Page 11 of The Cowboy's Downfall
“You’ll be the only girl in the clinic, Taryn,” he said, careful to use her real name, which he’d do from now on. No more stupid slips of the tongue. “Which makes you trouble for me, but that’s not your problem. Come on.”
He escorted her into the shed where the equipment was stored. It killed him that it killed him to leave her older sister with Ford, who had the blond, blue-eyed looks, the size, and the temperament of his marauding Norse ancestors going for him. Women went nuts for that type.
But the shed was only twenty feet away and there was no need for everyone to crowd into the small space.
Taryn listened with genuine interest as he showed her the things she’d need—a bull rope with a braided-leather handle, spurs, a padded vest, a leather riding glove, chaps, and a helmet. She asked the usual questions.
“No, the strap doesn’t hurt the bull,” he said. “It’s no different than you wearing a belt. It might irritate them a bit, but if you don’t have something to hold onto, it’s gonna be a pretty short ride. Fifty percent of your score comes from your bull. If the one you draw is too quiet, a rider will use the spurs to get a little more action out of him. They make him mad—they don’t hurt him. You don’t have to buy them if you don’t want to wear them.”
“Does it hurt if you fall off?”
“When, not if,” he said. She sounded more curious than anxious, so he was honest. “Yes, it hurts. But we’ll teach you some tricks to keep it from hurting too much. Knees take a fall hard. You want to avoid landing on them. And your first concern is always getting out of the bull’s way. Worry about what hurts after that.”
He could smell her shampoo. Some sort of perfumy stuff that she’d overdone. The kind a teenager would use. He wondered uneasily how they’d come to be standing so close. He’d been thinking a little too much about her sister, and how she and Ford might be getting along.
And then he worried that someone might walk in and misunderstand what was happening here. He resisted the urge to back up only because he’d hurt Taryn’s feelings once already today and there was no need to make a big deal out of nothing. She was seventeen and likely not thinking about how inappropriate this looked.
“Thank you,” Taryn said. She brushed the back of his hand with the tips of her fingers. Her smile lingered on him. Boldly.
“For what?”
His throat was too dry, and he’d croaked the words out. The air in the shed had turned hot and oppressive. The kind of air that signaled an approaching tornado. Maybe the end of the world. Her cousin the sheriff, and her sister the lawyer, were on the other side of that door. He could hear the muffled sound of their voices, if not their words.
“For being so sweet to me.”
He wasn’t trying to be sweet. He was explaining equipment to a potential student. That was it. Nothing more.
“I can sign up for private lessons if you’d rather,” she added. “If having a woman in the same class with boys is a problem for you, I mean.”
Oh, it was a problem. A really big problem.
In a way he hadn’t foreseen.
Chapter Four
Shauna
Shauna kept asharp watch on the shed door, because even though Nix didn’t give off a predator’s vibe, first impressions were no guarantee.
So, when he emerged from the shed with a wild look in his eyes, she took note. But while he looked like a man who’d inadvertently witnessed a murder, Taryn, for her part, appeared almost smug.
Shauna was torn. As a guardian to a minor, she was obliged to find out what had happened. As a sister to a juvenile delinquent with questionable impulse control, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Maybe that crazed look was natural for him. She’d only met him the once.
The wild look hadn’t quite disappeared by the time he rejoined the group at the pen, although it had faded to the point no one else seemed to take notice.
Taryn, an adorable blonde bundle of blue-eyed, innocent, fairy-tale cuteness, smiled sweetly. “I’d love to see someone ride a bull before I buy the equipment. Could one of you give me a demonstration?”
Inside Shauna’s head she was rolling her eyes. If her little sister’s plan was to manipulate grown men who should know better—including their idiot cousin Dan, the sheriff, who knew why she’d been exiled to Montana—it seemed to be working.
Dan looked at Levi. “What do you say?”
“It’ll take a few minutes to set up.” Levi’s critical gaze scanned the young bulls in the pen. “Miles, you game for a ride?”
Miles thumbed the brim of his hat and eyed the bulls with a good humor that tugged the scar on his cheek into a charming grin. “You mean on one of these babies? Why not ask Nix? They look more his speed.”
“I’d love to ride,” Nix said. “Since you’re too scared. Just remember, though—if anything happens to me, you’re the one who’ll end up running the clinic.”
“I guess that settles that, then.” Miles slapped his hands together and rubbed his palms. “Which one is mine?”
