Ride Me Cowboy #4 (The Cowboy Romance Series - Book #4) Page 5

  She laughed and said, “Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea, either. I still have no idea who I am. Look at me in bed with my stepbrother.”

  I kissed her face again. “I wish that you didn’t put yourself down like that. My chest hurts for you and all you’ve been through. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry that I was a judgmental asshole as well about you and school and your mother’s wedding. It goes to show you what they say is true and that everyone is fighting their own battle.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m getting better about trusting and keeping my faith where it belongs – in Lydia, my only true mother. If my bio-mom calls again, I will probably go see her, but I won’t leave Lydia to do it.”

  I held her in my arms for a long time, wishing that there was something I could do for her. I wanted her to feel better, but I knew that after a lifetime of betrayal, it was going to take a lot more than an arm around her to fix it.

  After another hour went by, I saw the flash of headlights and heard Dad’s truck drive in. “Damn! They’re back,” I told her.

  She jumped up quickly and grabbed for her clothes. I was watching her, enjoying the show when she picked up a pillow and threw it at me. “Why aren’t you getting up?”

  I laughed. “This is my room. I don’t have to get up.” She laughed, too, and hit me a few more times with the pillow before she left.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LEXI

  I woke up the next morning content and practically purring like a cat. It’s amazing to me that all of the men I dated in the city I love put together didn’t equal one of the man that Mark is. I didn’t intend to fall so hard for him, but sometimes you just can’t fight the chemistry that’s there. I laid there in bed and thought about sharing my life story with him. There were very few people in my life that I’ve ever shared any of that with. The other men that I’ve been with, even the ones that I’ve had serious relationships with, had no idea. For whatever reason, I just never felt close enough to them or trusted them enough. I don’t regret telling Mark and my soul actually feels lighter now that I’ve shared with him.

  I was about to get out of bed when there was a knock on my door. “Who is it?”

  “Me.” It was Mark. I smiled like an idiot.

  “Come in.”

  He opened the door and when he saw me sitting up in bed all disheveled and still in my pajamas, he grinned. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said in a low tone.

  “Hi.”

  “Dad and Lydia are leaving for church and then going to a barbecue afterwards. I was wondering if you’d like to go for a ride today while they’re gone. I’ll make us a picnic lunch.”

  “A ride? Like on horseback?”

  “Um…well, I do have a motorcycle, too, if you’d prefer…”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You know what I mean. What about your hand?”

  “I can ride one handed. Sarge knows what to do.”

  “You can saddle and all of that with one hand?”

  “No, but that’s where you – my happy helper – comes in.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know anything about saddling a horse.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  Apparently, he had all of the bases covered. “Okay, let’s go for a ride…I guess.”

  “Okay, Dad and Lydia are leaving in about an hour. I’ll meet you out at the barn then.”

  “Good, it’ll give me time to shower and dress.”

  I stood up and he ran his eyes down my body and back up to my face. My blood heated just from his gaze. He had a lustful look on his face and he said, “You’re welcome to wear what you have on.”

  “Get out of here, I’ll see you…fully dressed in an hour,” I said with another laugh.

  “Kill joy.” He left and I got in the shower, still smiling. By the time I got out to the barn, he already had the saddle thrown up over Sarge’s back.

  “You were supposed to wait for me.”

  “You take long showers.”

  I smiled. “I like to smell good.”

  He sniffed the air and said, “It worked,” with a wink.

  I looked at the horse with the saddle thrown over his back and said, “Okay, so what do I need to do?”

  He talked me through tightening the cinch and when I finished, he told me how to check it. “Okay, now lower the stirrup.” I did and he announced, “Amazing. You saddled him like a pro.”

  “A slow pro,” I said.

  He shrugged. “You did it and you did it right, that’s all that matters. You want to saddle another one, or you want to ride with me?”

  “I’ll go with you,” I told him. I wasn’t sure enough about my riding skills to take it on too far alone.

  “Don’t laugh at me. I can’t grab the horn with my right hand so I’m going to get up on the left. It might look a little awkward.” I nodded and watched him tuck his toe in the stirrup, reach up with his left hand and throw his leg over the horse. Left side or not, he looked like a pro. “Your turn,” he said. He was reaching down at an awkward angle with his left hand so I went on the other side. I put my left foot in the stirrup and with his left arm holding onto me, I swung up behind him. I slid my arms around his waist and he let out an, “Mmm.”

  Laughing I said, “Stop it pervert.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hot then,” he said with a grin. He clicked his tongue at Sarge and we headed out down the path that led around the pasture towards the rolling green hills. As we rode along, we were both silent, taking in the beauty of the day. After riding up a small hill, we started descending a steep ridge that led towards a small green valley.

  “Wow! Everything down here is so lush and green,” I said.

