Cowboy for Keeps

The man whose life remained perfect while Conner’s had taken a nosedive.

“It’s so good to see you again!” Dallas came toward him.

He reached out his hand to shake hers. “Hey, Dallas.”

She ignored his hand and wound her arms loosely around his neck for a friendly hug. Against his better judgment, Conner folded her in his embrace and drew her close. She smelled like spring flowers and felt like every man’s fantasy. Then again, she always had.

Richard was one lucky guy to snare a woman like her.

And, like a fool, Conner had made it easy for him.

She drew slowly back and assessed him in that interested way old friends do after not seeing each other for a while. “How have you been?”

Rather than state the obvious, that he was still looking for a job and just managing to survive, he answered, “Fine. How ’bout yourself?”

“Great.”

She looked as happy as she sounded. Flushed—no, glowing, her brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. She’d swept her brunette hair, shorter than when he’d seen her last month, off her face with a colorful band.

Conner could be mistaken, but he thought she might have put on a little weight. It looked good, giving her curves in all the right places.

Married life obviously agreed with her.

“I thought you turned down the photography job.” He tried not to stare, dimly aware that he’d interrupted Gavin.

His friend shot him an impatient look. “Like I was saying, Dallas’s calendar unexpectedly cleared. She called me last night and volunteered to take the pictures, if we still needed someone, which we do.”

She broke out in that incredible smile again.

Conner’s heart disregarded his brain’s directive and beat triple time.

This had to stop. She was taken, and Conner didn’t trespass on another man’s territory, even when he disliked the guy.

He needed to get a grip on himself, and fast. How could he expect to work with her otherwise?

The coffee-table-style book, in the planning stages for months, would chronicle the life of Prince, beginning with his capture, to his success as a stud horse, as well as tell the story of the mustang sanctuary, from its inception to today. All profits from the sale of the book would go toward funding the sanctuary and raising awareness of the plight of wild mustangs.

As an avid advocate of no-kill animal shelters, and a professional photographer, Dallas had been the Powells’ first choice. It was Conner, in fact, who’d introduced her to them back in the day, when he was on good terms with Richard. Since then, she’d become friends with the Powells, frequently volunteering at the sanctuary. She’d initially agreed to work on the book, but then there had been that conflict.

No more, apparently.

Conner would do whatever was required of him to help the Powells and Clay Duvall, whose rodeo arena currently housed the sanctuary. They weren’t just his good friends, he also supported their efforts to rehabilitate former wild mustangs and place them in good homes.

He just wished he didn’t have to work with Dallas.

“I thought maybe you two could head out to the sanctuary this morning,” Gavin continued, oblivious of the internal battle waging inside Conner. “Get started with some pictures, figure out what all needs doing and how you’re going to manage it.”

Dallas beamed. “Wonderful idea!”

“I have a class at five.” When Conner wasn’t overseeing the bucking and roping stock at the Duvall’s rodeo arena, he taught riding classes at Powell Ranch and lead trail rides.

“I’ll cover for you.” Gavin started for the door.

“O...kay.” Done deal. Conner was going with Dallas to the sanctuary. “We’ll take my truck.”

She accompanied him out of the office and to the apartment, where he’d parked.

“I thought you drove a Dodge,” she commented, upon seeing his older model Ford.

“Used to.” He didn’t elaborate, preferring not to advertise that he’d traded in the Dodge, along with his convertible and motorcycle, for a secondhand truck without monthly payments.

“Oh.” Understanding registered on Dallas’s face. “I’m sorry about your job. Triad Energy Systems lost a good department head.”

He opened the door for her. “Guess they kept the better man.”

She met his gaze. “They kept the man with more seniority.”

Not the kind of remark he’d expect from Richard’s better half.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t ask how he’s doing.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t know.” An indefinable emotion flickered in her eyes. “As of two months ago, we’re no longer engaged.”

It took several seconds for her words to register, longer for their implication to sink in.

Dallas Sorrenson was not just single, she was available.

* * *

CONNER HAD ALWAYS BEEN easy to talk to, his boyish charm encouraging conversation. It wasn’t the only quality Dallas had liked about him.

Did like about him.

Talk flowed easily on the ten-minute drive from Powell Ranch to the mustang sanctuary at Duvall Rodeo Arena. Well, with two minor exceptions.

When Dallas inquired after Conner’s job search, he gave her one of those nonanswers and promptly changed the subject. They also didn’t discuss what had happened between her and Richard, though the news of their breakup had clearly stunned him, requiring a full minute for him to regain his ability to speak.

Not that Dallas blamed Conner for avoiding any discussion of her former fiancé. Richard had been retained and awarded a raise while Conner was let go. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t harbor a grudge.

“I always love coming here,” she said as they drove past the rodeo arena with its bucking chutes, bleachers and livestock holding pens. A group of men were practicing on their cutting horses, separating calves from a small herd and driving them one by one into a pen. Correction, several men and two women, Dallas observed upon closer inspection.

She wouldn’t mind getting pictures of the women. Maybe she’d ask Conner to stop briefly on their way out if the group was still practicing.

“Not too much happening this time of day.” Conner aimed the truck onto a long, straight dirt road, at the end of which were the pastures where the mustangs were kept. “If you want some photos of calf roping or bull riding, there should be a decent turnout tonight. Guys practicing for tomorrow’s jackpot.”

“Will you be working the jackpot?”

“Yeah. I fill in for Clay during events and on weekends. When Gavin doesn’t need me.”