Marin Thomas - No Ordinary Cowboy

“I did.” Carter grinned. “Still ride bulls?”

“Every now and then. Tonight I’m riding along with Lucy.”

“Good.” Carter pointed to her customers. “Billy John is harmless but Bobby Ray’s a hothead.” One of the waitresses called Carter’s name and the owner walked off.

“I’ll handle these guys,” Tony said.

Tony’s take-charge attitude didn’t offend Lucy. He wouldn’t be a good border patrol agent if he wasn’t self-assured and confident. “Let’s go,” Tony said to the men.

The cowboys stared with stony expressions. Time to pour on the charm. “Evenin’, gentlemen.” Lucy smiled sweetly. “You’ve bought yourselves a ticket on the Pony Express.” The line sounded corny but most of her customers chuckled.

Casting evil glares at Carter, the men rose to their feet and stumbled toward the exit. Once they stepped outside, Lucy asked, “Where are you fellas from?”

“Yuma,” Bobby Ray said.

She unlocked the side door on the van. “You looking for a ride into town then?”

“Unless you’re offerin’ a different kind of ride tonight?” Bobby Ray leered at Lucy, and Billy John snickered.

Tony stepped forward, but Lucy blocked his path. She’d use Tony as backup only if necessary. “Sorry, but you won’t find that kind of ride in this van.”

“Aw, c’mon, sugar.”

When Bobby Ray made a move toward Lucy, she grabbed his forearm and spun, tossing him over her shoulder and onto the ground. Before the cowboy knew what had happened, Lucy had planted her boot heel against his windpipe. “Rule number one. Don’t mess with the driver. Got that, Bobby Ray?”

Tony whistled low between his teeth. “Nice job.”

Secretly pleased she’d impressed Tony, Lucy said, “If you gentlemen mind your manners, I’ll give you a lift into Yuma. If not, you sit in the parking lot until the sheriff arrives. What’ll it be?”

Bobby Ray grimaced. “Yuma.”

“Shut up and behave, Bobby.” Billy John helped his friend off the ground. “Sue Ann will have my head if I don’t come home tonight.”

“Either of you carrying a weapon?” Lucy asked.

“No, ma’am.” Both men raised their arms in the air.

“Lift your jeans up over your boots.” Satisfied neither cowboy carried a knife or a gun, Lucy said, “Get in.”

Tony closed the van door then hopped into the front passenger seat.

“Who are you?” Billy John asked Tony after Lucy started the engine.

“Tony Bravo. Border patrol agent.”

“Someone give me an address.” Lucy input the information into the GPS as Billy John recited it.

“How often do you end up at the wrong house?” Tony asked.

“Never. But Hector’s landed in a few strange places.”

“That was pretty impressive,” Tony said. “Where’d you learn to flip a guy onto his back?”

“I took a self-defense class in college.” She left out that she’d dated her instructor, Keith, for nine months.

“I’m glad you know how to defend yourself, but you should have a partner if you’re going to drive the van.”

“Quit harassing me. You’re worse than my parents.” Lucy had thought long and hard before making the decision to start up the Pony Express. She’d weighed the pros and cons, but in the end the only thing that had mattered was saving lives.

Halfway to Yuma, Bobby Ray crawled into the third seat and fell asleep. His quiet snores served as background music to Billy John’s conversation with Tony about border security.

Lucy followed the GPS map and ended up at the Desert Sands Apartments. “Which way?” she asked, turning into the entrance.

“Third building on the right.” Billy John unbuckled his belt when the van stopped. “How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing. The Pony Express is free, but if you’re feeling generous you can leave a tip to help pay for gas.” Lucy held out a mason jar and Billy John dropped a five-dollar bill in it then roused Bobby Ray.

Tony steadied the man as he stumbled from the van.

“Stay home the rest of the night, okay?” Lucy said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Billy John lugged his friend up the sidewalk to the apartment.

Lucy waited until the men went inside before pulling away. Tony remained quiet, but she sensed he had something to say. “You might as well spit it out.”

“I underestimated you.”

“How so?”

“You’re a rich, spoiled girl.”

“Yes, I am.” Or she had been until her father cut off her inheritance.

“I never imagined you caring about what happens to lowlifes.”

“Just because a cowboy drinks a little too much doesn’t mean he’s scum. Most of the guys who catch a lift home from the Pony Express are hardworking ranch hands or down-on-their-luck rodeo cowboys.”

Lucy tuned the radio to a country station and returned to the Saguaro Cactus Lounge. Tony remained quiet during the drive and she found his silence comforting, not nerve-racking. As soon as she pulled into the parking lot of the bar her phone rang. Shannon Douglas. “Sorry, I have to take this call.”

“No problem. Thanks for the ride-along, and watch yourself tonight.” Tony hopped out and shut the door before she had a chance to hand him his truck keys. He’d probably forgotten she had them from earlier in the evening.

“Hi, Shannon, what’s up?” Lucy’s blood pumped faster through her veins as she listened to the good news.

“Great. Thanks so much. I’ll arrive at the rodeo a couple of hours before my ride.” Lucy grabbed the pen and notepad she kept in the van and scribbled down information about the Ajo rodeo the middle of May. “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

When Shannon lectured her on the importance of being in top physical shape, Lucy said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ve found someone to help me train for the rodeo.” She crossed her fingers, hoping she hadn’t told a lie.

After disconnecting the call, she let out a whoop of joy. Shannon had persuaded Wrangler to allow Lucy to ride in three summer rodeos to raise money for the Pony Express. The two rodeos following Ajo were yet to be determined. Lucy left the van and waited for Tony to come out of the bar.

“Looking for these?” She jingled the keychain when he stepped outside. “I have a huge favor to ask, but I’m positive you’ll say no.” She handed over the keys.

“Then why ask?”

“I have no one else to turn to.”

“What do you need help with?”

“Teach me to ride bulls.”

His mouth sagged.

“Please, Tony. I’ve organized a fundraiser—”

“No.”

“Is that a no or a maybe no?”

“No means no, Lucy.”

“I realize this came out of left field, but—”

“You have no business on the back of a bull.” Good God, Tony thought. The woman was small-boned, five-feet-six or -seven inches tall at the most, and probably weighed less than one-ten, sopping wet.

“This is important, Tony.”

He’d worked for the border patrol long enough to tell the difference between people who were serious and sane and those who were serious and insane. Lucy was dead serious—whether she was sane or insane was anyone’s guess. “Why do you need to ride a bull?”

“I’m raising—” A rowdy group of cowboys leaving the bar interrupted her.

Tony took her by the arm and helped her into the front seat of his truck. He started the engine then flipped the air-conditioning on high, hoping the blast of cold air would mask the scent of Lucy’s honeysuckle perfume.

“Hear me out,” she said.

Did he have a choice?

“When I came up with the idea for the Pony Express I expected my father to object, but he didn’t.”

“Why not?” Tony sure in hell would have.