  “Yeah, it is. It sits so deep that it’s not exposed to the harsh sun and the moisture stays in the grass a lot longer.”

  The grass was dotted with cattle and their calves, grazing and frolicking in the deep grass. Neither Sarge nor Mark even seemed to notice the cattle as we rode through them. I was fascinated over how the cattle didn’t seem to be afraid of us and just continued about their business. “They’re not afraid of us,” I said out loud.

  “Nope. Sometimes that actually presents a problem, as in when you’re trying to move them and they just stubbornly stand their ground.”

  “They’re actually really pretty,” I said. He laughed.

  “Pretty, huh?”

  “Yeah, their coat is all shiny and their muscles ripple when they move. They look happy and healthy.”

  “You know what they say about California cows,” he said.

  “No what?”

  Laughing again he said, “Do you watch television at all?”

  “Not unless I have to,” I replied.

  “Well, what they say is that a California cow is a happy cow. But it’s good that you don’t watch a lot of television. It’s all junk anyways.”

  We rode across the lush pasture and up a slope on the other side. Then he took us across a flat, dry area and descended down from there to a big creek. “I thought you just had the one lake,” I said.

  “This is a creek. It runs off from the mountains when it snows. There hasn’t been much snow lately, so the water line is low. It’s still high enough for the cattle to use it for water, though, so we’re doing okay.”

  The creek was so clear that I could see the smooth, colorful rocks on the bottom, like looking through glass. Mark was right, though, it couldn’t have been more than a foot deep and was barely moving. It looked lazy to me, meandering along its rocky path.

  “How’s this look for lunch?” Mark asked.

  “Perfect,” I said. “My legs and butt are killing me.” I’m pretty sure from the set of his jaw that he was trying not to laugh.

  “I’m sorry,” he said very sweetly. “I didn’t think about you not being used to being on a horse.”

  “I’m tough,” I replied. “I’ll get over it.”

  He stopped and I awkwardly dismounted, concerned that my shaky legs might give out right underneat
h me and sent me sprawling to the ground. Mark seemed to just slide off. He took hold of my arm with his good hand and said, “Are you okay, really?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just stiff and sore.”

  I walked around a bit to work my muscles out while Mark set up for our picnic lunch. “Lunch is served,” he said. I looked at what he’d set up. He had brought a big, fresh-looking loaf of French bread, a container of cold cuts and cheese, cut-up watermelon, and cheesecake.

  “Wow, looks good. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. It was all in the fridge just as you see it. Your mom did all the work, not me.”

  “Well, you put it together nicely.”

  “Sit, let’s eat,” he directed with a grin.

  The truth was that I was afraid if I sat I would look like a complete idiot trying to get back up. He’d spread the blanket next to a rock, so I sat on that and reached back to try and massage my sore back with my fingers. Mark came over and sat on the ground, but close to me. His left hand came up and replaced mine on the small of my back. He gently but firmly rubbed along my spine, giving me goosebumps and delightfully loosening my muscles.

  “Oh my goodness. That feels so good. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” he said. “If you haven’t noticed, I love touching you.”

  “Really?” I said, feigning shock. Then I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. When I pulled back he was smiling, but he also had a strange look on his face. “What?”

  He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of my face. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not what you were thinking just now.”

  “It’s just funny how much has changed since that first day you drove up on the ranch. You were prepared to hate it here…”

  “I was. It’s funny how all of this beauty and fresh air grows on you.”

  “Is that it?”

  I grinned. “Are we fishing for compliments?”

  Grinning back, he said, “Maybe a little.” I cupped his face in my hand and kissed him again, harder this time.

  “Does that answer your question?”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  We enjoyed our lunch and made it back to the house before Rob and Mom. We kept our distance from each other when Rob was around. That was mostly me, I didn’t want to give him anything else to use against Mark. We were good in front of Mom, too, but we could at least show our friendship in front of her. The days passed and we grew closer – then the days turned into weeks and with daily walks and horseback rides, a carnival in town, and stolen kisses every chance we got, I began to believe that my feelings towards Mark had far exceeded the level of friendship. I was falling in love with him. I didn’t say anything to him about it and I’m not sure that I ever would, but I could no longer deny it to myself.

  I woke up sick to my stomach the morning of Mark’s final doctor’s appointment to find out if he could ride in the rodeo this weekend. I was so torn about all of this. I hated the sad look on his face when he talked about not being able to qualify for the finals after all of the hard work he did to get this far. But at the same time, I was terrified of him going back in there and getting hurt again…or worse. I resolved not to say anything to him about that, though. No matter what, I planned on being supportive. I met him downstairs in the kitchen. He was eating breakfast. When I walked in, he looked up and smiled. I could see the excitement in his eyes. He wanted this day to go his way so badly and his enthusiasm was enough to make me want the same. “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and came over to sit across from him at the table.

