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The Bull Rider's Valentine

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2019
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“I wonder what that’s about,” Hugh mused.

Ronnie wondered as well but said nothing.

Eventually, she and the Carringtons returned to discussing Star Shine. Ronnie was prepared to go the distance with her pitch. It proved unnecessary.

“If Nate thinks highly of your horse training abilities,” Hugh said, “that’s good enough for us. We’ll take Star Shine. When do you want us to pick her up?”

“When’s a convenient time for you?”

Hugh wanted another drink to celebrate their deal. Thankfully, Jessica nixed the suggestion and insisted they head home.

“You ladies ready?” Hugh swept his keys and phone off the table.

Ronnie knew she should go with them; she’d parked her truck two spaces down from theirs...

“You go on. I have something to do first.”

Jessica grabbed Hugh’s arm and gave a little wave with her free hand. “Have a good night.”

Ronnie strolled past the bar, saying a brief hello to Theo McGraw and a woman who boarded her horse at Powell Ranch. They probably assumed she was visiting the restroom. Once around the corner, she made straight for the back door, not at all sure what she’d give as an excuse if she encountered Nate and Bess.

As it turned out, she didn’t need one. The tall cowboy and the tiny bartender stood at the far end of the small arena, which was brightly lit by the overhead floodlights. A bank of aluminum bleachers had been installed since Ronnie’d last seen the arena, along with a trio of bucking chutes lined end-to-end.

Before long, the Poco Dinero would being hosting amateur bull riding and barrel racing events every weekend. When Bess had asked Ronnie to manage the barrel racing, she’d leaped at the opportunity, seeing a way to grow her school and horse training business.

As of yet, Bess hadn’t found the right candidate for bull riding manager. She couldn’t possibly be considering Nate, could she?

Ronnie stood in the shadows under the awning, observing him and Bess while they circled the arena. Their expressions were animated, their hands constantly making big gestures. Ronnie tried imagining other reasons for the tour. Maybe Bess was showing off her latest business endeavor to a renowned bull rider. Or, she could be seeking Nate’s advice.

When they suddenly changed direction and cut across the arena, Ronnie ducked back inside rather than be caught spying. In her haste, she dropped her keys just as the door closed behind her. Murmuring her second oath for the evening, she bent to retrieve the keys. Nerves got the best of her, and she dropped them a second time.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!”

The door banged open, missing her by an inch. She popped up, heat flooding her cheeks.

“Sorry about that? Are you okay?”

At the sound of Nate’s voice, she slowly pivoted. “I, ah...” She held up her keys. “Dropped these when I went to the bathroom.”

He shot a glance at the restroom door, a good fifteen feet away. “Did you?”

He clearly suspected she’d gone in search of him and Bess. Ronnie could kick herself. Stuffing her keys in her jacket pocket, she asked, “Where’s Bess?”

“Locking the equipment room.”

“Okay. Well, I should skedaddle.”

Skedaddle? That was the best her jumbled brain could come up with?

“Don’t go yet.” Nate took hold of her arm. “I have news.”

She was afraid to ask, her gut insisting she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Bess offered me a job. Bull riding manager. Seems I’ll be staying in Mustang Valley a while longer.”

Staying? And working with her? What next? Would he move into the vacant house across the street from her?

Unable to hang around and hear the rest of what he had to say, Ronnie spun and all but ran toward the door.

* * *

NATE CAUGHT UP with Ronnie halfway across the dance floor. “Hey. What are you mad about?”

She stopped abruptly, and he had to pull up fast to avoid bumping into her.

“Whoa!”

When she whirled to face him, accusation blazed in her green eyes. “No.”

“No what?”

“You aren’t taking the job and you’re not staying in town.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Last time I checked, this is a free country. I can take a job with anyone who hires me.”

“You said you were heading to Houston.”

“I also said my schedule’s flexible.”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Why am I taking the job? Honestly, I need the money.”

“You do know Bess hired me to manage the barrel racing events?”

“She mentioned as much.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Us working together?” He shook his head. “Not especially. From what I gather, the barrel racing and bull riding events are at different times.”

“Didn’t you think to ask me how I felt before accepting the job?”

On closer inspection, he could see the spark in her eyes was less accusation and more...fear? Was that possible? Unlikely. But trepidation, for sure, and wariness.

“Relax, will you?” He steered her to an empty table, not the same one they’d occupied with her clients. This one was smaller. Built for two. When they sat, their knees bumped and their feet battled for the limited amount of floor space. His hand inadvertently brushed hers. Each time, her reaction was a soft intake of breath. “It’s probably temporary.”

“Probably?”
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