Claiming Her Cowboy

“Donated by a local carpenter.”

“Is Dub the only one riding inside of there?”

“Yes. He’s the only child under ten on this trip.”

“Was that in my honor? Because he’s my buddy?”

“You flatter yourself.” She tipped the brim of her straw Stetson lower against the sun. “Dub’s entire ranch family is on the trail ride. House parents included. We thought it would be good for him to join us.”

“There are lots of things for a little kid to get into on a camping trip. Accidents happen when you least expect them.”

“Sounds like you have firsthand knowledge. Care to share?”

Jack stiffened. No, he wasn’t ready to bare his soul to a woman he hardly knew. A woman he was supposed to be investigating. He shook his head and glanced away.

“He knows the rules, Jack. And he’s going to stick to you like...well, you know.”

“Terrific. He’s not going to be in my tent, is he?”

“No, he’s sleeping with two of his ranch brothers.”

“What exactly is the point of this trip?”

“The point?” She released a breath and stared at him, hands on the saddle horn. “Does everything have to have a point?”

“Yes. You’re utilizing plenty of ranch resources. Donated resources. I’m trying to understand the value.”

“Jack, it’s about planting seeds. Sometimes you can’t see the harvest. You have to trust that by doing what you are called to do, what this ranch is called to do, the harvest will be there.”

“How does the trail ride fit into your harvest?”

“First and foremost, this is all about fun. Think like a kid for a minute, instead of an attorney. These are children who are accustomed to going to bed on broken glass, emotionally. In their former life, they went to sleep uncertain what tomorrow would bring. We promise them that they don’t have to think about tomorrow. They can simply be kids.” Her chocolate eyes continued to pin him.

Against his better judgment, he paused to consider her words. Just be a kid? He hadn’t been “just a kid” since that summer so long ago. Jack raised his head and met her gaze. Words refused to come.

Lucy sighed when he didn’t respond. “Ah, Jack, you don’t understand.” The words were laced with deep regret.

Jack swallowed hard. He did understand. Far more than Lucy would ever realize.

Up ahead, a horse whinnied and laughter broke out, soon turning into raised voices. The raised voices changed into shouts of anger. The unexpected stop of the chuck wagon caused the rear of the entourage to stop. Like dominos falling over, horses were forced to sidestep with the sudden halt. Their protesting whinnies filled the morning air.

“Excuse me,” Lucy said. She picked up her reins and nosed her horse off the well-worn path, through the wild grass and around the wagon.

“Hit him again, Matt,” a voice rang out.

Jack pulled Grace’s reins to the left in an attempt to figure out what was going on. And then he saw what everyone was looking at. Two teenage boys were entangled on the ground, rolling from the dusty trail to the grass with fists flying. Jack ushered Grace ahead and into a trot.

“Stop this, right now!” Lucy yelled. She slid from her horse as two men pulled the boys apart. Good-size teenagers, they struggled to get free and reach the object of their wrath: each other.

The riders up ahead had stopped and turned in their saddles to see what was going on behind them.

The boys stumbled around, kicking up dust with their boots, stretching from the hands that held them, fists flailing in the air as they continued to struggle.

Lucy stepped into the space between the boys.

“Not a good idea,” Jack muttered. “Never get between two opposing forces.”

One of the boys broke loose. When he shot forward to grab his opponent, his shoulder knocked into Lucy.

“Lucy!” Jack shouted, realizing the warning was coming much too late.

Down went the ranch director.

“You hit Miss Lucy,” a voice accused.

Gasps, followed by a hushed silence, filled the air as Jack leaped from Grace to the ground beside Lucy’s limp body.

A stunned Lucy blinked when Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped her to a seated position. Then the dark lashes fluttered closed, resting against her too pale cheeks.

Jack’s hands trembled as he held her, and emotion slammed into him as hard as the protective urge that rose when he tucked her slim frame against his chest. From deep inside, his brain furiously balked at the unexpected tenderness so suddenly roused. But for the first time in a long time, he ignored that analytical voice. Right now, all that mattered was that Lucy was okay.

Around him, denim-clad legs crowded closer as riders hovered.

“Move back!” Jack thundered. His words were laced with an unspoken threat, and he didn’t care who heard it.

“Go get Rue,” someone urged.

Jack assessed the too still woman, fear and adrenaline kicking his heart rate into overdrive.

“Everyone, please stand back. We need a little air,” a female commanded a few minutes later. A tank of a middle-aged woman with gray curls, wearing a faded and wrinkled version of the red ranch T-shirt and a straw Stetson with a hole in the brim, slid to the ground next to Jack. With a brief glance in his direction, she opened a battered leather medical bag. “What happened?”

“She got in the way of an argument,” Jack said. He looked up at the crowd surrounding them. The guilty teenager swallowed hard, his face pale and filled with shame.

“Matt and Abel.” The woman glanced up at the boys. “Seriously? Again?”

“I take it they don’t like each other,” Jack said.

“No, they love each other. They’re biological brothers. That’s the problem.”

“Are you a doctor?” he asked when she tossed him a pair of surgical gloves and slipped on another pair herself.

“Correct. Dr. Rue Butterfield.” She nodded. “Consider yourself deputized as my assistant.”

“Code of the West?” he asked, as he picked up the bright blue gloves.

“Yep.” She gently checked Lucy’s pulse. “Lucy? Honey, can you hear me?”

Lucy moaned, her eyes opening and then closing again. “What happened?” She reached a hand to touch the back of her head. “Ouch.”