Snake Oil Willie!”
Vic retrieved his duffel and stuffed his gear inside. He swung the bag over his shoulder and headed to the nearest concession stand to buy a corn dog for the road. He had two and a half hours before his next ride in Red Lodge.
“Victor.”
Tanya. He stopped walking and waited until she caught up with him.
“Great ride.”
He nodded, tongue-tied. Why did the spitfire barrel racer shove him off balance with just a smile?
“I wanted to thank you again for changing the flat on my trailer,” she said. “Couldn’t have been an easy feat in that downpour.”
“Glad to help.” He rubbed the ache in his left shoulder. He’d clipped it coming out of the chute.
She shuffled her black boots, then zeroed in on his face. Maybe it was the glare from the sun, but her eyes appeared bluer than he’d remembered.
“Did you compete today?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m giving Slingshot a rest, hoping it will improve his disposition.”
Vic grinned before he remembered the action stretched the scar across his face, twisting the puckered flesh. “Slingshot is a handful.”
“I’m well aware everyone believes my horse would be put to better use making glue.”
Vic quirked an eyebrow.
“But I’m not giving up on him.”
He understood how difficult it was to throw in the towel and admit defeat. He’d been hauling around twelve years of I-don’t-give-up on his back. Tanya didn’t appear in a hurry, but he was at a loss for something to say. He wasn’t used to talking to women he respected. He only had experience with ladies after a good time and a quick goodbye.
“I came up here to look at a stud horse with my stepfather and we stopped to take in the rodeo.” She waved a hand toward the parking lot. “Where are you headed next?”
“Red Lodge and then later tonight, Livingston.”
She gaped at him. “You’re riding in three events today?”
He opened his mouth to ask when she planned to compete again, but she cut him off.
“Damn.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I was hoping to avoid him today.”
Vic followed her gaze—Beau Billings. “I’m hungry for a corn dog. Want to come with me?”
“Sure. Thanks.” Her smile flashed brighter than the hot sun and suddenly Vic’s Wranglers felt tight in the crotch. If he survived the craziness of the first week of July, he’d think about getting laid. Right now rodeo came before pleasure.
After they joined the line at the concession stand, Tanya said, “I wish he’d quit pestering me.”
“What’s your ex doing to bother you?”
She wiped the perspiration off her brow, drawing Vic’s attention to the smattering of freckles across her nose. She appeared younger than the twenty-six years listed in the rodeo program by her name. “He tells me every chance he gets that my horse is stupid.”
Vic chuckled and then sobered when she jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “Sorry.”
“It’s been three years since I divorced Beau and he still acts like he has a claim on me.”
He didn’t know the details of her and Billings’s breakup—only that she’d caught the jerk cheating. He wasn’t sure if she’d walked away from barrel racing because of the divorce or the broken leg she’d suffered in a car accident a few years ago. And he sure as heck didn’t know why she’d returned to the circuit on a stubborn horse like Slingshot. That Vic was interested in her situation at all surprised him even more.
“You’d think he’d have his hands full trying to please his harem of buckle bunnies that he wouldn’t have time to pester me.” She rolled her eyes. “The poor stupid women can’t see past his handsome face and sexy voice.”
That was one thing Vic didn’t have to worry about—misleading the ladies. His voice wasn’t sexy and neither were his looks.
They were next in line to order—both asked for a corn dog and soda and they shared a large order of fries. Tanya insisted on paying—to thank him for his roadside assistance. They returned to the stands to eat.
She sipped her cola, then asked, “What about you, Victor? Any ex-girlfriends or wives giving you grief?”
Was Tanya making polite conversation or did she really want to know if he was involved with another woman? “No exes or girlfriends.” Just him. Alone.
“So the rumors are true,” she said.
“What rumors?”
“That you’re a loner.” She snatched the fry out of his fingers. “When Beau and I traveled the circuit together, the only competitor he ever obsessed over was you. You got under his skin.”
“I barely know the guy.”
“Doesn’t matter. You bother Beau because he can’t figure out what you’re thinking.”
Half the time Vic didn’t know what he was thinking.
“You scare him and it’s not because of the scar on your face.” Her casual mention of his disfigurement took Vic by surprise. “Sure, the scar makes you appear intimidating and unapproachable, but there’s more to it than that.”
Really?
“Beau knows he doesn’t have your natural ability.”
Vic swallowed the last bite of his corn dog. “It’s not talent, it’s hard work.”
“Whatever you want to call it. Beau doesn’t have your smarts.”
Damn, Tanya was good for his ego.
“A lot of cowboys study the way you ride, but none of them, including Beau, has ever picked up on the way you hold the buck rein.” She smiled. “But I did.”
Learning that his competition paid close attention to his performances was unnerving. He’d rather believe the cowboys were just watching to see if he’d fall on his head. “What about the buck rein?”
“Most of the guys prefer a thicker, tightly braided rein and a full handgrip. But your buck rein is loosely braided and you hold it between your third and fourth fingers.”
“You’re very observant.”
“I know.” Her eyes sparkled. “I also noticed that you feed extra rein to the horse when his head drops too low.”
“Everybody has their own
