Pamela Britton - The Ranger's Rodeo Rebel

“Has he done that before?”

He saw her eyes flicker. “Not lately.”

He had a feeling that “not lately” meant not within the last few days. She might be putting on a brave face, but her eyes conveyed the pictures in her mind.

“I’m still walking you to your door,” he said, slipping out of the truck. “And I’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up around ten.”

Her forehead wrinkled as though she wanted to argue, but she nodded just the same and then slid out of the vehicle. She walked ahead of him as she crossed the tiny grass hill separating the road from the apartment complex.

“I’m the second one on the left,” she explained. “Bottom floor.”

Which was why they didn’t see it at first.

BITCH.

She stopped in her tracks. He did, too. Her front door had been shielded from their view by her neighbor’s tiny porch, the word that’d been spray painted in red only visible from a certain angle.

“Son of a—” She didn’t finish what she wanted to say, but there was no need. She froze, eyes wide, hands clenching and unclenching in...what emotion did he see on her face? Dismay? Disgust? Rage? Maybe a combination of it all.

“You’re staying with me,” he said firmly.

“Yes.” She turned to face him, and to his surprise, tears glinted in her eyes. The sight kicked him in the gut. “And I’ll stay at the ranch, too, if you don’t mind.”

Chapter Three

There was something completely mortifying about having to accept the help of a near stranger. Worse, she’d had to call her boss and tell him what had happened. Colt Reynolds had been completely kind, but then again, he always was. She’d never met someone with such a huge capacity to help people in need. In hindsight, it should be no surprise that his little brother was the same way.

Well, there was nothing little about him.

“You really don’t have to move in with your brother, though,” Carolina said, glancing behind them to make sure no silver 4x4 followed. So far, so good. No sign of James. “I can stay in my horse trailer. I do it all the time.”

“Does it have living quarters?”

“Well, no.” Not technically. She’d never been able to afford one of those big fancy trailers. Her own humble stock trailer was all she had in the world. That and her truck. “I converted the tack room into a space where I could sleep. It has a bed over the hitch and electricity for a portable stove. It works fine.”

“Does it have a bathroom?”

“Well, no—”

“A heater or air-conditioning?”

“No, but maybe I could live in the Galloping Girlz trailer? It has living quarters.” She paused. “Or maybe I can stay in Colt’s trailer?” Her boss had her dream trailer. Shower. Kitchen. Living area.

One day.

“Maybe, but we’ll need to use it on the weekends for rodeos.” He stared at her. “What are you doing to do? Move in and out every weekend? And before you suggest it, the trick-riding rig is out, too. There’s a perfectly good apartment at the ranch. You’re going to stay there and I’ll move in with my sister or brother. Capisce?”

She didn’t want to, but she nodded just the same. Carolina glanced at the neighborhoods they passed, her mind settling on one word: rodeo. James would follow her to one of them. She would stake her life on it, and there would be no way to avoid the man—not in a public place. Her stomach curdled thinking about it.

They passed the burger joint outside town, and she caught sight of a young couple facing each other in the gravel parking lot. The girl sat on the tailgate, a look of love on her face as she gazed into the eyes of the captain of the high school football team.

Okay, she had no way of knowing if that were true. Carolina looked away from the scene because it made her think of her own childhood. Had she ever really had one? There’d never been time to date anybody, much less a football player. She’d been too busy working two jobs and trying to graduate. She’d refused to flunk out like her mother. Carolina had been determined to do things differently, but look what it’d gotten her. The first man she ever dated had ended up being a complete psycho—just like the men her mom used to bring home. It was enough to put her off men for the rest of her life.

“I’ll move back into my old room at Colt’s,” Chance said, drawing her attention. “I don’t think they’ve completely babied it out. And they won’t mind, not once we explain the situation.”

Oh, yeah, sure. Explain that Carolina’s ex-boyfriend was even crazier than she’d thought. Great.

Do not start crying.

She inhaled sharply. Tears were for babies. She wasn’t one and she wouldn’t act like one, either. So what if she was in a spot of trouble with her ex? She’d deal with it. And she had help, she thought, glancing at her companion in the truck. Chance was much younger than her boss, at least five years, but clearly older than her. And while her boss was a handsome older man, Chance Reynolds wasn’t handsome. The former Army Ranger was drop-dead gorgeous. Like Tatum Channing, only with a way better body. She should know. She’d seen the whole enchilada.

Carolina!

“Have you lived here long?” he asked.

“My whole life.” She’d known who the Reynoldses were long before they’d known her. Their father was legendary in rodeo circles. A member of the Hall of Fame, a world-renowned horse trainer. She’d heard about the dark side of Zeke Reynolds, too. His infamous temper. His ghastly horse-training techniques. Even that he might have beaten the boys and their sister. She’d seen no evidence of it, though. Her boss never spoke ill of his dad, and when she’d brought Zeke Reynolds up one day, all Colt had done was shrug and repeat what Carolina thought—the man had been a legend.

“You go to the local high school?” Chance asked.

The only high school. “Via Del Caballo High.”

“Go, Chargers,” Colt sang.

She smiled. A rearing horse was the school’s mascot, and it was the reason why she’d gotten into horses, much to her mother’s dismay. Carolina had always been fascinated by them, but when one of the local cowboys had brought his horse to the football game her freshman year—in a foil and cardboard costume made to look like armor, of course—she’d been able to touch one for the first time. It’d been over for her ever since. Once she’d looked into those liquid brown eyes, her life had changed.

“You graduated a few years ahead of me,” she said. “I remember your sister, Claire. She graduated my freshman year. She always seemed nice.”

“My sister is the best,” Chance said. “Kills me what she’s been through.”

Cancer. Not Claire, her son. Leukemia. But they had it on the run, she’d heard.

“You’d never know there was anything amiss from meeting her.”

Claire Reynolds was her hero. A woman she could look up to, and she did. Natalie Reynolds, too. Natalie had been in a horrible riding accident before she’d met Colt. They’d told her she’d never walk again, and now look. By comparison, Carolina’s problems seemed small.

“Everyone has a cross to bear,” he said softly.

She gulped at the kindness and understanding in his eyes. She forced her gaze away and out the window. They were out in what Carolina used to call the boondocks back when she was growing up. The town of Via Del Caballo had faded into tiny ranches—or wannabe ranches, as Carolina called them—single-story houses surrounded by white fences and small arenas. She glanced behind them again. Still no 4x4 in sight.

“We’re not being followed,” Chance said.

She jerked around so fast her braids nearly hit her in the face. “How do you know?”

“Simple.” He glanced at her quickly, the line of his jaw so strong and masculine she swallowed. “I doubled back when we were in town.”