The Bull Rider's Cowgirl
“Don’t care.” Colt pushed off the rail and headed for the exit. “She’s still in one piece.”
Though her pride had probably taken a hit at not earning the best time.
“Hey, where you going?” Judd called. “We’re up soon.”
“I know.” Colt waved him off. “Be back in a minute.”
With swift strides, he dodged whooping spectators under the blaring voice on the PA system.
“Beautiful ride by Jen Taylor. Time is 15.37, placing her second. Let’s give that gal a hand...”
Nope. No way would Jen be happy with that. She’d said on more than one occasion that getting second only meant you were the first loser. Something he had a sudden desire to help her see differently.
Colt continued forcing his way through the chaotic mass of people. He’d made it several feet when a cry cut through the air at his side. A pink bundle banged into his left knee and he grabbed it before it tumbled to the floor.
A young girl—three, maybe four?—tossed her blond curls off her cute face and steadied herself with a small hand on his leg. She had brown eyes and freckles, just like his younger half sister, Meg. At least that was what he remembered. He’d last seen her when he left home seven years ago.
An uncomfortable ache formed in his gut. One that appeared every time he remembered leaving Meg behind. “Whoa, there. You all right?”
The girl looked up at him, blinked, then spun back to scowl at the man chasing after her.
“But I want it!” Her outraged shriek almost took the roof off the arena.
“No, Annabelle.” The man took her arm and tugged her back to his side. “You’ve already had one cotton candy and that’s enough for tonight.” He nodded at Colt, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem, man.”
Colt glanced at the girl straining against her dad’s hold. Her cheeks turned cherry red and her eyes squinted.
Here it comes. Colt did his best to navigate around the group in front of him and gain some distance.
“But Ty got two,” she screeched. “I want two.”
“Your brother only had one. The same as you. I said no and that’s that.”
She jerked away and hit the floor, her pink skirt flopping around her flailing legs. Her screaming sobs prompted everyone within a mile radius to frown in her dad’s direction. He bent, hissed admonishments and tried to gather up her writhing form, with no success.
Colt cringed. Poor bastard. Kids might be cute but most of ’em turned out to be little devils disguised in pink ribbons or baseball caps. A man had to be crazy to saddle himself with one on a permanent basis.
The girl’s cries strengthened, piercing Colt’s ears and provoking a pained laugh from him. He shook his head and forged through the crowd, making his way outside. The fresh air enveloped him and the girl’s shrieks faded.
“Hey.” Tammy bumped him with her shoulder and fell in step beside him. Her lopsided smile didn’t hold its usual sparkle. “Come to console our partner?”
Colt shrugged. “No need for consoling. Jen had a good run.”
“Yeah. I know.” Tammy nodded toward the outskirts of the warm-up area. “But try telling her that.”
Jen was cooling Diamond down, apart from everyone at the edge of the grass. She walked him in slow lines, chin lifted. If Colt hadn’t spent years studying every sweet curve of her body and how she moved it, he might’ve missed the overly stiff set of her shoulders and hard clench of her thighs around the saddle. But he didn’t.
Colt cut his eyes away and watched the other racers mingling around the cooldown area. “I’m gonna touch base with her before I ride. You mind giving us a minute?”
“Sure.” Tammy’s brows raised, her green eyes encouraging as she walked away. “Take your time.”
Colt walked over to Jen, stopping as she maneuvered Diamond into a turn and faced him. Her eyes flashed.
He squared his shoulders then nodded up at her. “That was a damn good run, Red.”
Jen stilled and the hard glint in her eyes softened. She smiled. The action small and beautiful. But hesitant.
“Thanks.” She patted Diamond’s thick shoulder. “I’ve got a talented partner.”
“It wasn’t all him,” Colt said. “You had a part in that, too. The hardest part.” His hand lifted, reaching toward her. He brought it back to his side and shifted his stance. “Second place is fantastic considering the tough competition you had. You really were great.”
Jen looked away, brushing light touches over Diamond’s mane. Her smile fell. “Wasn’t quite enough, though,” she whispered.
Colt’s throat closed. She was so hard on herself. More critical of her performances than anyone else was. Almost to the point of erasing all the joy from a competition. Her face had stopped lighting up at the start of a run like it used to. And at the moment he wanted to see that glow in her smile again. Needed to see it.
