Roping the Rancher (Harlequin American Romance) Page 6
The bigger the horse, the more damage he could do if something went wrong.
Colt shifted his stance and stiffened. “Chance is the right size. Ryan’s a big kid.”
“What about your leader? Is she capable of controlling an animal that size? How much experience does she have?”
“Nikki is a champion barrel racer. She’s been around horses all her life. There isn’t one in the state that she can’t handle.”
“Why is there only one sidewalker?” Often clients had two people to focus on them, help interpret instructions and provide physical and emotional support.
Instead of answering her, Colt walked to Nikki and whispered something. Then the woman led Chance away. When he stalked to Stacy, determination filled his gaze. He closed the distance between them in two long angry strides.
“We need to talk.” Colt clasped her upper arm and tried to lead her away. When she attempted to pull away, he stopped, leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We can do this one of two ways. You can come with me of your own free will, or I can toss you over my shoulder. Which is it gonna be?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Chapter Four
Colt knew he needed to nip the situation with Stacy in the bud right quick. This first session would set the tone for every one to come. With Stacy more jittery than a mama bear with her first cub, they’d never get around to helping Ryan.
Stacy stared at him for a minute with hard determination and he thought she might defy him. That might not be a bad thing. The thought of getting his hands on those great curves of hers did have a certain appeal and could end up being the bright spot in his day.
“Lead the way,” she conceded at last, leaving him a bit disappointed.
Once they rounded the corner out of sight and earshot of Ryan and Sarah, Colt said “I want to make some things clear. Once the horse is in front of the mounting ramp, the therapy session’s started. Other people talking confuses the animal. The leader and Ryan should be the only one giving commands.”
“What if—”
“No, what-ifs. Those are the rules. It’s for everyone’s safety. When you’re around the horse, you need to remain calm, quiet and not make any sudden movements. It can make a horse shy or kick out.”
“I admit I’m a little nervous.”
“You’d have to take a Xanax to get down to nervous.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back on one heel and tossed her a she-had-to-be-kidding look.
“Okay, maybe I was getting a little overly—” She paused, obviously trying to find the right word.
“Panic stricken? Paranoid?”
“I’ll dial it down. I’ll really try.”
The pain in her voice took the wind right out of his sails. This had to be so hard for her. He’d forgotten what she’d gone through with her father. Only a complete ass would be this harsh on a woman in this situation. “I know this is tough for you. Ryan told me what happened to your father. How a horse trampled him to death on a movie set. What you’re feeling is understandable.”
She paled and her shoulders hunched, leaving her looking vulnerable and small. Almost alone against the world. “Everything I read about programs like yours says falls are rare, but they do happen. I can’t get that out of my head.”
“Ryan’s got more physical control than most of our clients. He’s got better chances of getting hit by lightning than falling off a horse. What happened to your father won’t happen here.”
“My head knows that, but my heart can’t let go of my fear. He’s all I’ve got.”
That he could understand. While she wasn’t Ryan’s parent, she and Ryan had that kind of relationship. What if he’d seen a loved one get trampled to death and then someone wanted to put Jess on a horse? “It’s hard, but you can’t let the past and your fears affect Ryan’s therapy. Go to the waiting room. Turn on the TV and forget about what’s going on. It’ll be better for everyone. You included.”
She stiffened. Her back ramrod straight, her gaze tossed daggers at him. He’d sure hit a nerve. It was almost as if what he said made her mad. As if he’d called her weak, and now she was out to prove she could handle this, but danged if she wasn’t even prettier with her dander up.
“He’s my brother. I’m his guardian. It’s my job to watch out for his best interests and to ask questions.”
So much for the understanding, soft approach. “You’re getting in the way.”
“You can’t make me leave.”
“We know what we’re doing.”
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me asking a couple of questions because you can explain your actions with sound reasoning.”
The woman had grit. He had to give her that. Normally he admired that trait, but right now her tenacity had given him one monster-size headache. “I’m willing to talk about your concerns, either before or after the session.”
“But what if something comes up during the therapy?”
“I’ll deal with anything that comes up. That’s my job. If you can’t follow my rules, find another program for Ryan.” They both knew there wasn’t another therapy option that would allow her to continue working on the movie. “Now what’s it gonna be?”
Defeat crossed her delicate features. “I’ll be quiet. I promise, and I’ll keep my questions until after the session is over.”
Damn. He felt like the playground bully who’d chased the prettiest girl in class, knocked her down and left her with a skinned knee. “I’ll give you one more shot.”
After they returned to the mounting area where Ryan and Sarah waited, he motioned for Nikki to return with Chance. Before Colt could get them moving toward the ring, Stacy’s voice stopped him. “Are you sure Ryan doesn’t need two sidewalkers for safety purposes?”
“So much for being quiet.” He glanced at his watch. “That lasted less than two minutes.”
