A Cowboy's Claim

“Whatever you want to call it. Beau doesn’t have your smarts.”

Damn, Tanya was good for his ego.

“A lot of cowboys study the way you ride, but none of them, including Beau, has ever picked up on the way you hold the buck rein.” She smiled. “But I did.”

Learning that his competition paid close attention to his performances was unnerving. He’d rather believe the cowboys were just watching to see if he’d fall on his head. “What about the buck rein?”

“Most of the guys prefer a thicker, tightly braided rein and a full handgrip. But your buck rein is loosely braided and you hold it between your third and fourth fingers.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I know.” Her eyes sparkled. “I also noticed that you feed extra rein to the horse when his head drops too low.”

“Everybody has their own technique.”

“True, but the thick rein is less flexible.” She sucked her drink dry. “Beau tried to copy you, but he never got the hang of it. Now you’re just stuck in his head.”

“I had a little help early on in my career.”

“From who?”

“A friend.” He didn’t want to go into detail about his relationship with Riley Fitzgerald. Vic liked to keep his past private. No one needed to know he’d been raised in one of the most dangerous barrios in Albuquerque.

“Ladies and gentlemen, up next is Beau Billings!” A throng of women screamed the cowboy’s name and held up signs with their phone numbers on them. Vic found it amusing that Tanya appeared unfazed by her ex-husband’s fan club.

“What?” she asked.

He struggled not to grin. He hadn’t been tempted to smile this often in one day let alone one month since he suffered the injury to his face.

“Beau Billings hails from Sierra Vista, Arizona, and right now this cowboy is ranked number sixteen in the country.” The announcer’s voice echoed through the sound system. It was time for Vic to leave, but he was reluctant to say goodbye—a first for him. Tanya was the only woman in longer than he could remember who appeared relaxed in his company. It would be too easy to let his guard down.

Vic watched Billings prepare for his ride. He paced in front of the chute, his strides short and choppy. The man was nervous. He’d drawn a better bronc than Vic, so his chances of earning a higher score were his for the taking.

“Billings has been paired with Shake Down, a three-year-old gelding from the Dale Anderson Ranch near Big Piney. Let’s see if this cowboy can beat Vicario’s eighty-nine.”

Billings straddled the bronc, and Vic’s gaze zeroed in on the buck rein. The cowboy played with his grip and the horse grew nervous in the chute.

“He takes too long,” Tanya said. “You take ten seconds max.”

Obviously she’d been watching Vic perform for a while. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. The chute opened and Shake Down lunged into the arena. The horse landed awkwardly on his front hooves and Billings had to fight from the get-go to keep from being bucked off. The bronc couldn’t find its rhythm and Billings’s spurring was erratic—the perfect combination for a low score.

The buzzer rang and Billings jumped for safety. “Looks like Shake Down gave our cowboy a run for his money today. Let’s see what the judges think.” The crowd applauded, but the noise level had dropped noticeably. Rodeo fans knew the difference between a great ride and a mediocre one. Billings’s performance had been average at best.

“An eighty-five for Billings! Better luck next time, cowboy!”

Billings spotted Tanya and Vic in the stands and his scowl deepened. As much as Vic enjoyed Tanya’s company, it was time to part ways. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Sure. See you...somewhere.” Her smile was genuine—not flirty.

Good thing or he’d have been tempted to scratch his ride later in Livingston and spend the night in a motel room with Tanya.

* * *

TANYA WATCHED VIC’S backside disappear into the crowd. She’d spent thirty-five minutes with him, which was thirty minutes longer than she thought he’d put up with her. Vic was a loner and Beau wasn’t the first cowboy to have nothing good to say about him. But Tanya found his quiet personality a nice break from the braggarts on the circuit. And she’d felt a sense of camaraderie with Vic—her competition hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms, either. They’d given her weird stares and stilted greetings as if they wished she’d remained retired from the sport—not because she was any real threat but because of the attention she and Slingshot drew at the rodeos.

A car accident had ended Tanya’s barrel-racing career before she’d been ready to call it quits. She blamed Beau’s cheating for robbing her of that last season. It had taken months for her to recover from her injuries and put her failed marriage behind her once she’d signed the divorce papers. Now she was back on the circuit to say a final goodbye to the sport.

“What the hell are you doing with Vicario?” Beau walked—rather limped—toward Tanya.

Ignoring the question, she asked, “Did you sprain your knee?” Beau had been cursed with weak joints to go along with his weak morals.

“Don’t change the subject.”

Beau didn’t love her anymore—if he ever did. But he was a sore loser. He’d fought the divorce tooth and nail, suggesting marriage counseling, but she’d refused. Once a cheater, always a cheater. She made a move to step past him, but he snagged her arm.

“What’s with you and Vicario?”

“None of your business.”

“The man has ice in his veins, Tanya. You don’t know anything about him. Nobody does.”

“We’re divorced.” She planted her hands on her hips. “That means you don’t get a say in which men I choose to date, kiss or have sex with.”

Beau’s jaw dropped and Tanya cringed when she noticed the attention they’d drawn. Typical Beau—always making a scene.

“When are you and that dumb horse of yours going to call it quits?” Beau’s self-esteem grew when he made other people and animals feel worthless. “You and Slingshot are the laughingstock of the circuit.”

She’d listened to enough of his crap. Without a word—because Beau hated it when she didn’t fight back—she headed to the stock pens to find her stepfather. He intercepted her halfway there.

“Tanya!” Mason Coldwater was in his early sixties and she’d known him since she’d been a young girl. “We need to head home.”

“I thought you wanted to stay for the bull riding?” She followed him out to the parking lot and got into his brand-new Lincoln.

“Your horse is causing trouble again.” He started the engine and flipped on the air-conditioning.

“What has he done now?” she asked.

“Jumped the damned fence. Took forever for Raymond to catch him. And when he put Slingshot in the barn, the horse kicked the stall door down.”

“Next time I’ll—”

“There shouldn’t be a next time, Tanya.” After Mason merged onto the highway, he said, “You’re a horse trainer. Not a barrel racer anymore. I need you at the farm. Raymond’s not working out.”

Raymond Gonzales was the trainer Mason had hired to replace Tanya after she began rodeoing earlier in the year. “Ray has a solid reputation.”

“Come back to the farm and help Raymond. Then if you still want to compete next year, I’ll help you choose a decent horse.”

It wouldn’t matter how many Red Rock horses Mason offered her, he’d find an excuse to bring her back home. She understood his and her mother’s fear that she’d injure her leg again. The surgeon had warned that if she broke her left leg again, she might end up walking with a permanent limp. The rehab had been so painful that Tanya hadn’t given a thought to competing again until Slingshot had ended up at the farm. The stubborn horse had convinced Tanya that not only did he deserve a second chance to prove himself, but so did she.