“It’ll be more than enough next time,” he said, freezing at the husky note in his voice.
Something soft heated his palm. He blinked and looked down, stiffening at the sight of his hand curled around her thigh, easing its way up toward her hip. Just as it had with so many other women.
Her rich, brown eyes narrowed their focus on his hand, then shot to his face. “Feeling sorry for me, Colt? Trying to help me feel better by throwing me a little attention?” Her face flushed and her voice shook. “I don’t need soothing. But Autumn might. She said you’re welcome to pay her a visit later.” She eased Diamond back a few steps, sliding away from his touch. “Seems you’re good at a lot more than just sweet-talking women.”
Ah, hell. That was called for. But it stung. It squeezed his chest so tight, his lungs threatened to collapse.
Still, Jen’s anger was an improvement over the defeated expression she’d had moments ago and a lot easier to deal with than her adoration. Especially since he knew that in the long run, he’d only disappoint.
“Yeah.” He choked back his pride, knuckled his hat farther up his forehead and conjured a sly grin. “I am. You just haven’t seen me at my best yet, baby.” He widened his smile, easing back into the safe, familiar role. “Stick around and watch me ride.”
Colt spun on his heel and ambled away. Jen’s hard stare burned a bigger hole in his back with each step. He took the long way around to the bull pens, avoiding every buckle bunny and child within sight.
Women. He understood them only in the bedroom. And kids? He didn’t understand them at all. Bulls, however, he got. And the massive, black-and-white-speckled monster glaring at him through the gate was about to get to know him, too.
Chapter Two
“Careful. That son o’ a bitch can spring.”
Colt handed the end of his rope to Judd and studied the restless bull being prepared in the chute below them. “I hope so.”
A bull that jumped, kicked and spun right out of the chute guaranteed a shot at a high score. The kind of score Judd had failed at grabbing several rides ago when he’d drawn a flat bull that took a Sunday stroll out of the chute instead of blasting out of it. Hopefully, Sonic, the burly beast Colt had drawn, would be feistier.
As if on cue, the angry animal slammed his thick horns into the metal rails, then sprang up, hooking his hooves over the top of the eight-feet-high gate. The cheers filling the Silver Spurs Arena strengthened as the cowboys surrounding the chute yanked on the ropes draped over the bull’s back, pulling him off the gate.
Colt smiled. Hell, yeah. This one was a damn deal feistier.
He glanced around the arena, taking steady breaths and visualizing a successful scenario on the dirt. But his eyes snagged on a cream-colored hat and red hair in the stands.
In the front row, Jen no longer sat, but had shot to her feet, eyes on the bull banging around in the chute below him, and face creased with apprehension. Tammy and another woman he recognized as a barrel racer—Karla, was it?—stood at her side, looking equally dismayed.
Colt turned away, started wrapping tape around the glove on his left hand and did his best to ignore the warm satisfaction rippling through him. Pissed though she was, Jen had not only stuck around for over an hour to watch his ride, she was worried about him.
“Told you this joker could spring,” Judd shouted over the hard rock music. “You ready to get slung?”
“Yep.” Colt bit the tape off, handed the roll to one of the spotters at his side and jerked his chin. “So long as it’s after eight seconds.”
A buzzing in Colt’s back pocket rattled through the denim of his jeans. He yanked his cell phone out, glancing at the lit screen. Mead Enterprises.
Colt shook his head. Friday night. Approaching 10:00 p.m. No doubt his father, John W. Mead, would still be holed up in his high-rise Atlanta office closing another deal. It was always about business with John W. Mead. Never personal. And never about actually building a relationship with his son. That had become especially true after Colt’s mother died.
Nope. His old man probably wanted the same thing he’d been hassling him about for the last year.
Time to get your ass home, Colt. You’ve played long enough and there’s work to be done.
Colt rejected the call with a rough swipe of his thumb and shoved his cell toward Judd. “Mind hanging on to that till I’m through?”
“Sure.” Judd shoved it in his pocket, then firmed his grip on the rope.
Colt scrutinized Sonic’s movements and regained his focus. He shoved in his mouth guard, grabbed the opposite rail and climbed into the chute, placing a boot in the center of the bull’s back. He waited a couple seconds as Sonic shifted and stomped, then slid his legs down around the bull’s muscular sides and sat.
