Chapter Twelve
Nix
H erding cattle with four-wheelers wasn’t as fun as it sounded. Nix would get them headed where they needed to go, then a few would lose interest or their sense of direction and head into the trees.
Dodging rock, tangled scrub, and lodgepole, and getting mired in the mud while chasing them down made the day drag on forever.
He leaned into the shovel for the third time that day.
The mud was thick as half-dried cement. He was wet and cold and in a bad mood.
Falls were short in Montana and winter was sending out feelers.
If he wasn’t so mad about the cell phone Shauna bought him, he might have gone after her to sort out what he suspected was a slight misunderstanding. Maybe more than a slight one.
The bigger issue for him was the damned phone, however.
Shauna outclassed him. That he could live with. But she outearned him too, and that stung his pride. She’d handed him the phone as if it was nothing to her. As if he was on call, on demand, and at her convenience. Bought and paid for. This must be how sex workers felt.
The longer he stewed about it, the angrier he got—with himself, mostly. What was it about him that attracted women who liked to take the wheel? Why was he attracted to them?
Because he was going to text Shauna and set up another service appointment. Just as soon as the sting went out of his pride.
He sent a silent apology to Remi. It wasn’t the nose hairs they were both being led by. Most men were stupid when it came to women and sex, and he was no different, even though he had experience behind him that should have smartened him up.
Being with Shauna had changed things for him. Even though he’d known his marriage was over, a part of him had always felt married. When he’d spoken his vows, he’d meant them to last. He didn’t feel that way anymore.
And he had Shauna to thank for it.
He strapped the shovel to the four-wheeler and spun his way out of the mud. He’d give it another day or so before he sent her a text. He’d set the time and the place. And then he’d give her back her damned phone. He’d get one for himself when he could afford it.
He waited until Wednesday night to send her a text. When he did it was brief. “ Church yd. Sat 7. Leave panties home. ” He threw that in to see how she’d react.
The response came with almost instantaneous speed. “ Looking forward to it. ”
That was all it took to take his mind off the phone and start him thinking about the small birthmark he’d discovered on the inside of her thigh, and how many more birthmarks he might have missed, but he’d been pretty thorough.
She didn’t show up for the clinic on Saturday morning, to his disappointment.
He liked the way she colored up and tried to pretend she didn’t notice whenever he looked at her, and he’d been looking forward to it more than he’d realized.
It was part of their game. He’d thought for sure she’d want to see her sister’s first ride, too. He wondered what happened.
Trouble, no doubt.
In the end, it turned out to be just as well that Shauna didn’t show up.
Ford hadn’t been happy to find himself saddled with Taryn. Taryn wasn’t thrilled with it either. She proved she was serious about bull riding, however. When Ford asked which she’d ride, the steer or the bull, she chose the bull.
The bull wasn’t large, and as far as buck-off percentages went was probably a ten, mostly because at this stage in training kids fell off without any real effort on the bull’s part.
Mac, Jake McGregor’s nephew, made it past eight seconds with ease.
So did four other boys. Taryn didn’t last the whole ride, but it was her first time, and no one expected her to.
The training kicked in when she hit the dirt.
They’d drummed it into the kids that they were to get out from under the bull and out of the bullfighters’ way as fast as they could, even if they had to crawl.
Taryn landed, rolled, and with no thought to dignity—which was sometimes an issue with kids, and girls in particular—she did exactly as she’d been instructed.
The problem occurred because the bull sensed something different about the load he’d just carried and took an interest in figuring out what it was. Normally docile—all things considered—he caught Ford unawares and slipped past him on his fact-finding mission.
Taryn had her back to the bull. She must have fallen asleep during that part of the lecture. Nix, who’d been standing off to one side so he could judge the kids’ rides, saw the bull headed her way and yelled at her to watch out.
Even then things might not have gone sideways if Remi hadn’t taken it upon himself to play hero.
He leaped over the boards and into the arena like a TV ninja warrior, then charged at the bull.
The bull, completely confused by now, decided to call it a day and headed for the chute—except Taryn was blocking his exit.
She finally caught on that something was happening behind her, thanks in large part to Remi and his acrobatics, and she turned at the last second to meet the bull face-to-face.
