The view fascinated Cole, from the wild bluebonnets and almost cloudless sky to the Black Angus dotting the green countryside. The McDougal ranch was stunning. He leaned against the split-log fence in the backyard of the cabin, drinking a cup of coffee, alone since Chantilly took Sarah to the main house to bake. The vibrant colors of summer beckoned him to return to his own ranch.
“So, what do you think about the McDougal spread?” Jack, Chantilly’s husband, leaned against the fence.
Older than Cole expected, Jack impressed him with the size of the ranch he and Chantilly ran on their own. Jack’s nephew had stopped in last night when he arrived home from law school. Cole understood Jack’s pride in his family and respected his soft-spoken ways.
“You’ve got a great setup. It’s an impressive herd of Angus.” Cole shifted and nodded toward Florentine’s brother-in-law, Sam. “Florentine’s commented that you run a sister herd. I’ll admit after seeing the benefits for the land, I might have to toss some Angus in the fields. Right now, I’m only running horses. They’re my sanity when I pull myself away from business.”
“Stop by anytime.” Sam shook Cole’s hand. “Jack and I might have a way to throw you some contracts. Once the wedding is over, we can talk.”
Jack punched Sam in the shoulder. “Hell, you’ll be so busy with the baby coming. I’ll have to sneak you away for a beer.”
“Harsh, man.” Sam’s grin replaced the I’ll-kick-your-ass expression Cole had seen before.
He couldn’t help smiling. He knew the excitement of having a new baby.
“So, you know Florentine’s chances better than we do going into the final round. Is our sister-in-law going to win?” Jack tilted his head, casting a shadow over his eyes.
Cole inhaled. He recognized a challenge when presented with one. The wrong answer would cut off any more talk of business between them. “She’s stubborn enough to win.”
The men laughed. He smiled, glad he’d played the neutral card.
He could deal with business transactions. It was the personal side of why he wanted out of the contract, yet learning more about Florentine unsettled him. More unsettling was his desire that she trust him and his motives, even though she had no reason to do so.
He'd had enough of thrill seeking women to last him a lifetime. So had his daughter.
Sometime between now and when Florentine went back to Wyoming, he had to figure out how to keep his business relationship with Florentine away from Sarah. He’d promised Sarah they could stay for the wedding and fireworks show, but he needed to protect her from getting any wild ideas. The thought of Sarah doing something as dangerous as bull riding left him weak-kneed and nauseous.
A fast movement flashed out of the corner of his eye. He set his cup on the fence post and squinted, making out a horse. The person on the back of the animal came into focus. Damn, woman. Florentine rode across the field hell bent for leather in his direction.
When he went to bed last night, he wondered what she’d do if he kissed her, but this morning, he questioned his sense. She represented everything he didn’t want in a woman. Headstrong, independent in the extreme, and dangerous. She risked her life without considering what it would do to her family if she were hurt.
She didn't slow the horse. Lean and strong, Florentine angled herself over the horse’s neck. Her hair billowed behind her in the wind, and the waving strands seemed to beckon him to follow. He sidestepped along the fence without taking his gaze off her until she whipped past him and headed for open fields, oblivious to him, her face a stiff mask of emotion.
Fear squeezed his heart. He fisted his hands, afraid to blink. There was no control, only complete abandonment as she let the horse lead the way. No longer surrounded in a cloud of confidence or controlling every move, she appeared to carry a deep burden he recognized well. Pain.
He leaned against the fence, breathing hard. One tumble and she’d end up right back in the hospital, throwing away her chance of ever getting back on another bull. He had to go to her before she hurt herself again.
He ran toward the barn and found Jack by the tractor.
“Hey, Jack. Would it be okay if I borrowed one of the horses for a bit?” he asked.
Jack eyed him. “What for?”
He held his arms out to the side. “That’s Florentine out there riding. Looked like she was upset.”
“She’s fine. I talked to her myself about a half hour ago.” Jack stared him down.
“Are you shittin’ me? You’re not upset that something could be wrong?” Cole realized Jack was serious and reined in his frustrations. “Has Chantilly talk to you about Florentine?”
Jack tipped his hat back. “Is there something going on I should know about?”
“No. I got it covered.” He glanced around the ranch yard. “I need to talk to Florentine.”
Jack pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Chuck is all saddled up and staked behind the barn, or you can pick your mount out of the stables. Watch out for the cross fencing. It’s barbed wire.”