The rich scent of musky hide filled his nostrils and the tang of dirt drifting on the air touched his tongue with each breath he took. He grabbed hold of the rope Judd stretched up, and yanked his gloved hand over it briskly, tapping it with his fist when he finished to cue Judd to hand it over. Hooking his gloved fingers through the handle laying over the bull’s back, he set the rope, then wrapped the long end of it around his palm. He closed his fist, opened it, then curled it again.
Satisfied with his grip, Colt secured his position, then nodded.
The gate clanged open and Sonic catapulted into the arena, his back end twisting and lifting vertically several feet into the air on a vicious kick. Colt stretched his right arm high above his head as they rose up. He leaned back and the muscles in his left forearm seized with his strained grip on the rope.
Sonic’s hard haunches slammed against Colt’s shoulder blades. The bull’s long tail whipped over Colt’s head and smacked across his face, the coarse hairs stinging his eyes and knocking his hat off his head.
Gravity snatched them back down and Sonic’s front hooves hit the dirt, yanking Colt forward. Colt jerked his head to the side, his cheek missing the sharp point of a horn by inches.
Sonic lurched again, lifting them both so high so fast that Colt’s gut swirled on an intense wave of panicked excitement. A shout exploded from deep within his chest and blasted through the smile stretching across his mouth guard.
Hot damn! This beast could fly.
Clenching his thighs to counteract each of Sonic’s moves, Colt held on with his left fist, but let go of the world around him. The spectators’ cheers dimmed to barely discernable echoes and the violent thrashings of the bull rattled away every care or concern he’d ever had.
They soared, spun, then thudded hard against the earth. Over and over. Each of their grunts and harsh breaths flooded Colt’s senses as he pitted his will against Sonic’s.
A buzzer sounded and reality struck, ripping his attention away from the battle and back to survival. He wrestled his hand free of the rope and leaned to the side as Sonic writhed in the air, allowing the momentum to sling him from the bull’s back and tumble him across the dirt.
He sprang to his feet and ran. Sonic followed, charging twice before the bullfighters distracted him and directed him back toward the pen.
Colt spotted his Stetson in the dirt. He scooped it up, settled it back on his head, then tipped the brim at Sonic. The bull snorted, kicking the metal gate one more time as he bulldozed his way into the pen.
Colt pulled his mouth guard out, shoved it in his pocket and laughed. “Nice meetin’ you, too, you big bastard.”
He waved at the cheering crowd, then made his way out of the ring, rubbing a hand over the sore muscles of his lower back and grimacing at the sharp ache in his left ankle.
Judd met him at the gate, handed him his phone, then slapped his shoulder. “I think you just locked this one down, man. No one’s going to pull off a better ride than that tonight.”
“Let’s hope not,” Colt said, breathing hard. “That bull made me earn it.”
Judd laughed. “I gotta get back and spot another rider.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he left. “Your fan club’s calling.”
Colt glanced toward the stands. Tammy stood on the floor beside the front row, laughing and waving her hat wildly. Karla was at her side, whistling through two fingers and making catcalls. Jen stood nearby with a blank expression, clutching a beer.
Colt made his way over but slowed when Jen’s dark eyes ran over him, hovering on the slight limp of his left leg. His grin widened and that tingle of satisfaction returned.
“That was fantastic,” Karla yelled over the noise in the arena.
“Fantastic?” Tammy threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed. “It was phenomenal!”
A chuckle escaped him despite the painful twinge Tammy’s snug hold caused. “Glad you thought so.”
“Are you all right?”
Jen scrutinized his left leg. Her eyes lifted and locked with his, the gentle concern shining there sparking an unwelcome yearning in his chest. It made his palms itch with the need to reach out and tug her to him. Made him miss the friendly banter they used to share.
“Why?” Colt slipped out of Tammy’s embrace and flashed a cocky grin, teasing her like he used to. “Worried about me, baby?”
Jen didn’t respond in kind as he’d hoped. Just scoffed, her mouth flattening as she cut her eyes away.
He wasn’t sure what got under her skin more. The suggestive tone he’d used or the arrogant smile he’d adopted. Though it could’ve been the wink he’d thrown in, too.
What he did know for sure was that the damage he’d done that night in the bar caused all three actions to fall flat and made him feel like more of a heel than ever.
