Trish Milburn - Her Texas Rodeo Cowboy

Angel smiled as she picked up the last of the horseshoes. Sloane was going to get her sister back for creating this monster and making Sloane the bad guy.

“Not tonight.” At the groans of disappointment, she said, “We’ve got a hayride and a big cookout planned. My dad makes the best burgers in Texas.”

“And there’s a meteor shower,” Angel said. “We can lie out on blankets and watch them streak across the sky.”

Brent looked up at Jason, who must have seemed as tall as a skyscraper to the little guy. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

Jason started to say something but stopped and looked at Sloane.

“I’m sure Jason has things to do.” Like drive right out of Blue Falls and on to the next rodeo in the next town in an endless string that would stretch out for the rest of the year, only stopping when winter arrived.

“I have time, if you don’t mind,” Jason said.

She ignored a little flutter of excitement in the center of her chest. It was the height of stupidity, especially when all her attention needed to be on the kids this weekend. But then she saw the naked look of hope on Brent’s face and she simply couldn’t deny him another chance to be near his new hero—even if she thought there were way better heroes for a little boy to idolize.

“Feel free to come by,” she said. “But we’re going to have a lesson on mucking out stalls.”

“I have lots of experience in that department.” Jason grinned.

Damn if that grin probably hadn’t charmed more than one woman out of her panties. If not for the camp this weekend, she wasn’t 100 percent sure that she would be able to resist.

Chapter Three

Through an incredible streak of luck—a good draw for him and some poor performances from others—Jason ended up placing higher in the rodeo than he’d expected after his first night’s performance. High enough that he gained a spot in the national standings. He was in such a good mood that after a hearty breakfast at the Primrose Café, he bought some flower bouquets on his way out to the Rocking Horse Ranch.

Sloane had been right, of course. He would be leaving town later today, so getting involved wasn’t a wise decision. But it didn’t keep him from thinking about her, or evidently wanting to buy her a bouquet of flowers. He’d been halfway back to his truck outside the florist shop when he wondered if she might not be a flowers kind of gal.

But all women liked flowers, right?

To be on the safe side and to keep himself from potentially looking like a fool, he went back in and bought more flowers. If he brought bouquets for every female in residence at the ranch, all bases were covered.

True to her word, Sloane was giving a lesson on mucking out stalls when he arrived. She paused for a split second when she saw him enter the barn. Was she surprised that he’d actually come back? He hoped it was a pleasant surprise.

The kids hadn’t noticed him yet so he leaned against one of the stalls, the flowers hidden behind his back, as he listened to her tell the kids that having horses was a big responsibility. They had to be fed, watered, brushed, their health maintained and, yes, their poop scooped.

A chorus of “Eew!” made him chuckle to himself as she used the pitchfork to lift a section of soiled hay and deposit it in the wheelbarrow.

Little Phoebe was the first to notice him. When the wide grin appeared on her face, she called out, “Jason!” and ran toward him, his heart expanded the way it did whenever he got to visit Caleb and Lily.

He squatted in time for Phoebe to wrap her arms around his neck in a hug.

“You came back.”

“I said I would.”

She pulled away and stepped to his side. “Why are you hiding flowers behind your back?”

“As a surprise for you.” He brought one of the smaller bouquets around to give to her.

Her smile would brighten the darkest day. He suddenly wondered what her story was and hoped it wasn’t too bad. Anything that took away that smile would be a crime.

Phoebe brought the flowers up to her nose and sniffed them. “They’re so pretty.”

“Is it okay if I give the other girls some flowers, too?”

Phoebe nodded. “They smell nicer than the horse poop.”

He barked out a laugh, especially when he caught Sloane rolling her eyes. “I agree with you there.”

Jason walked over to Alice and the other girls in the group, including Angel’s daughter, Julia, then handed them all miniature bouquets identical to Phoebe’s.

“Did you bring some for Angel and Sloane?” Alice asked.

“I did.” He extended a bouquet to Angel, who stood on the opposite side of the alley from Sloane and her pitchfork.

“Thanks.” She sniffed them. “Phoebe is right. They do smell better than horse poop.”

The word poop got all the kids to giggling again.

“Do you like my mom?” Julia asked as she eyed him.

“She’s very nice,” he said, gathering from the child’s question that perhaps Angel was single. He’d heard nothing about a husband or boyfriend the day before.

“Do you want to take her on a date? Boys bring girls flowers when they want to go out on dates.”

“Julia,” Angel said, gently scolding. She shifted her gaze across to her sister. “Jason doesn’t want to go on a date with Mommy.”

Sloane pointed accusingly at Angel with the hand holding the pitchfork.

He extended one of the last two bouquets toward Sloane. “Your aunt, however, is a different story.”

He couldn’t tell for sure because of the hat she wore and the fact that she was no doubt warm from cleaning the stall, but he thought color rose in Sloane’s fair cheeks. She seemed at a loss for how to respond, and he considered he’d made a mistake saying what he had. He’d put her on the spot, and after she’d made it clear the day before she wasn’t interested in someone who’d be leaving town even before the campers would.

But he didn’t have to leave yet. He could stick around a couple more days and still make it to the next rodeo in plenty of time. Considering what she’d said the day before, he should leave now. But he flat-out didn’t want to. He wanted to get to know Sloane Hartley better. Despite her eye rolls and distancing behavior, he suspected there was a lot more to her. Like why she held these camps for kids who came from difficult backgrounds.

Common sense tried to convince him he was making a mistake. After all, being distracted by her was most likely the cause of his poor ride two nights earlier. Until this year was over, he should steer clear of distractions—even really pretty ones.

Especially really pretty ones.

“Those are lovely,” said a voice from behind them.

He continued looking at Sloane a moment longer, but she didn’t make a move to take the bouquet he offered. Shot down, he turned to face her mom.

“I’m glad you think so because these are for you,” he said, lifting the final bouquet.

“Well, that was sweet of you,” Mrs. Hartley said as she stepped closer and accepted the flowers. “These will look great in my kitchen.” She slipped her arm through his. “He’s a good one. A smart woman would snatch him up while he’s still available.” She looked up at him. “You are available, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sloane didn’t roll her eyes this time, but he imagined her thinking about doing exactly that. Instead, she turned back to the stall and continued her lesson.

Mrs. Hartley patted him on the arm. “Don’t let her thorny exterior scare you off.”

“It’ll take more than that. I wrestle ornery steers for a living.”

Mrs. Hartley smiled at that, patted his arm once again, then stepped away. “Let me take Sloane’s flowers and put them in water. I’ll be sure to put them someplace she can’t miss them.”