The Bull Rider's Valentine. Cathy McDavid
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“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Ronnie cooed.
Nate’s anger faded. Ronnie had once doted on Breeze almost as much as he did.
“Sure. Of course.” Sam’s gaze cut to Nate. “I will. Thanks.” She disconnected. “Frankie says you and she can talk about it when you get there.”
“Great.” Not a yes exactly. Then again, not a no. With limited options, he decided he’d agree to whatever terms Frankie named, within reason.
Ronnie huffed in disgust.
“I could ride back with you,” Sam suggested. “Save Ronnie from having to drive me.”
“Sure.”
“Can we take Big John, too? Since I won’t be riding him at Kingman this weekend, might as well take him home.” The last part included a not-so-subtle jab directed at Ronnie.
“Let’s load up, then. It’s getting close to dinnertime. I don’t want to interfere with Frankie’s schedule.”
Ronnie hopped down from the running board. “What about practice tomorrow?” Her voice was strained, but civil.
“I’m taking the twins to preschool, and then helping Mel until two. She needs some lab tests dropped off at FedEx.”
Nate’s mom had mentioned something about Sam working for her sisters in exchange for room and board and Big John’s vet care. Again, he reflected on how lucky the teenager was to have such a willing and welcoming biological family, bickering with Ronnie aside.
“There are only a few days left before we leave,” Ronnie said. “You can’t afford to miss any practice.”
“I get it.” Sam’s tone was sharp. “I’ll be here. Two thirty.”
“All right.” Ronnie started to leave, then paused to look at Nate. “Both of you, I’m assuming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He slung a brotherly arm around Sam’s shoulders, hoping to incite a rise from Ronnie.
He got it. She sucked in a harsh breath before pivoting on her heel.
Sam watched her go. “She can be pretty uptight sometimes.”
“She always was.”
“I’m assuming you were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” He hadn’t planned on admitting even that much. “How’d you guess?”
“It’s kind of obvious.”
“Hmm. Apparently, I need to try harder.”
“When did you two date?”
“Six years ago.”
“What happened?”
“We drifted apart.” What else was there to say when he had no clue what had prompted Ronnie to pack up and leave with no warning? She’d obviously fallen out of love and fast.
“She doesn’t date,” Sam said. “Not since I’ve been here, anyway.”
“She’s busy. Running a barrel racing school takes a lot of time.”
“Guys ask her. I’ve overheard ’em. And Mel and Frankie are always telling her she needs to get out more.”
Nate believed it. Mustang Valley was nothing if not a cowboy town. In addition to the various horse ranches, there were five sizable cattle ranches in the area and as many more within a thirty-mile radius. A gal as pretty as Ronnie must have her pick of men.
“She’s always telling them no.” Sam followed him to the front compartment where he secured a latch.
“I really don’t care about her social life.”
“But don’t you think it’s strange? I’ve only been living here since the summer, and I’ve gone out with two different guys.”
He paused and gave her a serious look. “Anybody I have to beat up for getting out of line?”
“Will you quit it?” She groaned.
“Come on, we need to hit the road. Where’s Big John?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Not long after that, Big John had been loaded beside Breeze, who’d readily accepted her new traveling companion. Nate carefully navigated the long, winding road from Powell Ranch down the mountainside. Sam sat beside him, chatting up a storm and pointing out some of the local sights. He’d been to Mustang Valley twice before, back in the days when he and Ronnie were together. A lot had changed, however, and he appreciated the update.
Frankie’s house was in one of the new subdivisions on the other side of the valley and, according to Sam, had a mini barn and horse setup. She directed Nate down a side access road where Frankie waited by an open RV gate. She motioned for him to enter and park his trailer in a spot that butted up beside the covered horse stalls.
He took his time, being extra careful not to hit anything. At last satisfied with the trailer’s position, he shut off the engine and exited the cab. Sam did the same. Later, after he and Frankie had a chance to talk, he’d unhitch the truck from his trailer and park it on the street.
“Hi, Frankie.” He considered giving her a hug when she met up with him in front of his truck. At the last second, he reconsidered and reached out his hand. “I really appreciate this.”
She returned his handshake with genuine warmth. “I wish it could be longer, but I can only let you stay until Monday.”
Sam had left that part out. Well, no matter. It was enough he had a place for the next four days.
“Did Sam tell you, I insist on paying rent?”
“She did, and I won’t hear of it. You can help with chores and maybe some repairs.”
“Anything you need.”
The teenager scurried about, unloading Big John first and taking him to his stall.
“In the meantime,” Frankie said, “you’ll find a garden hose and heavy-duty electrical cord in the tack room. It’s unlocked. There’s an outlet over there.” She pointed to the side of the small barn. “And the closest water spigot is by the corral.”
Nate tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“When you’ve finished, come knock on the door. I’ve got supper in the oven, and you can meet my daughters. Spence, too, if he gets home in time.”
“I don’t expect you to feed me.” Though Nate wouldn’t mind. His lunch had consisted of a stale leftover doughnut.
She ignored his protest. “And while we’re eating,