she was a woman, in spite of her childlike size.
In the back of his pickup, he pulled his boots off and stretched out on the empty bedroll next to his buddy. Ignoring the snores, he folded his arms behind his head and studied the star-studded black sky. The night air held a definite chill he hoped would cool the flames licking at him. He needed to get his mind back on the business of rodeo. He’d never been responsible for anyone but himself. He’d be crazy to get involved with anything other than winning those buckles and saving his family’s ranch, the Triple B—especially a woman.
Hell’s bells, he thought with a sigh and a silent chuckle. What would the minibundle of trouble bring next?
The sound of pounding and a cowbell ringing jerked Ellie to a sitting position. With luck, she narrowly missed hitting her head on the low ceiling of the over-the-cab bed.
“What in tarnation is that awful racket?” joined the clanging of the bell.
A smile twisted Ellie’s mouth at the sound of the female voice announcing the identity of her visitor. “Hang on a sec, Reba.”
The noise ceased as she scrambled from her loft. She reached the door and opened it to offer an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
A head of garish red hair preceded the plump, middle-aged woman into the camper. Her suspicious gaze landed on Ellie. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“It’s a long story.”
Shoving back the too-long sleeves of the pajamas she’d snitched from one of her brothers, Ellie tried to decide the best way to explain the bell without going into details. Until she could wake up completely and come to terms with what had happened last night and her ridiculous reaction to the cowboy, she didn’t want to say too much.
Reba Tucker, kindhearted soul that she was, wouldn’t take the news of the snake lightly. The woman had traveled the rodeo circuit with her steer-roper husband for too many years to let the incident slide by with nothing more than a comment or two. No, Reba would make a big fuss over it, and Ellie didn’t want to deal with a hysterical mother hen.
And she didn’t want to mention Chace Brannigan. That’s all Reba would need to set her off on her favorite topic: Cowboys Make Great Husbands. Nate Tucker might be among the best of spouses, but Ellie didn’t want a man who had Wrangler across his butt, or Justin’s on his feet and a Stetson on his head. She didn’t particularly want any man. She’d never needed one yet.
Dragging her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair, Ellie sighed. “I noticed the lock on my door isn’t working right. Until I can have it checked out, the cowbell is a great alarm.”
Reba crossed her arms on her ample chest and leaned one hip against the counter. “That’s it? Dang, girl, all you had to do was say somethin’ to Nate. He’d have skedaddled as fast as a rabbit with a hound dog on his tail to the nearest hardware store and had you snugged up like a baby in a blanket in no time.”
With a grateful smile, Ellie steered the conversation away from her jerry-rigged alarm system. “Is Nate riding in Phoenix?”
Reba nodded. “We’re planning to stop at Laura’s for a day to see my new grandbaby. You gonna compete after the cutoff date for Finals?”
“I may stop at the ranch. I can get some practice in there. And it may be the last time I get to see the place.”
Reba’s mouth settled into a frown. “It’s your home, girl. Yours and your brothers. You aren’t still plannin’ to sell it, are you?”
But it hadn’t been her home since she’d left it six years ago, when Matt turned eighteen, to travel the rodeo circuit. She had only returned when it was absolutely necessary, avoiding the memories she had trouble dealing with. She refused to let the ranch take her brothers’ lives as it had their parents’. Once it was sold, maybe she could finally escape the past.
Gripping the edge of the counter with one hand, she gathered her determination. “I’m selling. There won’t be any more working themselves into an early grave.”
Reba placed her hand on Ellie’s. “That was a freak accident that took your folks. That sorta thing don’t happen—”
“Ranching is a back-breaking, money-sucking way of life.” Ellie pulled away as gently as possible and shoved aside the painful memory of her parents. She couldn’t bear to think about the accident except to remind her that she had to make sure nothing like it would ever happen to the boys.
“They’re adults, Ellie. Let them make their own decisions.”
“I know that. I finished raising them after the folks—” Ellie stopped and took a deep breath. “I know the dangers of ranching. I can’t let anything happen to them. Especially after Matt broke his collarbone last year. It could’ve been worse. Much worse.”
“You weren’t even lookin’ to sell the place,” Reba pointed out as she’d done several times.
Ellie sighed and looked away. It was turning into the same old tiresome argument. Reba couldn’t see the dangers she did. There were too many things that could happen to her brothers on the ranch. And too many memories for her. Next, Reba would ask what she planned to do. Other than move to the city, she didn’t have an answer. Getting the boys off the ranch came first. After that, she’d worry about how to support herself. If she could qualify for National Finals, she might make enough money to see her way clear. For a while.
“I guess I’d better get the trailer hooked up,” she said without looking at her friend. “It’s past time to get on the road.”
“Nate’s probably wonderin’ where I’ve got off to,” Reba said, letting the subject drop, and turned for the door. “You take care until Phoenix. We’ll see you there.”
“You bet.”
When Reba had gone, Ellie opened the closet door to reach for a towel. Catching her reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door, she stared at the image looking back at her and grimaced.
“No wonder Chace Brannigan was gawking at you last night,” she announced to the rumpled figure before her. Turning sideways, she grabbed at the back of the excess pajama fabric to pull it tight across her body and scrutinized the effect.
With a disgusted grunt, she released the material. What did she care if she didn’t have the kind of curves men panted over?
She quickly changed into her clothes from the night before and grabbed a clean set, ready to hit the showers and eager to get on the road. But when she pushed open the camper door, the first thing she saw was the cowboy who’d rescued her the night before. He was obviously headed for the showers, a towel draped around his neck.
When he didn’t look her way, she breathed a sigh of relief and ducked into the camper. Ignoring the clippity-clop of her heart, she waited until she felt safe to leave.
She wasn’t interested in a cowboy, couldn’t be, even if he was the current leading saddle bronc rider in the country and sexy as sin, to boot. She knew all about his kind. She’d met too many “my way or no way” cowboys. Hadn’t she proven she could do it alone? Besides, rodeoers ended up on ranches. She wanted desperately to leave the past and that kind of life behind. Nothing would stop her. And she didn’t need anyone’s help. The sooner she got on the road, the sooner