Tammy’s small fist punched his chest. “Watch it, Colt.”
Duly chastised, he ducked his head and ignored the heat singeing his cheeks.
“After you collect your check, we need to pack up and head out,” Tammy said. “That big money pot is still up for grabs at the Davie Pro Rodeo tomorrow night and I could use the extra time to prepare. I really need that win if I’m going to make it to the finals this year.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Colt said, squeezing her shoulder.
Tammy’s brows rose. “Oh yeah, I do. You think Jen felt bad about placing second tonight? I’d have killed for that spot. I was fifth, Colt. Fifth.”
“I know, but—”
“And I was eighth,” Karla added, tucking a short strand of black hair behind her ear. “Tammy and I have already crunched some numbers. Jen can get by without another win this weekend, but if Tammy and I don’t place in the top three at Davie, we’ll be so far behind we’ll never qualify for Vegas.”
“You’ll make it,” Colt said, meeting Tammy’s uncertain expression with a determined one. “I know you will.”
“Not if I don’t place at Davie tomorrow night.” Tammy shook her head. “Without that win, I’m out.”
Colt nodded. A trip to Davie was just in time. Maybe he’d have more luck finding a woman there who stirred his interest. One who would help him shake off this lust he had for Jen. Then maybe he’d have a decent shot at rebuilding their friendship.
“So we’ll head to Davie.” He grinned and patted his front pocket. “Right after I collect my check.”
Yep. That was the way he liked it. No baggage. No responsibilities. Just an endless string of nights filled with fun and freedom. All provided by the bulk of bills lining his pockets. Money he’d earned himself on the back of a bull. Free and clear of his corporate raider father.
The phone in Colt’s hand went off, jerking with rhythmic pulses. He glanced at the screen. Mead Enterprises again.
He groaned. John W. Mead wasn’t giving up tonight. Might as well get it over with.
“Gotta take this.” Colt nodded in apology to the ladies, exited the arena and accepted the call, striving for a nonchalant tone. “Before you ask, I’m headed south. In the opposite direction.”
Silence hung heavy on the line. There was no sharp reprimand from his father. No cynical comeback. Just empty air.
Colt huffed out a breath and kicked the ground. The old man was trying a new tactic. “Go ahead. Lay that guilt on thick ’cause it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in joining up with the company. I have business of my own to take care of.” Bulls. Beaches. And beauties. Not necessarily in that order. “You hear me, Dad?”
“Mr. Mead? Colt Wyatt Mead?”
He stilled. The voice on the other end of the line was feminine. Hesitant but businesslike.
“You got him. Who’s this?”
“This is Angela Reed. Your father’s secretary.”
Colt’s fingers squeezed the phone, his laugh hesitant. “You’re working late tonight. He ask you to pass along new marching orders to me?”
“Sir.” A swift intake of air sounded across the line. “I’m sorry to deliver news this way but...” An odd tapping started, as if a phone cord was being jiggled. “There was—” Her voice cracked. “Your father’s partner, Jack Evans, has been trying to reach you. He asked me to call and tell you...”
He froze. “Tell me what?”
“There’s been an accident.” Her words were short and swift. “Your father’s jet crashed this morning. I’m sorry to say he didn’t make it.”
Colt’s stomach heaved, a wave of nausea surging over him. “What?”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Mead,” she whispered. “But Mr. Evans wanted you to know in time to return home for the funerals if you desired to do so. Services have been arranged for Sunday afternoon.”
“Funerals?” Dear God. Meg. “My sister. Was she—”
“No, sir,” she said hastily. “Your sister wasn’t on board. Just your father and Mrs. Mead.”
A strange tingling spread over him, buzzing through his blood and clouding his vision. The ground warped beneath his feet. He moved closer to the paddock fence in front of him and grabbed at the top rail.
His father. His stepmother. Dead.
“Mr. Mead?” The secretary’s voice softened. “Your sister is the other reason for my call. There are several matters that require your attention. May I tell Mr. Evans that you’ll be returning?”
Colt squeezed his eyes shut. His throat thickened, strangling his words. “Y-yes. I’m returning.”
The trembling in his limbs turned violent. Colt cut the call and clenched both hands into fists. He continued standing there as winners were announced over the PA system. Stayed still as the throng of spectators left the arena and made their way to the parking lot, leaving only rodeo participants behind.
