hat politely, smiled—and winked. At least she thought he did.

      No, that wasn’t entirely true. She dearly hoped he’d winked on purpose. At her.

      * * *

      Ryan Travers was used to encountering rodeo groupies and had learned that the best ways to discourage them were to either face the problem boldly and announce that he wasn’t interested, or to avoid them entirely. In the case of this pretty admirer, he decided to adopt a wait-and-see attitude.

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