“His therapy hasn’t started.”
“One sidewalker is plenty.” He motioned Nikki to keep coming.
Chance sensing Stacy’s anxiety tossed his head and she jumped back. “I don’t think this is the right horse for Ryan. The animal seems awfully nervous.”
Knowing he needed to get control of the session and eliminate the problem, he stormed toward Stacy. “I warned you.”
“What are you doing?” Eyes wide, she stepped back.
He took a minute to calm down before answering. Then in a measured voice he said, “You being here isn’t good for anyone. Not the horse. Not Ryan, and certainly not you.”
That pretty little chin of hers pointed at him in defiance. “I’m not leaving.”
When he’d closed the distance between them, he lifted her into his arms and slung her over his shoulder. Damn she was tiny, barely weighing more than his favorite saddle. She pounded on his back, but he barely noticed. A mosquito had a bigger bite. “Chance is a calm horse. It’s you who’s making him act like he is. Hell, you’re making everyone nervous.”
“Put me down. You can’t do this.”
“Seems I can.” He continued walking. When she squirmed in his arms, he tightened his grip around her shapely legs and then swatted her on her tight little butt. “Settle down. I don’t want to drop you.”
“That’s exactly why you should put me down. That and the fact that you don’t have any right to do this.” She went limp in his arms, though anger still rang out in her voice, loud and clear. “Why is it you keep telling me what to do? You are the most arrogant, presumptuous man I’ve ever met.”
“My ranch. My rules.” He stomped out of the barn and through the arena toward a small grassy area with a picnic table. He deposited her on the other side of the short fence. “Stay here and keep quiet. If you don’t, the next step
is locking you in the tack room. Understand?”
She wobbled and grabbed the fence post for support. Then she looked up at him with what he could only describe as terror in her eyes. “Tell me Ryan will be okay and that nothing bad will happen.”
Her voice, soft and scared, reached inside him and squeezed. He placed his hand over hers. When heat shot through him with more force than a bull bent on ridding himself of a rodeo rider, he pulled back. “We know what we’re doing. This is a different situation than a movie set. I won’t let anything happen to Ryan.”
The trust in her eyes almost bowled him over. He refused to let her vulnerability get to him. She was an actress. Who knew how much of what he saw was real and how much was a show staged to get her way? “Stay here and be quiet. If you can’t handle that go to your car or the waiting room.”
“But what if—”
“You take care of the problem or I will, and you won’t like my solution. I guarantee it.”
* * *
FOR THE NEXT hour, Stacy rode a roller coaster of emotions as she stood on the grassy area outside the arena and watched Ryan work to control his body and direct the horse around. A few times he’d wobble in the saddle making her hold her breath and clutch the bench underneath her, but he quickly stabilized.
At those times, Colt never even flinched. Just looking at him, all arrogant and confident, sent irritation coursing through her system. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. First of all, he’d gone all caveman on her and thrown her over his shoulder, making her angrier than she could ever remember being.
But she wasn’t sure who she was madder at—him or her.
Admit it. You liked having a strong man’s arms wrapped around you.
She scoffed at the idea. Being a take-charge guy was one thing, but Colt took that to the extreme. How dare the man tell her what was best for her brother? He hadn’t been with Ryan through all the surgeries and physical therapy. Colt hadn’t seen how the lack of progress destroyed his spirit. She knew her brother better than anyone and what was best for him.
But as Ryan’s therapy session progressed, she found herself admitting Colt appeared to know what he was doing. He offered suggestions on ways Ryan could improve his control and balance. He complimented her brother on what he did well.
After the session ended and they stood back in the barn after Ryan dismounted, Stacy found herself more than a little shaken, and not just because of her concern for her brother. She wasn’t sure how to process the emotions Colt aroused in her.
Forget about Colt and concentrate on the fact that Ryan had survived his first therapy session without incident. Now she had to lay the groundwork for the future ones.
“Ryan, help Nikki and Sarah groom Chance and put away his gear.”
Her brother glanced between her and Colt. “You aren’t going to kill each other, are you?”
“All I want to do is talk to her,” Colt replied in an even voice.
Ryan turned to her as if waiting for her confirmation. “Go. Colt’s right. We need to discuss some things.”
Once the others left she spun around to face Colt, her anger returning. “Don’t you ever manhandle me again like you did today.”
“I owe you an apology.”
Talk about a shot out of the blue. She hadn’t expected that at all. She figured he wasn’t a guy used to having his authority, his rules or his decisions questioned. After all, he was ex-military. Weren’t they all about structure, order and following the status quo?
When did men, even non-military ones, ever admit their mistakes? And you’ve had so much experience with men, a little voice inside her taunted. At least the actors and male directors she worked with over the years never admitted their mistakes, but men outside of the entertainment industry? She admitted the data was a little sparse.