Colt waited until his stomach hardened and the feeling in his limbs vanished. Until there was no feeling left anywhere. Numb was a damned sight better than breaking down right now. He had to stay in control to make the long drive home. And he was a world away from Atlanta’s Tuxedo Park.
* * *
“COLT?”
Jen took a few hesitant steps forward, her boots whispering over the grass as she approached him. He didn’t answer. Just stood there, motionless as he stared straight ahead at the paddock, fists at his sides.
The crowd outside the Silver Spurs Arena had dwindled to a few rodeo riders, every one of them eager to find the next party and unwind. All except Colt. One phone call had extinguished his flirtatious demeanor.
Jen’s skin prickled at the unusually tight set of his broad shoulders. She stopped, fiddled with the soggy label on her beer and tried again.
“Colt. What’s wrong?”
A crack of laughter rang out. Jen glanced over her shoulder to find Tammy and Karla sauntering through the exit and sharing a joke.
Tammy’s eyes brightened as they landed on Colt. “Well, finally. We’ve been waiting for you for forever. You won. They’ve got your check...”
Her steps faltered at his lack of response and she shot a look at Jen.
Jen shook her head.
“Who was on the phone, Colt?” Tammy moved to his side and placed a hand on the small of his back, releasing a small laugh. “Come on. You’re scaring us. Who was it?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “My father’s secretary.”
“Bad news?” Tammy asked.
He nodded.
“Well, wha—”
“My father’s dead.”
Tammy gasped and wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “Oh, no.”
Jen froze, her fingers clutching the beer bottle hard. Karla made a sound of dismay at her side.
“He and my stepmom.” His brow furrowed. “Their jet crashed.”
The words were flat. Emotionless. His blue eyes were empty and his expression remained stoic.
Jen’s vision blurred. “I’m so sorry, Colt,” she whispered, unsure what else to say.
They rarely spoke of family. His, Tammy’s or hers. Just made vague comments when necessary. He and Tammy were close and that was about as much as she knew.
Colt’s features hardened and he shrugged away from Tammy’s touch. “They always flew on a private jet.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It’s faster and my father says it’s safer. At least that’s what he used to say.” A sneer crossed his face. “Truth was, he thought he was too good to fly commercial with common people. Both of them did.” His voice weakened. “Death doesn’t discriminate, though, does it?”
Jen’s heart squeezed at the shadows in his eyes. She glanced at Tammy, her throat closing at the tears streaming down her friend’s cheeks. Jen crossed to her side and squeezed her hand.
Colt planted his back to them, saying, “My sister’s alone.”
“You have a sister?” Jen asked.
Colt nodded and thrust his hands in his pockets. “Meg. My half sister. She’s around nine now. I haven’t seen her since she was two.”
Jen hesitated. “Surely a family member’s with her—”
“What family?” Scorn tinged his words. He spun around to face her. “My father’s work was his family. It’s not surprising that his secretary was the one to give me the news.” He hesitated, his sculpted mouth opening, then closing as he eyed his cousin. “Tammy, I need to go home. Just for the weekend. For the funeral and to see Meg.”
“Of course.” Tammy pulled her hand free from Jen’s and wiped her cheeks. “I’ll go with you. We can have the horses loaded in no time.”
“No.” Colt held up a hand. “I’m going alone. You have a race to win.”
Tammy’s jaw fell. “Screw the race, Colt. I’m not—”
“You are.” He shook his head, jaw clenching. “You know what it’s like back there. And I’m not staying for any longer than the...” He stopped, looking away before continuing. “I’m not staying any longer than necessary.”
Jen ached at the bleak tone in his voice. She longed to wrap her arms around Colt and comfort him but knew he wouldn’t accept it.
“Colt.” Tammy’s tone turned hard. “There’s no way I’m letting you go alo—”
“You don’t have to let me do anything. This is how I want it.” Colt’s chest lifted on a rough breath. “You knew what he was like. He never gave a shit about me. Or you. Or anyone for that matter. I’m not letting you blow your chance at success for that—”
His voice cracked. He spun on his heel to leave.
Tammy grabbed his arm and jerked him to a stop. “Colt. This is ridiculous.” She stepped close, her face pleading. “You can’t expect me to waltz off to a race while you’re dealing with this.”