The Rodeo Rider

His broad shoulders moved in a shrug under her hand. “All depends on how good you are.”

“And how good are you?”

A spark of fire lit his eyes. “Good, darlin’. Real good.”

She couldn’t read what she saw in his eyes. Was it the gleam of a need for danger? Or was it something else?

“About the other night…” she began.

“Thanks for helping us out.” The hard set to his jaw told her he thought she’d interfered when she shouldn’t have, but he quickly relaxed. “Tell me a little about what Beth said, how you work with troubled kids.”

She wasn’t sure this was the time or place, but she had opened the door herself almost a week ago after the rodeo. It was worth a try. “I’ve seen so many children slip through the cracks,” she said, “and I feel that most of them can be helped. All it takes is the right person finding something they’re passionate about and helping them on their way. Sometimes that means taking them out of their environment and putting them into one that’s more beneficial, or helping their own family make the current one better. Most of all they need someone who will listen and give them the compassion and understanding they need.”

“That’s mighty intuitive of you. How does being a lawyer help?”

She looked up to see him studying her. Taking a deep breath, she let it out with a sigh. “You’d be surprised how often it doesn’t, so now I do double duty. In my spare time, I’m what’s called a court-appointed child advocate and work with one child at a time, making him or her my total focus, not just the focus of the law.”

“Then you’re already fully involved in this?”

Nodding, she smiled. “I have been for nearly a year and a half.”

When the music stopped, so did their dance. Jules felt a twinge of disappointment when he returned her to Michael and Beth with a friendly, “Have a nice evening, darlin’,” and walked away. Tanner O’Brien stirred just enough curiosity for her to hope they’d run into each other again. Not to mention a few other stirrings she tried not to think about. This was not the time to let attraction get the better of her. But she found herself too often searching for him the rest of the evening, to no avail.

JULES LOOKED OUT the window of Beth’s Jeep to see Oklahoma City disappear behind them and the open countryside fill the landscape. “Where did you say we’re going?”

“I got a call early this morning for some help with a heifer having a breech birth. Not fun, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

Jules turned to look at her. “I don’t have to watch, do I?”

“Not unless you want to.” Beth gave her a quick grin before returning her attention to the road. “I thought you might want to visit a real cattle ranch.”

“We do raise cattle in Kansas, Beth. Or have you forgotten? You sound as if I was raised in New York City.”

“I don’t recall you paying much attention to the farms and ranches around home.”

“I spent a lot of time at your place when we were kids,” Jules reminded her. “I know horses, even if I can’t ride anymore, and it’s not like I’ve never seen livestock. I have many memories of the two of us feeding and watering the chickens, gathering eggs and a lot of other things.”

Beth’s laughter rang out. “Chickens aren’t exactly livestock. And I spent more time with you at your house or out having fun.”

“And getting into trouble,” Jules said, laughing. She had wonderful memories of the times she and Beth had spent together when they were young. Until she’d met Beth, her life had revolved around horses. Then the accident had happened and she’d met Beth. She still remembered their first meeting in the hospital, and even though Beth had been released long before she had, Beth visited nearly every day and encouraged her throughout her therapy.

Jules’s eyes stung with tears at the memory. “If it hadn’t been for you, I might not have made it.”

“You’d have done fine.” Beth’s smile was soft. “It might have taken a little more time, but sooner or later you’d have come through it. You’ve always been strong.”

“Maybe,” Jules answered, uncertain. But whether or not the notion was true, she’d always be grateful for their friendship.

The countryside rolled by, broken only by the occasional farm or ranch. The air was clear and fresh, still cool, but warming with the morning sun. All in all, it was a picture postcard of rural serenity. When they took a turn onto a narrow dirt lane, Jules looked up to read the carved sign above the wooden arch above them. Rocking O.

“Is this a big ranch?” she asked Beth as the Jeep tires spewed dust behind them.

“Not as big as some, but not small, either,” Beth answered with a shrug. “Successful, though.”

“And they raise cattle?”

Beth’s eyes slid to her and back to the road again. “A few horses. I’m sure if you’d like to try—”

“Chickens?” Jules asked.

Beth laughed and brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a sprawling, two-story, white farmhouse. “I’m not sure,” she said, switching off the engine. “You can ask Bridey, if you’re really interested.”

Jules admired the house, with a lawn that resembled green velvet and the many old trees that provided shade in just the right places. A quick glance around the rest of the ranch told her that whoever kept it looking so well did so with love.

A woman she guessed to be in her early sixties emerged from the house and walked toward them. Beth climbed out of the Jeep and reached for her bag behind the seat. “Morning, Bridey,” she called.

“Mornin’, Beth,” the woman greeted her, hurrying to help her with her things. “They’re in the barn. They were there most of the night.”

Nodding, Beth started to walk away, then snapped her fingers and spun around. “I nearly forgot,” she told Bridey with a grin. “Would you mind showing my friend, Jules, around the ranch?”

A beautiful smile lit the woman’s round face. “I’d be happy to. You just see what you can do to get that calf out into the world.”

If it hadn’t been for the woman’s smile, Jules would have stayed in the Jeep, but the warmth in it, and in the bright blue eyes, drew her out of the vehicle. “Hello,” she said, walking around the hood and offering her hand. “I’m Jules Vandeveer. Beth and I have been friends since we were kids.”

The woman wiped her hands on a yellow gingham apron before taking her hand. “Bridey Harcourt. I figure you don’t want to go into the barn with Beth for a reason. No harm in that. Can’t say I blame you, either.”

“This is a lovely ranch,” Jules said as Bridey led her to an area enclosed by a tall, white post and rail fence leading from a matching white barn with green trim.

“My brother built it when he was first married. He’s gone now, but his boy has kept it looking nice. Takes some work, though.”

“I’m sure it does.” Up ahead, Jules noticed a young teen bouncing on the back of a horse inside the fenced area.

“That’s my great nephew,” Bridey explained, the pride showing on her face. “One of these days he’ll win Nationals, just like his uncle will soon.”

“Nationals?”

Bridey answered without looking at her, her attention on the boy. “National Finals Rodeo.”

Jules watched the youngster bounce a few seconds longer, before he flew in the air and landed with a thud in the dirt. Her heart hit her throat as a gasp escaped her, and she stood frozen, fearing the worst.

“He’s all right, miss,” the woman said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Getting thrown off Temptation is a daily occurrence for him.”

Jules wasn’t so sure until she saw him push himself to his knees and stand. She had a better view of him as he brushed himself off, and she was surprised when she recognized him as the teenager who’d been with Tanner. She’d wondered at the time if he had a mother. And if Tanner had a wife. She hadn’t mentioned the incident to Beth, so she had no way of knowing. Even after dancing with him, she hadn’t asked about a wife, knowing Beth wouldn’t have encouraged the dancing if he had. And Beth had definitely encouraged it.

“Shawn, come over here and meet Beth’s friend,” Bridey called to him.

The boy looked up. Even from the distance, Jules could see the scowl on his face. With obvious reluctance, he walked toward them, a decided swagger in his gait. He stopped just short of the fence and glared at Jules. She knew that posture well, but it didn’t bother her. Usually it was nothing more than a cover for shyness.

“Miss Vandeveer, this is my grandnephew, Shawnee O’Brien. Shawn—”