Page 48 of The Cowboy's Redemption
He hoped he was right about why she’d come to Grand, and it nearly killed him to stay away, but the last time he’d approached her before a race, things had gone sideways. He could wait to find out.
He doubted he’d ever recover from the terror of watching her go down underneath a horse that had proven too unpredictable for her to handle. If she’d taken a hoof to the head—if a broken rib had pierced a lung or cut the aorta—matters might have been worse. Riders in similar situations had died.
But she’d sold the horse, proving she wasn’t too stubborn to see reason, which also led him to believe she’d given serious consideration to everything that he’d said. On the flip side, she’d agreed to accept Ford’s offer for her share of Otto’s business, so he wasn’t counting his chickens just yet.
Because he’d gone to the sound booth so early, he’d seen Dana and Tate sitting in the bleachers together. He’d seen Tate hand Dana the baby—and he’d seen Dana accept him. His heart went all warm and fuzzy, grateful to Tate on Dana’s behalf, because Tate would have no idea how much the gesture would mean.
Someday, when Dana was ready, they’d talk about children, because he came from a big family, and there would be pressure. If she didn’t want them, then his family would have to respect that, and he’d run interference. But he loved kids and he’d like at least one.
Speaking of children…
A tiny hand tugged at his pantleg. Miles Decker, Tate’s husband, and his daughter Iris occupied the sound booth with him. Iris was two years old and had her famous dad’s brown hair, green eyes, and friendly nature.
“Up,” she said to Levi, because she wanted a better view of the arena.
He obliged, lifting her to sit in the crook of his elbow so she could see. She hugged his neck with one arm, her attention on the action on the ground on the other side of the window, where the men’s barrel racing event was wrapping up.
Miles was standing beside them. A professional bull rider before joining the Endeavour Ranch, his famous face had been gouged by a bull’s horn during a photo shoot that ended his second career as an industry spokesman. His attention was drawn to the same place as Levi’s—in the bleachers, where his wife and son sat with Dana.
“It’s good to see them together,” Miles said, indicating the two women. The damaged side of his face didn’t smile as deeply as its mate anymore but expressed the same level of pleasure all the same.
“They have some issues to work through,” Levi agreed.
“I never met Tanner. From what I’ve heard, I can’t figure out if he was God or the devil.” Miles’s eyes lit with humor and the puckered smile deepened. “I think we know where Tate sits on that.”
“The truth is somewhere in between,” Levi said. “Maybe he leaned a little more toward the devil.”
Miles shrugged. “Most of us do.”
The two men chatted while Levi waited for the women’s event to begin. They’d both already checked out the bulls the stock contractor provided for the evening events and exchanged opinions on their breeding potential. Iris had a normal two-year-old’s attention span, and it wasn’t long before she’d had enough of Levi. She held out her arms to her father, and the transfer was made.
Then, the barrel racing began.
Miles, seeing he’d lost Levi’s attention, patted his shoulder. “Talk to you later. We’re off to find Tate.”
Levi didn’t notice them leave. Dana’s name was announced, and he had a moment of fear. She was riding a horse with little to no arena experience.
When she and Tanoa came out of the gate, however, almost instantly, he relaxed. They looked good. Tanoa paid attention. She didn’t fight to take charge.
Levi didn’t wait to see how their time compared to the record. The Endeavour arena was new and its record time only so-so. That was why the ranch offered large prize money—to attract the top talent.
As soon as the rider and horse came around the last barrel and were headed for home, he ran for the door. He planned on intercepting Dana before she finished cooling Tanoa down and returned her to the stable.
He hadn’t fully decided on what he would say.
But as he plunged through the crowd in the breezeway and charged into the alleyway, he discovered he had lots of time to figure it out, because she’d already been cornered by a blogger from the local news outlet.
He worried for all of two seconds.
Six months ago, Dana had been aloof with the press in a manner the public translated as tragic. Not anymore. He was happy to stand on the sidelines and let her reveal this new and improved version of Lady Dana to the rodeo world. He was curious to see it himself.
“How does Tanoa compare to Lady?” the blogger asked.
“Like apples to oranges,” Dana said, stroking Tanoa’s cheek, which hovered above her shoulder. “You’re asking me to compare a veteran to a rookie. One thing they do have in common is heart. They’re both eager to please.”
“You had a bad fall in October. How does it feel to be riding again, especially on a new horse? How do you feel about selling Crackerjack?”
The spiral curls of her ponytail spilled over her shoulder as she leaned into the microphone and smiled for the camera. “Fantastic on all counts. Crackerjack and I weren’t reading each other’s signals. He connects much better with his new owner and they’re going to do great things together. Tanoa and I are off to a great start with a promising partnership, so it’s all working out for the best. A little tumble was worth it to get us all to this place.”