“I’m usually a pretty even-tempered guy, but I was so all-fired mad I couldn’t see straight.” He ran his long fingers through his sun-kissed blond hair. “And obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
That made two of them. “I have to ask questions. I’m responsible for Ryan. I have to watch out for him.”
“You’re worried about him falling. I get that, but you don’t understand. What you were doing increased the risk of that very thing happening.”
His words hit her like a hard punch to the stomach. Had she really done that? The thought left her weak. She clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking.
“So where do we go from here? I have to be with him.”
“It would be better for you both if you weren’t there.”
“Let me rephrase that. I will be here while he’s going through his sessions.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll train you like any other volunteer. If you pass the muster and agree to follow the rules like everyone else, I’ll let you be Ryan’s sidewalker. That should give you a greater sense of control.”
No. She couldn’t do that. Horses were huge, unpredictable, and the thought of being that close to one left her shaking in her Louis V’s. “I can’t do that. I wouldn’t be any good. Just the thought of being near a horse makes me physically ill.”
“A person’s fear over something is usually worse than facing it. Being in a war zone taught me that. You can do this.”
The faith and certainty shining in his eyes bolstered her courage. When had anyone believed in her other than to think she could pull off a role convincingly?
She would do this for Ryan. Then she could be there with him. She could support him and understand what he was going through. “I’ll do it.”
“So we’re clear, you’ll have to follow the same rules as any other volunteer. That means I’m the boss and you do what I say, no questions asked.”
She nodded. “When can we start?”
“When do you have a day off from shooting?”
“Saturday.”
“I’ll see you here at eight. Don’t be late.” He pointed to her fancy high heels. “And get some decent boots.”
* * *
A FEW DAYS after his run-in with Stacy, Colt picked Jess up from school and she asked if she could go to Halligan’s that night. “A bunch of the kids are meeting there to listen to Maroon Peak Pass. I really want to go. Not only because my friends are going, but I want to support Emma.”
Jess met the band’s lead singer and guitarist while volunteering at the Estes Park animal shelter, where Emma worked as the volunteer coordinator. “Is Cody one of the kids that’ll be there?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t ask, and I don’t care.”
His throat tightened. “Did something happen on your date?”
“He seemed like such a great guy, but he was a bore.”
That he could handle. “I wish I could say that would be the last boring date you’ll go on, but it won’t be.”
“You mean I have to kiss a lot of frogs before I find a prince, kind of thing?”
“You kissed him?”
“No.” She drew out the word so it sounded more like no-ah. Translation: Dad, you’re being such a jerk. “All he did was talk about himself and how great he was. Why would I kiss him after a date like that?”
She was growing up so fast in some ways and still so young in others. “You think you could make time to have dinner there with your old man before you meet your friends?”
* * *
THE REMAINDER OF Stacy’s first week in Estes Park passed by uneventfully after Ryan’s therapy. Amazingly, Ryan loved Estes Park High School. He’d come home talking about the kids he’d met and was actually excited. He said it was almost freeing not having anyone know what he’d been like before the accident. His life was a blank slate now and he could make it whatever he wanted.
“Everyone says there’s a great band playing at Halligan’s tonight,
” he said the minute he climbed into the car after school.
“What kind of band? Country, I’m guessing.”
He nodded.
“Since when are you interested in country-and-western music?”
“I don’t care about the music. I just want to hang out.”
“I can drop you off. What time do you want to go?”
“I was hoping you’d go with me. You could use some fun, you know.”
“Okay. What’s up? No teenager wants to go to hear a band with his sister. Even one as cool and wonderful as I am.”
“Don’t go, then. Sit home alone. What do I care?”
Then the reason for his request hit her. How could she have been so stupid? Ryan wanted to fit in. He’d already bought a closet full of Wranglers and ditched his fancy sneakers for cowboy boots. She bet he was uneasy about going alone. He wanted her there as a safety net. “You’re right. I do need to get out. How about we go for dinner and then stay to hear the band?”
An hour or so later after she’d cleaned up and changed, she and Ryan walked into Halligan’s Bar and Grill to find the restaurant packed.
The last time she’d been in town, she’d kept to herself. Since her lodgings possessed a kitchen she’d hidden out there, living on whatever she could throw together or ordering from whatever places delivered, but this time was different. She couldn’t crawl into her cave. Not when Ryan wanted to belong so much.
Heads turned as they walked in. Stacy smoothed a hand over her blouse.
“I told you you’d be overdressed.” Ryan warned her that Halligan’s wasn’t like the restaurants and clubs she went to in L.A. She’d stubbornly told him she was who she was and she wasn’t about to change. Now she wished she’d reconsidered.
Halligan’s was a Wranglers, cowboy boots and cotton shirt type of place, and whether you were a man or woman that was the dress code. Dressed in a burgundy silk blouse, designer jeans and stilettos, she stuck out like a dandelion in a clover field.