Page 94 of Wrangled Up

Chapter Thirteen

Claire held her breath while the judge passed by Letty’s canned wares two times…three times. Christian squeezed her hand in support.

A tremble ran through her, and he knew she was more excited that Letty might win than she had been at receiving that blue ribbon for Boom Boom.

Well, he hoped that both of his favorite women won today.

The judge licked his lips and used the small spoon to sample Letty’s sauce once more. Then he swished some water around his mouth and walked five paces to another woman’s sauce. He repeated his ritual.

“Jesus, just pick her already. It’s the best up there,” Tucker muttered, kicking at the only bit of dry earth within the fairgrounds.

Claire shot him a grin then returned her attention to the judge. The man was just abusing his power, as far as Christian was concerned. He wasn’t singlehandedly choosing the next American President.

“C’mon, judge. It’s obvious who the winner is!” The holler left Christian’s lips before he realized he was about to do it.Guess Claire’s impulsiveness has rubbed off.

Claire snapped around to stare at him and Tucker broke into hysterical laughter. Seated at the long table, her hat primly seated atop her tiny skull, Letty grinned. She and Christian’s gazes met. In that instant, he knew he had her on his side and might never have to resort to eating brains again.

Well, maybe once in a while, just to keep her happy.

“And the winner is…” A long, drawn-out pause ensued. Letty squirmed. Claire was an electrical current coursing through a fence wire.

“On with it,” Tucker called.

The judge gave him a steely eye. “The winner is number fourteen, Letty Bishop.”

Claire squealed and surged out of Christian’s hold to reach the table. Letty stood and they embraced, rocking and bouncing together.

Tucker’s gaze was riveted to the women, just as Christian’s was. “Two ribbons won. I say we take our horses and head on home.”

Shock flitted through Christian. “What? Not show your horses?”

Tucker waved a hand. “I don’t need ribbons. I can sell them for top dollar without. I know two rodeo guys who want them right now.”

An hour later, the horses and Boom Boom were tucked in the trailer, and Letty’s prize-winning tomato sauce wrapped in quilts and in the trunk of her car. Her applesauce had taken second place, which had been fine enough for her.

During the drive home, Christian’s mind whirled with the events of the day. Learning that Claire had tried to keep Leon off Tucker’s back—the same way Christian had coerced Dale—didn’t set well with him.

He didn’t want Claire involved. Keeping her in her safe world was a necessity. And Tucker was right—they had to convince her toquit working at the diner and take on the ranch full time as her job.

For long minutes, Christian thought about how he could earn more from his side business but it wasn’t as if people were knocking down his door, demanding he trim their trees.

By the time he registered what he was seeing out the window, they were home.

He peered through the rain-spattered windshield, straining to understand the sight before him.

Claire slapped a hand against his thigh, leaning forward too. “Is that…?”

“Horses,” Tucker growled. He floored the truck and spun up gravel. It clinked off the bottom of the metal horse trailer. In seconds, they were in front of the barn. Tucker leaped from the truck and took off running.

Horses scattered. Alpacas skittered all over the yard and one was up in the pasture, running full tilt for the tree line.

“Leon—it’s gotta be.” That volcanic look that had once scared Christian crossed his lover’s face again. He exchanged a knowing nod with Tucker and they each grabbed one of Claire’s arms.

“Hey!” She dug her heels in as they dragged her toward the house.

“Just listen to us this once, sweetheart.” Christian eased his command by rubbing his thumb over the leaping vein in her wrist.

“No. I’m part of this ranch.” Her voice faltered and she swung her gaze toward Tucker.

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