A Cowboy's Heart

That knowledge didn’t help him out a bit. He was definitely in her personal space, and with no way out.

He found her in the arena, standing on a platform above a bull and strapping a training dummy to his back while she talked into the headset of her cell phone. Her brows drew together, and her lips tightened into a frown.

Obviously bad news.

He approached from her side, making sure she knew he was heading her way. She nodded and turned away, maybe to open the chute for the bull, maybe to avoid him. The gate on the chute opened, and the bull turned to face out, encouraged by the woman above his chute. A teenager, slight, and quick on his feet, stood in the arena, keeping the bull in a spin.

“Looks good. How old?” Clint leaned against the post next to Willow.

Her hand slid up her ear.

“I’m sorry?” She smiled.

“The bull looks good. How old is he?”

“He’s two. I’m not sure if he’s going to make it. He doesn’t like to buck.”

“Do you need my help? I can open the gate, strap on the dummy?”

A pointed look at his shoulder. “I don’t think you should.”

“Got it.” Help not needed. He had to find his place here. He had to apologize. “I’m sorry about the boys this morning.”

“They were being boys, Clint. They’re fine.” She leaned against the rail of the scaffolding next to the chute where the next bull was waiting. Her expression softened, because it was about two little boys. “How are they, though?”

“They’re okay.” He remembered their tears when Jenna left, and his own. They were all fine. And scared. “At least they’re here with me. We’ll get through.”

“If I can help…”

“You have.”

Another one of those looks he didn’t understand, and shadows in her blue eyes that could probably convince a man that she needed to be held. But he knew better than to step into her life. There was a world of difference between them.

She was designer clothes and gourmet meals. He was fast food and the clearance rack at Wal-Mart. And he liked his life. For the moment he looked a lot happier with this discount life than she looked with her top-drawer existence.

She turned away from him to watch the bull come out of the chute and then she shook her head. “Brian, run him through the gate, and we’ll get him something to eat. Bring Wooly in next.”

“Willow, if I’m going to live here, I really want to help out.”

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” She shot a pointed look at his shoulder, his arm still in a sling.

“Not yet. It’s an injury I’ve had before, and I know what to do.”

“So, you’ll be ready to ride bulls at the next event. Or are you going to call and let them know that you’ll be a no-show.”

“You know I can’t do that and stay on tour.”

“Then go to the doctor. If you can’t afford…”

“I can afford it.”

He sure didn’t need insults and charity.

“I’m sorry.” She picked up the training dummy that Brian had tossed onto the platform and leaned to put it on the new bull. “We’ll work together. I don’t know specific jobs to give you. I know each day what I need to get done. And if something unexpected comes up, I fit it into my schedule. I guess we start with you helping us with feeding time.”

Her phone rang and she smiled an apology and stepped away from him. At least now he knew how he stood, at the ranch, and in her world. He was one of the unexpected things she was fitting into her life.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” Willow walked away, knowing that Clint wasn’t the kind of guy to purposely listen in on a conversation, but knowing that if he heard, he would have questions.

The caller on the other end apologized for the bad connection. She closed her eyes, wishing it really was a problem with the phone. But the bad connection had nothing to do with cell service.

She glanced in Clint’s direction and saw him talking to Brian. Distracted, she had to gather her thoughts and listen to the caller as he told her something about a bull she had for sale.

“Sir, could you call me back on my home phone? Or perhaps e-mail.” She held her breath, praying he’d say yes and wondering if God heard such selfish prayers.

It wasn’t selfish, not really. Because God did understand her fear. She’d talked to Him about it quite a bit lately.

“I’ll e-mail.” The caller came through clearly for a moment, and she thanked him. She needed a break, a real break, the kind that meant things going smoothly for a few days.

Just a few days, time to gather herself and figure out her next move. She turned, facing Brian and Clint with a smile that felt strong. But eye contact with Clint wasn’t helping her feel strong. It was the way his lips quirked in a half grin and lines crinkled around his eyes.

He had a toothpaste-commercial smile that could make a girl dream of moonlit nights and roses. She no longer had those dreams.

“Where are the boys?” Neutral ground that felt safe, safer than holding his gaze.

“Janie is fixing them grilled cheese for supper, after she’s already filled them up with cookies.” He leaned to hold the dummy for Brian. “We’re going to the chili supper and carnival at church tonight.”

“Yes, she told me. That’s a good way to distract the boys. The next few days are going to be hard for them.”

“She told me you’re not going.”

She wondered if he understood what it meant to invade someone’s personal space. It wasn’t always done physically. Sometimes it was done emotionally, with nosy questions and interference. Maybe he didn’t care?

“No, I’m not going.”

“Because…”

She stepped away from him. “Because I don’t like chili.”

Because she didn’t like crowded places with too many conversations, explanations for people who talked in quiet tones, and curious glances from those who saw the hearing aids.

She loved bull riding, where people respected her and curiosity didn’t matter, because she had proven herself. She loved her non-hearing friends in Tulsa, because with them she could be herself.

He didn’t appear to be giving up. He had stepped closer and wore a persuasive half grin. She remembered him smiling like that when she’d been thirteen and he’d only been a year or so older. She had dreamed of that smile for a long, long time, wondering what it would be like to fall in love with a cowboy.

She shook off the old memories and listened to what he was saying now. Now, sixteen years and several rejections later, her heart had been broken so many times it was held together with duct tape.

“Everyone likes chili. Or at least they like it when they know there will be dozens of desserts, and the money is going to help the church youth group.”