  “Lydia left a plate of breakfast in the microwave for you.”

  I rubbed my stomach and said, “I don’t think I can eat yet.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a little nervous about the appointment today.”

  “Don’t be. I called Tuck Raber.”

  “Oh…well that makes it all better…” he was beaming.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Who the hell is Chuck Raber?”

  He laughed. “Not Chuck, Tuck. He’s a rodeo doctor who’s been around for twenty five years. He’s agreed to come see me if the surgeon doesn’t consent to releasing me.”

  “And do what?” I asked.

  “Examine me…give me a second opinion.”

  “So he’s easily manipulated?” I was a little worried about this new development.

  Laughing he said, “No. Really. He’s a good doctor. But he can relate to what we do. He was a saddle bronc rider for years before he got his medical degree. He understands that this is our life and all he does is treat rodeo injuries. He’s an orthopedic specialist, too, so it’s not like he’s just some country bumpkin doctor. If he honestly believes it will cause me further injury to go back out there, he’ll tell me.”

  “I’ll have to meet this doctor and decide for myself,” I told him, still skeptical. He smiled.

  “I like that you’re so worried about me.”

  “There was something I didn’t tell you about that day I did all of that research into the rodeo. Do you know that it is one of the most dangerous organized spectator sports in the world?”

  “Yep, I did know that.”

  “Do you know that out of all seven traditional events that bull riders receive the most injuries?”

  “I did,’ he said. Then he grinned and said, “That’s why only tough cowboys attempt it.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued, “It’s ten times more dangerous than football and thirteen times more dangerous than hockey…”

  “I like it that you care so much, but please don’t worry. I promise to do whatever the doctor recommends,” he said. “The difference between Tuck and other doctors is that instead of hounding us about changing careers, he does whatever it takes to help us return to competition as soon as possible. He’s a good guy and a good doctor.”

  I went into it with as open a mind as possible. The surgeon recommend that he wait a couple more weeks. He was disappointed, but not devastated. Then we went to see Tuck and I have to admit that I really liked him. He had degrees and certificates and commendations all over his home office. He spoke to me as well as Mark and he explained fully the mechanics of Mark’s injury. He told Mark what could happen if he rode again too soon and then he told him what to do to make his wrist even stronger if he chose to ride anyways. At the end of the meeting Mark said, “So, I already know that I want to ride. I believe I’m ready. Will you sign the release?”

  Tuck took it out of Mark’s hand, signed it, and handed it back. “Good luck, cowboy.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MARK

  I was so happy that I could have kissed Tuck right on the mouth. I could tell that Lexi was doing her best to put on a happy face, but she wasn’t as thrilled about the news as I was. That didn’t bother me, though. I knew that it was only because she worried and cared about me, and I liked knowing that. I knew that I was going to be okay. I know my own body, I know my own strength…I can do this. When we got back to the ranch I told Lydia the good news.

  “The doctor said I can ride this weekend!”

  She looked at Lexi. “Did you hear this first hand?”

  Lexi smiled and nodded. “He signed his release.”

  “Well, good for you then,” Lydia said. “I guess you are a tough guy after all. Just be safe,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. She was really a good person. I wish that my father could learn a few things.

  Speaking of my father, he came in and actually sat down for dinner with us. I assumed Lydia must have requested it, but I was happy that we were all together tonight and in spite of our history, I shared my news with him.

  “Hey, Dad, I got cleared for the rodeo this weekend.”

  Dad looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Hasn’t the rodeo taken enough from you?”

  “No, Dad, actually it’s given me so much. I don’t un
derstand why you can’t just be happy for me…just once.”

  “Don’t you know that damned rodeo is responsible for the miserable life that we’ve had?”

  I was confused. “We?” What was he talking about? “Why does it make you miserable, Dad?”

  He threw down his napkin and pushed back his plate. “I guess I should have told you this long ago and then maybe it would have kept you from doing this in the first place.”

  “Told me what?”

  “I used to have the same fire inside of me that you do. I rode broncs, and I was one of the best.”

  “Oh my God, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to do it. It’s going to screw up your life. It’s going to take everything you love away from you and you’re going to end up an unhappy, lonely old man who can barely get out of bed in the morning.” He pushed back from the table and stormed into the other room.

  Lydia looked at me and said, “You should go after him.”

  I didn’t really want to, but she was right. He and I needed to work this out. It was giving me ulcers worrying about it all the time. I found him standing on the sun porch, looking out over the ranch.

  “Dad…”

  “Mark, just let it go. You know how I feel.”

  “I do. What confuses me is why – especially if you did it and you understand the pull…”

  “Your mother died while I was on the road.”

  “You were working…”

  “No. This ranch was just starting up. I bought this place to make your mother happy…I bought it with the money I won placing second in the finals when you were two years old.”