Rebecca Winters: A Cowboy's Heart

“If I have, it’s not important.”

“Bless you.” Spoken like a man. She chuckled before he said, “Let’s go.”

They drove away from the ranch to the highway, cleared of snow since the storm the other night. “I’d like to reach North Salt Lake by evening. I made a reservation at the RV park on the outskirts with easy access.”

“Sounds good to me. In case of more snow, I’d planned to drive as far as I could through Wyoming before finding a motel. I’m really grateful you asked me to come with you.”

“Did you have someone to drive with you if I hadn’t asked you?”

A vision of Kyle passed through her mind. She looked out the passenger window. “Yes. I had several offers from friends and family, but this is one trip I wanted to take alone. Knowing it’s my last one, I didn’t feel like sharing the experience with anyone else.”

He sat back in the seat. “So how come you came with me?”

“Honestly?” she answered with another question.

“Shoot.”

“Because you’re not anyone else. When I told Dad I was driving with you, he said we were the best kind of company for each other since we already know what it’s like to be in each other’s skin.”

“He was right.”

“You’ve been to nationals and have won back-to-back world championships five times. Now you’re trying for your sixth! This is my first time and you know exactly how vulnerable I’m feeling on the inside. I’m full of doubts and ambitions no else could understand, no one but someone like you, who’s already experienced all those emotions and triumphed.”

“That’s the problem,” he muttered. “No matter how many triumphs, you’re only as good as your last one.”

“I know. I find that out every time I compete at another rodeo.”

“If you know that already, then you know a hell of a lot more than ninety-nine percent of your competition who believe their own hype.”

His unexpected burst of emotion showed he felt as vulnerable as she did. Maybe more, because this would be his last competition. The need to prove himself one more time had to be testing his mettle in ways she couldn’t fathom. No one would ever suspect that of Connor Bannock, the picture of confidence personified.

“In all honesty, I’m afraid, Connor,” she admitted under her breath.

“Of failure?”

“A lot more than that. No matter what happens, I don’t know what the future’s going to be like without having a goal. I’ve been pursuing this dream for so long, it’s taken up the hours of my world, consciously and subconsciously for years. Of course, I have my career, but that’s different. I can’t imagine what it will be like to wake up on December 15, knowing it’s truly over...and the rest of my life is still ahead of me,” she whispered.

“Lady, you just said a mouthful.”

Liz turned her head toward him in surprise. “You too?”

“In spades.”

* * *

SO FAR, NO snow had fallen, but it was coming. Connor felt the icy wind from a bleak sky while he and Liz walked their horses at their first roadside park stop. Two hours at a time was as much as their animals could handle riding in the trailer. Their muscles got tired of trying to maintain their footing and needed the rest.

With them tied up outside, he and Liz ate sandwiches and drank hot coffee in the trailer. Her earlier admission about thinking she’d be at a loss once the competition was over was so in tune with his own feelings, they seemed to have achieved a level of understanding that didn’t require a lot of conversation. He didn’t feel the need to fill the gaps of silence. Neither did she.

By late afternoon, they’d made their fourth stop to exercise the horses. Inside the trailer they both made calls. He checked with Ben, the ranch foreman. Connor had hired a new hand to keep all the equipment on the ranch in top shape. That had been Ned’s job. Ben sounded hopeful this new guy would work out. As they talked, Connor could hear Liz talking to Dr. Rafferty about a sick horse.

Once their phone business was done, they cleaned up the stall floor before watering the horses and replenishing their hay nets. Soon they’d brought the horses back inside and were on their way again.

Since his quickie divorce from Reva Stevens two years ago in Reno, he’d dated women, but he’d never taken any of them on the road with him. This was a first since the disastrous marriage in Las Vegas that had only lasted a year. His grandfather had never said anything, but Connor knew the older man hadn’t been happy about his impulsive marriage to the L.A. TV anchor.

They’d made their base at her condo in L.A. When he wasn’t spending time with her, he traveled the rodeo circuit and worked on the ranch. She stayed on the ranch with him for a week after their honeymoon, but ranch life didn’t hold her long. Both of them were too driven by ambition to put the other person first. The long separations took their toll, and divorce had seemed the only solution.

Though they hadn’t been able to make it work, Reva called him from time to time. He kept their conversations short. He missed her in his bed. That had never changed, but it was everything else.

Liz’s comment about being afraid of the future had resonated with him big-time.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her reading something on her iPad. “Anything interesting?”

“Yes. I’ve been checking stats. Dustine Hoffman just won the barrel-racing event at the Tom Thumb Texas Stampede in 13.71 seconds. She’s everyone’s competition.”

He whistled. “That arena gives you faster time than the one in Las Vegas with its special soil.”

She rolled her eyes at him. Between the dark lashes, they were as green as lime zest. He’d never seen eyes that exact color. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. The truth is, she’s a great athlete.”

“So are you.” Connor discovered that Liz had a great mouth, too. Soft and full, not too wide, but he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the road. “Didn’t you do a 13.70 at Bakersfield?”

“I doubt I’ll see a number that low again, but I can dream.”

He knew all about that. “Did you read anything else interesting?”

A sly smile broke the corner of her mouth. “There must be a hundred blogs devoted to Connor Bannock. Your fans stretch around the country and back. Jocko Mendez from the Southeastern circuit in Arkansas is your closest competition, but word is out that Las Vegas is betting on you. Have you ever read any of them?”

She tried to get him off the subject of her.

“I don’t have time.” He let out a sigh. “Do yourself a favor and forget about Dustine Hoffman’s stats. Concentrate on your routine with Sunflower. I watched you working with her the other morning. I’m impressed how well she body rates and changes leads between the first and second barrel.”

“But I hear a but. What aren’t you telling me?”

Liz was such a quick study, he needed to stay on his toes. “Am I that transparent?”

“Yes!”

He laughed. It was refreshing to be with someone who was too guileless to be anything but honest...unlike Reva, who’d harbored hurts and suspicions, then exploded at an unexpected moment.

“I notice you were working with wax reins, but they can be sticky. You have to really watch your hands with those. When they stick, you’re pulling your horse around the barrel when you should be guiding her.”

“Was that what I was doing the other morning?”

“No. I happened to notice it at your competition in Great Falls.”

“You did?”

“Liz—we’re not always at the same rodeos, but when we are, I make it a priority to watch my neighbor’s performance.”

She stirred in the seat. “I had no idea.”