Page 49 of Catch Me, Cowboy
He pulled her up on top of him. They could—no, theywould—continue this conversation later.
Chapter Eleven
On the morningof the rodeo, two days after Shelby and Ty made love, Shelby set a cup of coffee beside Gramps’s breakfast plate, then headed off to the living room to call Paul Barlow. She’d tried to call him twice before, but he hadn’t answered and he hadn’t responded to her voice mails. But this time the phone only rang twice before a cheerful feminine voice said hello.
“Hi. Blake?”
“Yes?”
“This is Shelby O’Connor.”
“Of course! How is Evarado? Is he coming along?”
Blake sounded so cluelessly happy that Shelby almost hated to tell her the truth. “Not as fast as one would hope. You see… he has issues.”
“Yes. I know.”
Okay… “He’s nine-years-old, which means he’s kind of set in his ways. It’s going to take a lot of time to get him to where he’s… trustworthy.”
“Do you need to keep him longer? It’s only been a couple of weeks, but if you think that more time would help…”
“It’s not so much a question of time as temperament.” Shelby waited a moment, to allow Blake to soak that in. “He’s never going to be a sweet horse. The kind of horse I picture someone developing a close relationship with.” Because Shelby had a feeling Blake wanted a horse that she could love like a dog.
“But with time—”
“Blake… he’s never going to be a sweet, dependable mount.”
There was a long, long silence, and then Blake said, “But he’s improving.”
“A lot,” Shelby said truthfully. “And he could get to the point where perhaps you could sell him to an expert rider and recoup your money.”
“Sell him?”
“It’s something to consider.”
Another long silence and then Blake said, “I want to do what’s best for Evarado. Please keep working with him and we can talk again when the thirty days are up.”
Shelby felt a surge of relief, right up until Blake added, “You never know… he might end up just perfect for a little time and patience.”
“I’ll give you a call when the thirty days are up,” Shelby said.
At least she’d planted the seed—and gotten permission to carry on, with the owner knowing full well that selling might be their best option. That was huge and it put her in a better mood as she contemplated her day ahead.
Let’s see—her comeback roping event, in which she’d either choke or she wouldn’t, in front of a hometown crowd. Ty’s comeback event, in which he’d either get creamed or not, before a hometown crowd.
The better mood began to stall out. Funny how the roping had seemed like such a huge deal when she agreed to it, and now it was more of a minor blip on her stress radar. And if, like Wyatt said, she roped best when she was worried about other matters, then they would catch that steer in record time.
Shelby came back into the kitchen and poured both her and her grandfather refill coffees. “I have to leave in half an hour so that I have time to warm up. Will you be ready by then?”
“I’ll drive myself in later.” He’d already told her that he wasn’t going in early for the parade, which was a first, and he hadn’t wanted to go into Marietta for the Friday night festivities either, which had her wondering.
“Are you sure your knees are up to driving?”
Gramps set down his coffee cup hard enough to slosh the contents. “I’m able to drive.”
He’d gotten damned prickly and defensive since his near fall in the living room the day before.
“If your knees are bothering you,” Shelby continued, “you shouldn’t stress them with that stubborn clutch. You know you can catch a ride with a neighbor and then come home with me.” That way she didn’t have to go to the street dance if she didn’t feel like it. Between her and Gramps, they were missing out on everything that made the Copper Mountain Rodeo weekend so much fun.
