Chapter Two #2
“Where do you buy the equipment?” Taryn asked Nix.
“The Tongue and Bit carries tack. That’s the local saddlery,” he said. If he was humoring her sister, nothing about his slow, friendly smile gave him away.
That friendly smile, directed at Shauna’s super-cute but underage sister, twitched her lawyerly suspicions, and all of a sudden, she wasn’t as charmed.
The crowd of boys had whittled down to forty or fifty.
She and Taryn were now the only females in the gymnasium, and the hot cowboy wasn’t smiling at her.
Her ego wasn’t huge—she wasn’t curvy and blonde, and she was wearing a bland business suit, not a tight, trendy knit dress—but it was as if she didn’t exist. She had to hustle Taryn out, but without embarrassing her in front of her new peers.
She coolly ignored the man and the boy behind the table and spoke quietly to her sister. “Are you ready to go? Aunt Freda is waiting for us.”
Taryn, however, refused to be rushed. “In a minute.”
“You must be Taryn’s mom,” the boy said to Shauna. He leaned across the table to shake hands. “Remi Forrest. No need to worry about her.” He smiled at Taryn, who smiled back. “I’ll make sure she gets to the right classrooms next week.”
Shauna’s jaw tightened. She didn’t bother to correct his assumption that she was Taryn’s mother, although she felt a whole lot less sorry for him, and a whole lot sorrier for herself.
Only three months until Christmas.
She could do this.
*
Nix
No way was this woman the flirty little blonde’s mom.
That they were close relations, however, went without saying, despite the differences in coloring and height. They had the same facial features, and they moved the same way—the tilt of the head. The bend of the arms… Sisters. Maybe cousins.
Nope, sisters.
Nix had noticed the gorgeous brunette the moment she walked through the double gymnasium doors.
He’d noticed the long legs, the business attire that didn’t hide a narrow waist and great breasts, the high cheekbones.
He’d noticed the confidence in her walk, the way she held her spine straight and her chin up.
He’d noticed the way she’d looked at him—checking him out.
He’d especially noticed the exact moment she’d dismissed him as unworthy of her. Which he probably was, but there was no need for Ms. Too Good for a Cowboy to be so obvious about it. No need to crush him.
The way perky little blonde Trouble, here, was going to crush Remi. According to the signup sheet, her name was Taryn Morris. She was the type of girl who liked flirting with danger, and she’d stumbled across the baddest boy in school on her very first day.
Bad boy Remi had just met his match. Most life lessons were learned the hard way, however, especially the ones about women—as Nix could attest—and he’d let Remi learn his.
Besides, he felt somewhat sorry for Trouble.
That she was new in town was obvious by the way she was dressed.
And that she was going to be a big hit with the boys in Grand was a no-brainer if he read the room right.
But the local girls were unlikely to view her arrival with as much favor.
He didn’t feel sorry enough for her to want her in one of his clinics, however.
That didn’t spell Trouble—that spelled Disaster.
“Are there many women bull riders?” Trouble asked, her innocent query not fooling him for a second. Signing up for the bull riding clinic was her way of winding up Ms. Too Good, who looked wound too tight already.
Since Trouble was highly unlikely to get anyone’s permission to ride, especially if Too Good had any sway, Nix didn’t mind plucking at Too Good’s gonads a bit too.
“There are,” he said. “They have their own professional bull riding association—the WPbr. As a Texan, I’m partial to Catalina Langlitz and Katie Moore. Those girls got game.”
He greatly admired women who rode. Their sport was finally beginning to grow.
There’d been complaints, mostly because the bulls women rode weren’t of the same caliber as men’s, but from a spectator perspective, the differences were too slight to matter.
The women’s sport drew large crowds because it was equally exciting to watch.
Too Good raised a professionally groomed brow. Her expression stopped a hair short of a sneer. She was too well-bred for that. “Didn’t Catalina Langlitz get stepped on by a bull and almost die?”
Nix wasn’t fazed—much—by her question. “She still competes. Women who ride professionally face the same risks as men. They know and accept them.”
Too Good’s other eyebrow shot up to join its twin. “Do they make the same money for facing those same risks?”
Nix’s eyes narrowed. One of those women, was she? The type who expected men to change the world overnight because she’d decided how it should be? He’d been married to a woman like that, but not anymore.
“There’s strength in numbers, ma’am,” he replied.
“The more women who participate in male-dominated sports, the more seriously they’re going to be taken.