Cole nodded. “Thanks, man.”
“Be gentle with her. She tends to act prickly, but we’ve all learned that she’s not so tough when it comes to her family. I imagine it was hard coming home and being reminded that Stuart’s gone and things have changed around here.” Jack slapped Sam on the back. “Come on. You can help me unload the feed.”
Cole found Chuck out back and hesitated beside him for a brief second before grabbing the horn of the saddle with his left hand and throwing his leg over. The horse reared and danced on its hind legs. Cole held tight to keep his seat until the horse accepted him on his back. He then clicked his tongue. He was probably going to arrive to a thunderstorm of attitude, but he couldn’t walk away and pretend he didn’t see Florentine going against the doctor’s orders.
He’d promised himself he would keep his distance as much as possible while she visited with her family and took time to heal. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to extricate himself from the contract. Then they could both go their separate ways.
But she was doing her damnedest to get herself killed.
The pain etched in her face concerned him more than he’d like to admit. He’d recognized the desperation in her riding posture. He’d done the same thing when he tried to outrun his nightmares.
Cole slowed the horse and continued at a trot. He scanned the green fields around him, but no sign of Florentine. At a loss for what direction she would’ve gone, he clicked his tongue and galloped toward the river.
Five minutes later, he found her horse standing in the tall grass eating his fill. He kicked his heels against Chuck and headed in the right direction. In no time, he slid out of the saddle and dropped the reins, assuming Jack trained his horse to ground tie. “Whoa, fella.”
He jogged through the grass toward the river. He swallowed, trying to draw moisture into his parched throat. He hoped there wasn’t a reason she wasn’t with the horse.
A muffled cry came from farther ahead, and his chest constricted. He pushed through the thigh-high blades. “Florentine?”
Cole zigzagged through the field, sending seedheads floating in the wind, frantically searching the ground. She never answered, yet the moaning continued. She was hurt, and he couldn't make out where she'd fallen. Then he spotted a bit of white hidden in a patch of bluebonnets ten feet to the west. Oh, shit.
Curled up on her side, Florentine’s body convulsed and her breaths were short and loud. He kneeled down and brushed the hair off her cheek. The way her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips parted in agony, he knew he'd only hurt her worse by touching her, but he had to find the injury.
He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Florentine?” He looked her over for torn clothes, blood, bumps, or anything else that might signify an injury. He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Did you fall?”
When she opened her eyes, it wasn't physical pain he saw etched into her face. Instead, he saw absolute sorrow, and it knocked every thought from his mind.
She shook her head, gasping with pent up sobs. He kneeled beside her. “Sh. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Seemingly unaware of him, she held herself tense as if her muscles were frozen into position. What was he supposed to do? When Sarah hurt herself, a few sweet words and a hug always stopped the tears. He had a feeling that wouldn’t touch Florentine’s pain.
“Listen to me, darlin’.” He briskly rubbed her arm. “Concentrate on my voice. You’ve got to calm down and let me know if you’re hurt.”
She shook her head. “N-no.”
“Okay. Good.” He blew out his breath, not sure what would help her, but knowing he had to do something. “You scared the daylights out of me.”
A sudden tear disappeared into her hairline.
Tilting his head to the side, he gazed at her face. “Please don’t cry.”
“I-I never—” She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed. “—cry.”
“Everybody cries.” He held her hand and rubbed her work-roughened knuckles with his thumb.
As if having permission to feel sorry for herself, Florentine leaned on him and cried into his shirt. He murmured comforting words, giving her time to fall apart and heal from whatever was bothering her. His throat tightened, and he inhaled deeply. He wanted to say and do the right thing, but he felt inadequate.
He was used to little girl tears. Those could be kissed away. Florentine’s tears wouldn’t cave, though. Her distress went much deeper than disappointment or scraped knees. Positive he couldn’t fix Florentine, he simply held her.
Over time, her body relaxed a smidgeon, though she still held tight to his shirt. He traced her hand with his finger. “That’s it. You’re going to be fine.”
He waited as the breeze dried her tears. She had a lot to stress over right now. The worry of putting on a tough mask for the PBRA and handling the season on her own couldn’t have been easy on her. Plus, she was still mourning her father. He laid his hand over hers. She was tiny compared to him, and fragile.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. In many ways, she reminded him of Theresa. He’d tried to help her too, but she’d grown distant during their marriage. Florentine held herself back from everyone. She was hurting, and he wanted to help her, say something and do anything to prove she could rely on him for support. Business was business, but what she needed was a friend.
