couldn’t see Savannah, but maybe that was a good thing. What were the chances she was single anyway? She was nice, beautiful, talented and from a well-to-do family. That seemed like a recipe for having guys lined up around the corner.
“What can I get for you?”
Travis jerked his attention back to the woman working the concession stand window. He needed to forget about Savannah Baron now the same way he had when he’d been a hormonal teenager fumbling every attempt to tell her how he felt.
But as he carried the food and drinks back to the grandstand, he began to realize forgetting the second time might not be any easier than it had been the first. Savannah Baron wasn’t the type of woman you forgot easily.
* * *
“SO, I THINK you need to hunt down Travis after your ride and ask him out,” Abby said as she and Savannah prepped Rosie and Bluebell for their rides.
“That will not be happening.”
“Why not? He’s hot.”
That he was. “Be that as it may, I wouldn’t feel right about it.”
“Why the heck not? If you’re too shy to do it, I can ask for you.”
Savannah propped her hand on her hip. “What is this, third grade?”
“Pretty sure those kind of sparks don’t fly in third grade.”
“There were no sparks.”
“Oh, yeah, there were definite sparks. I’m somewhat of an expert on the subject.”
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Just because you date a lot doesn’t make you an expert on everyone else’s love life.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve known you long enough to know that you were interested.”
Savannah laughed. “Earlier you were convinced I was head over heels for Cannon.”
“There’s a difference between appreciation and interest.”
Savannah laid her palm against Bluebell’s neck and stroked the animal. “It wouldn’t feel right. Travis lost his wife a few years ago. She was shot in a convenience store holdup.”
The teasing fell away from Abby’s face. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, and he wasn’t even here. He was stationed overseas with the army. I can’t imagine how horrible it was for him.”
Abby glanced toward the crowd watching the tie-down roping as if she could spot Travis among them. “So maybe he could use another friend?”
Though Abby wasn’t being callous, Savannah should have known her friend wouldn’t give up so easily.
“I’m sure he has friends.” Before Abby could say anything else, Savannah pulled herself up into the saddle and guided Bluebell away. If she had any hope of making a good ride, Savannah needed a few minutes to clear her head of thoughts of Travis, the tragedy he’d lived through and the unwise attraction she’d felt toward him.
By the time the barrel racing began, she’d managed to partially clear her head. But she couldn’t help a glance at the grandstand, wondering if Travis was sitting among the crowd.
She forced her focus back to the competitors ahead of her. For the next several minutes, she needed nothing else to matter beyond working with Bluebell to make a good, safe ride.
Two spots ahead of her, Abby prepared for her run. Savannah held Bluebell steady as Abby sped into the arena, guiding Rosie expertly around the barrels, shaving precious microseconds off her time. Cheers rang out from the grandstands for Abby, a crowd favorite. As she rounded the last barrel, Abby urged Rosie toward the finish. It struck Savannah that Abby’s and Rosie’s expressions of determination weren’t all that different. They worked as one seamless unit all the way through and beyond the finish line.
Savannah scratched Bluebell between the ears and leaned forward. “Almost time, girl. Let’s show Abby and Rosie we can still give them a run for their money.”
As Tanya Gonzales made her ride, Savannah took several slow, calming breaths. When Tanya cut the last corner too close and knocked over the barrel, Savannah did her best to push that negative image out of her mind.
When Tanya finished her run and the overturned barrel was righted, Savannah took one last, fortifying breath then kicked Bluebell into a gallop. The horse responded immediately, knowing exactly what to do.
They flew around the first two barrels as if Bluebell had wings and her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Sensing a good time, one to rival Abby’s, Savannah urged Bluebell to fly even faster. The dirt of the arena, the white fencing, the crowd beyond—it was all a blur as they raced the clock.
Excitement surged through Savannah’s veins. This had always been when she felt most free, most in control of her life, as if she was astride Pegasus and letting the world fall away below her.
They rounded the final barrel, and the image of Tanya knocking over the barrel shot to the front of Savannah’s thoughts. Before she could prevent it, she stiffened, throwing off the delicate balance between Bluebell and herself.
Savannah gasped as she felt one of Bluebell’s feet slip on the loose dirt. In the next moment, she tipped sideways. It all happened so fast, she was helpless to catch herself. One moment she was having a fantastic ride. In the next, she toppled sideways, hitting the barrel with her ribs. She tried in vain to extricate herself, but she ended up on the ground, her leg pinned beneath Bluebell’s heaving body.
Pain shot through Savannah’s left side, causing tears to well in her eyes. Before she could catch her breath, she was surrounded by cowboys and Jonesy, the bullfighter.
“Hang on,” Jonesy said.
She still fought to take a deep breath as the guys pulled her free of Bluebell. Thankfully, the horse got to her feet.
“Is she okay?” It hurt to speak, but she had to know if Bluebell was injured.
“She looks fine,” said Logan Bradshaw, one of the newer pickup guys. “But we’ll get her checked.”
She blinked a few times against fuzzy vision, and then a paramedic was there checking her for broken bones and signs of concussion.
“I didn’t hit my head,” she managed to say. “But my side hurts like the devil.”
The cowboys made a circle around her as the paramedic pulled up the side of her shirt and examined her ribs. “I don’t see any obvious breaks, but you need to get an X-ray. And you’ll have some nasty bruising.”
Please just let it be a bruise. She hated the idea of having broken ribs, especially with her dad already at the ranch nursing his own rodeo injuries.
After the paramedic was satisfied it was safe to move her, Jonesy and one of the tie-down ropers helped her to her feet.
Jonesy plunked her hat back on her head. “I can think of better ways to get a bunch of guys’ attention.”
She laughed