Take US women’s soccer, for example. They’ve come a long way, and they should be proud of what they’ve accomplished.
Same goes for bull riders. Any girl who wants to sign up for the clinic is welcome to do so.
We might not get enough interest to form a separate team for them yet, but you can bet they’ll receive the same training as the boys. ”
The room had gone quiet. The boys were listening to them with interest and the odd smirk or two. Color flushed Too Good’s cheeks. Trouble looked far too smug over her big sister’s discomfort. Now Nix was embarrassed. He’d taken out his issues with overbearing women on one he didn’t know.
And that, gentlemen, was a lesson in how not to speak to the ladies if you want to impress them.
Good thing he had no burning desire to impress Too Good, no matter how pretty she was or how long her legs were.
“Thank you for the edification,” Too Good said.
His embarrassment diminished in proportion to the poke at his pride. Now she was putting him in his place by using words she didn’t think he’d understand, was she?
“Any time you want more education , feel free to drop by the Endeavour. I’d be happy to teach you to ride,” he replied.
“What kind of riding are we talking about?” someone called out, and the crowd of teenaged boys burst into laughter.
Nix re-ran what he’d said and realized too late where he went wrong.
Thankfully, Too Good proved to have a better handle on teenaged boys who’d grown up around cattle than one might expect.
The pink in her cheeks deepened, but her lips curved.
Direct hazel eyes fixed on his face, and she smothered a smile.
“Thank you. I’ll keep your offer in mind, Mister…
” She picked up one of the information packets the Endeavour had put together.
It had his name emblazoned across the top, proclaiming him one of the top bull riding instructors in the country, which was a stretch.
“…Nixon McCray. It sounds… enlightening .”
Now his face was red, too. Did she have to be so damned smart-mouthed as well as pretty?
Trouble, bless her heart, swooped in to save him.
“It was nice meeting you.” She shook hands with Nix first, then Remi, who’d had the good sense to keep his mouth shut while Nix ran his off. She smiled sweetly at them and patted her purse. “Thanks for the information on bull riding. I’ve only been here a few days, and I love Montana already.”
Only once before had Nix been this happy to see the tail end of a woman as she walked away.
An hour later, once the sign-ups wrapped up, he and Remi were in the truck and headed for home.
The Tongue and Yellowstone rivers joined up on the outskirts of Grand. The road to the ranch followed the Tongue. Scattered groves of cottonwood trees littered its banks. The flagging sun peered through branches and leaves, dropping glittering petals of light on slow-swirling eddies of water.
“Way to impress the boss man’s family,” Remi said.
Ice slicked Nix’s spine. Three friends owned the Endeavour Ranch, although Ryan seemed to be the one in charge, at least as far as he’d been able to tell. “Which boss man?”
“The sheriff. They’re his cousins,” Remi added. “The older one is Shauna Walsh. She’s a lawyer.” Big surprise, there. “Taryn’s her younger sister. She’s living with Shauna until she finds her own place.”
Nix digested that information. The good news was that they weren’t Ryan’s family.
The better news was that Too Good would never give Trouble permission to attend the clinic.
She was the only girl to sign up, and Nix thanked God for small favors.
While he was happy enough to see women ride, he had zero desire to be responsible for the safety of thirty boys showing off for one teenaged girl.
He eyeballed Remi sideways. “Seems you’ve been busy.”
Remi locked his hands behind his head, stretched his legs under the dash, and leaned back in his seat with a self-satisfied air. “I do my homework.”
“That’s not what your teachers say.”
The boy shrugged. “I do my homework when it’s important.”
Nix again debated whether he should issue a warning or not, then decided circumstances had changed enough that some sort of warning was needed.
Remi shouldn’t mess around with Dan McKillop’s young cousin.
If he found himself bounced from the Endeavour’s private group home, he’d end up in the public system, and it wouldn’t be as forgiving.
“You don’t think you’ve already had your fair share of run-ins with the law? You’re too pretty for juvie,” he added, not really joking.
Remi cut to the chase. “You saying the sheriff’s cousin is too good for me?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Nix said. It was easier than explaining how complicated women could be.
Remi shrugged again. He closed his eyes. “You’re probably right.”
Why did Nix get the impression that Remi didn’t care if he was?
He focused on the road. The empty truck bed bounced happily behind them, jarring the brake under his boot whenever he touched the clutch.
This wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself, gripping tight to the wheel.
Whatever hot water Remi got himself into outside of the clinic was none of his business.
As for Too Good for a Cowboy? She could take care of Trouble.