The bull knocked her down, narrowly missed stepping on her head—thank you, Jesus, for helmets—and charged into the chute.
Ford was chasing after the bull like a marauding Viking attacking a village and swearing a blue streak.
He reached Taryn before Remi did, hauled her to her feet, and then to her toes, because she was about a foot and a half shorter than he was.
Rather than concern himself over her delicate feelings, he demanded to know why she’d had her back turned to a bull.
Remi, continuing in the hero’s role he’d cast for himself, showed a blazing lack of self-preservation by demanding that Ford unhand his woman. Except those weren’t the exact words he chose. Ford, to his credit, was secure enough in his masculinity to ignore any slights.
Miles, who’d been the other bullfighter on duty, entered the fray.
He’d been busy watching the entertainment unfold, apparently judging the bull to be no threat to anyone, which was the same sense Nix would have had about it if Taryn had been paying proper attention.
That bull was too lazy to do deliberate harm.
Getting knocked down by that kind of weight likely hadn’t been fun for her though, and Ford waving her around by one arm, while giving Remi the tongue-lashing he rightly deserved, wasn’t the way to win friends.
Since no one was dying, however, and Taryn could hold her own, Nix decided to mind his own business and let Ford handle his riders the way he believed best.
He got the bull out of the chute and into the pen, then rounded up the first steer so the younger kids could have a ride, assuming they’d want to after the drama. He was glad Shauna hadn’t shown up for this.
The remainder of the morning passed without any further displays of heroism or the use of colorful language.
Nix looked after the stock, then locked the arena door behind him, glad one more session was over and done with, and looking forward to lunch and maybe a nap.
Shauna was back in his head and dreaming about her was always a pleasant distraction.
Taryn cornered him as he was crossing the parking lot in front of the arena toward the shortcut that led to the main ranch buildings. The wind fussed with her curls, and she hunched into her puffy down jacket, with her hands in her pockets for warmth.
“I don’t want to be on Ford’s team,” she said. “He’s salty.”
Nix only had a hazy idea of what the word salty meant in her language, but he had no trouble at all with the context. “You can’t be on my team. I think you know why.”
She donned the steely-eyed look he’d come to associate with Shauna. The resemblance between the two sisters was often uncanny when he compared their mannerisms and facial expressions. Attitude, too.
The biggest difference between them was that Shauna knew how to keep her business private. She wasn’t spoiled or entitled either, despite what gifting him a damned phone might imply. They’d get that sorted out.
“It’s just a stupid rumor. People around here are so basic,” Taryn said.
There she went, using foreign language again. “It’s a stupid rumor you started.”
Blue eyes spit outrage. “Shauna told you that.”
“Who told me doesn’t matter. Do you realize I could lose my job over something like that?”
“Dan would never fire you.”
But she sounded a little less sure of herself, so Nix turned up the heat. “Dan didn’t hire me. Ryan O’Connell did, and Ryan would fire his own grandmother if he thought he had grounds for dismissal.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and he shuddered inside. He knew she was playing him, but damn, it was working for her. Boys were so much easier to deal with. None of this crying and, You hurt my feelings bullshit, and turning him into the bad guy.
“You’re trying to make me quit because I’m a girl,” she accused him, adding a sad little sniff for good measure.
How had this gone from a lecture on spreading harmful rumors to becoming an equal rights issue? Use your brain, man.
Taryn had got on the back of a bull, and when it ran her down, she bounced right back, no worse for wear. She was Trouble, and those weren’t real tears. He had to remember who was in charge.
“I’m not trying to make you quit. Just…pay more attention to Ford and remember not to turn your back on a bull.
You did good today. The sport needs more women, and I think you have a lot of potential.
But I know you understand why you can’t be on my team, because you don’t seem stupid.
It’s either work with Ford or find yourself another clinic if you want to ride. ”
Taryn’s tears dried like magic. “This is so fake .”
She spun on her suede-booted heel. Seconds later, her tires churned up gravel.
Meanwhile, as he strode the path to the ranch and the cookhouse, Nix was feeling pretty damned good overall. He’d dealt with Trouble.
Next up was Too Good.
*
Shauna