“I don’t know what it is about the women I know...my daughter, too. Sometimes I think she enjoys making me worry. I’ve stayed up more nights than I can count, struggling over what she’s going to do next. For a bitty thing, she’s stubborn. I can almost bet your daddy had a tough time or two with you, too.” He paused. “Sarah’s done some doozies. I think the time she ran away will always be the scariest.”
Florentine wiped her face and gathered her composure. “What happened?”
Glad to see her responding, he nodded. “My older brother Pete and I were scheduled to meet the stock trailer in the western pasture to load up the horses we were shipping out. I told Sarah she had to stay with her grandpa at the house, but that girl's more hardheaded than anyone I’ve ever come across. She went to her room to play and learned how to unlock her bedroom window.
“She was only four at the time, but somehow she’d managed to push out the screen of her room. Then she took all her pillows, stuffed animals, and blankets, and she tossed them out her window.” He inhaled. “Of course, we didn’t figure out all this until she showed up at the stock trailer over a mile away from the house. The little troublemaker had used all that stuff to pad her fall when she jumped out the window, and she ran the whole way.”
He gazed down at Florentine. She no longer struggled for air but stared up at him. He didn’t dare move. The only thing that seemed to calm her down was when he talked. If he had to keep telling her nonsense until he ran out of oxygen, he would.
“You know how dangerous it is when you’re loading wild horses. It’s nowhere a little child should be, so when I turned and saw her bouncing between the dancing hooves without a care in the world, I thought my heart would stop. One wrong step, and...” He cleared his throat. “After I scooped her up onto the horse with me, all I could do was hold her tight and thank my lucky stars she wasn’t hurt. I came real close to losing her that day.”
“I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” She sat up.
He shrugged his shoulder. “She scared ten years off my life, but you know what she said to me? She said, ‘Daddy, I was lonely without you. I wanna help put them sonsabitches in the trailer today.’”
Florentine laughed, a small, surprised ha!
Cole grinned. “That afternoon, I installed childproof locks on all the windows and set an empty mason jar on the table for me to use every time I cussed in front of my daughter. It’s going toward her college fund. I figure by the time she’s eighteen, she’ll probably be able to skip school altogether and retire.”
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “Did she ever sneak away again?”
He missed the heat and softness of holding her. He nodded. “She’s always after some adventure. I’m hoping she grows out of it before she hits her teen years.”
“She will. Then you’ll have boys to contend with.”
He glowered. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Are you doing okay now?”
“I’ll be fine. Really. It was just being back home, the ride, and then I got to thinking about my dad. I miss him. I guess everything hit me at once.”
“I’m getting tired of hearing your version of fine.” He stared her down, but she didn’t look away. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
She flushed red. “Of course I am. I’m perfectly capable of riding a sound ranch horse that I trust. It’s safer than driving a car. You go way overboard with your concerns over my safety, cowboy. You need to chill.”
“You’re gonna end up killing yourself.”
She stood. “I’m sure you’d like that. At least you’d have an excuse not to sponsor me.”
“The hell I would.” He pushed off the ground and stood. “Dammit. Can’t you think before you go off and do something stupid?”
All the fear and apprehension he’d held inside coiled into anger at the stupidity of her riding willy-nilly with no thought of the harm she could’ve caused herself. He spun around before he said something he regretted.
“Cole?” She softly laid her hand on his back. “Thanks for—”
He rounded on her, shooting down her gratitude. He wanted to tell her how much she scared him. He wanted her to know what he felt thinking she had fallen off the horse and injured herself again. He wanted her to feel all his pent up frustration. The words stuck in his throat, and what he wanted transformed to need at the look of innocent surprise she wore.
He slipped his arm around her waist and dragged her tight against him.
“Cole?”
His mouth covered hers. His tongue moved against hers, to taste, to express, to stop the insanity. His body quivered from the distress and desperation bombarding him. Would he never have this moment with her in his arms again? If he held her long enough, would she breathe life back into him?
He kissed her harder, and she stretched, grabbing the front of his shirt in her hand. Emotionally raw, he sought her strength, her drive, and pushed away every doubt of his own rationality. He only wanted to remember this exact moment when they kissed.
When she melted against him, rational thought intervened, and he grabbed it before it could flit away. He dragged himself back. “You broke the contract.”