To Tame a Cowboy

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

Twenty Years Ago

Piper Kindred was so sick of being snubbed by the girls who thought the only things worth talking about were their lip gloss shades and where they got their new outfit. She was also sick of being disrespected by the boys who didn’t quite know how to handle her so they just ignored her.

Where did she fit in? God, she hated school. Even the third grade sucked. She’d switched schools so she didn’t have friends yet, but seriously, if this was how the rest of the year would go, she’d rather be home riding her horse or learning to rope. School was overrated anyway.

Especially considering that at recess for the past two days all she’d heard were brats mocking her. Today was no different.

“Look at her belt buckle.”

“What kind of name is Piper, anyway?”

“Dude, did you see that clown hair?”

Piper rolled her eyes at the annoying kids trying to get on her nerves. It was working, but she’d never let them know it.

She’d heard enough crap from other kids about her name and her wardrobe. So she liked plaid flannel and cowgirl boots; she was Walker Kindred’s daughter. Didn’t they know he was a legend? Morons. Didn’t even know her father was pretty much a celebrity.

And the hair comments they kept tossing her way? Yeah, there was hardly a day that went by she didn’t have to hear something about “carrot top” or “finger in a light socket” or “Bozo the Clown.” So it was red and curly. To be honest, she liked being different from all these other stupid kids.

“Don’t let them get to you.”

Piper spun around on the playground. A boy at least a head taller than her stood with his thumbs hanging in his belt loops. He had a head full of messy dark brown hair and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. And he was wearing a flannel shirt. Obviously they were the only two cool kids.

“I’m not letting them get to me,” she told him, lifting her chin in defiance. “I don’t care about those smelly boys or this dumb school.”

He laughed. “My name is Ryan Grant. Thought you could use a friend if you were tired of playing alone.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. Those losers have no idea how awesome this belt buckle is,” she told the boy. “My dad got it for me when he won the PRCA title last year.”

The boy stepped forward, his brows raised. “Your dad won the PRCA title?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to make friends.”

Piper shoved her hands onto her hips and glared at the annoying kid. “I don’t have to lie at all because my father is the coolest man ever. There’s not a bronc he can’t ride.”

Okay, probably there was, but still. Her dad was the coolest and he got paid for riding and being a cowboy. Could any of those other loser kids say that?

“What’s your dad’s name?” Ryan asked, obviously still skeptical.

“Walker Kindred.”

Ryan laughed. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t care what you think. My name is Piper Kindred and Walker is my father. Like you know anything about the rodeo anyway. You probably don’t even know what PRCA stands for.”

“Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association,” he shot back. “And I know who Walker Kindred is.”

“Then why do you say I’m lying?”

“Because, well...you’re a girl. I’ve never seen a girl who knows about the rodeo.”

Why were boys so dumb? For real?

Piper sighed, so ready to be done with recess and get back inside where she could just concentrate on her schoolwork and get another miserable day behind her.

“Whatever,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “I don’t care what you think if you’re going to be just as stupid as the others.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “Okay, since you got to ask me a rodeo question, I get to ask you one. I bet you can’t answer it.”

Piper had had enough. She clenched her fist and plowed it into his nose. When he landed on his butt on the blacktop, she loomed over him.

“I don’t have time for jerks who think I’m lying,” she told him. “I’ve grown up around the circuit. Walker is my father and if you have any more stupid things to say, I have another fist waiting on you.”

Ryan shook his head and came back to his feet. Surprisingly, he was grinning.

“You pack a mean punch, even if you are a girl.”

Piper eyed him. Apparently that was a compliment.

“You wanna hang after school?” he asked, holding his hand to his nose then looking at it to see if he was bleeding.

Piper figured they’d just made some sort of bond so she nodded. “Sure, but don’t think just because I’m a girl that I don’t know everything about the rodeo.”

Ryan laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Red.”

She sighed and headed toward the double doors as the bell rang for them to go back inside.

If the worst he called her was Red, he might just become her one and only friend.

One

Piper Kindred did a double take at the black sports car. Her heart sank, bile rising in her throat. No, it couldn’t be.

Oh, sweet mercy. There was no way this massive accident would have no casualties. Wreckage lay crushed with mangled pieces across the median, shattered glass scattered along the stretch of highway, a black BMW on its top and a large tractor-trailer on its side, blocking both lanes of traffic.

As a paramedic, Piper had seen plenty of wrecks, fatalities and gut-wrenching scenes, but nothing settled fear as deep within her as seeing the familiar car that was so often in her driveway...the car that belonged to her best friend, Ryan Grant.