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“They also weren’t crazy about her running off in search of your dad without mentioning a word to them.”
Ronnie hadn’t been crazy about Sam finding their father, either. Not in the beginning. Learning he’d been involved with a younger woman and had a child with her took a lot of getting used to.
“Trust me,” she said. “The news was a shock to all of us.”
“She’s lucky.” For the first time since Ronnie had reclaimed her hand from his, Nate looked at her. “Not all biological families are as accepting as yours.”
“None of what happened was her fault. We weren’t about to hold the mistakes our respective parents made against her.” A thought occurred to Ronnie. “Did your mom know about my dad? Did you?”
“No. We were as surprised as anyone.”
At that moment, Sam emerged from the stables astride Ronnie’s horse, Comanche. The handsome, muscular gelding might not be Sam’s first choice, but no one could deny the pair made an impression as she trotted him toward the arena. One of the ranch hands, who happened to be in the vicinity, opened the gate for her.
Fortunately, no one else was practicing at this time of day. In another six weeks, when school let out for winter break, Powell Ranch would be packed from morning until evening.
“You ready?” Sam hollered from her position at the south end of the arena.
Nate took out his phone and opened the stopwatch app. “All set,” he hollered back.
Sam studied the cloverleaf course while adjusting her weight in the saddle.
“Take your time,” Ronnie muttered under her breath. “Don’t rush.”
Comanche stared straight ahead, nervously prancing in place. He knew his job and was eagerly awaiting the signal from Sam. The next second, she gave it. Trotting him in a tight circle, she suddenly spurred him into a full-speed-ahead gallop and made for the first barrel.
Ronnie glanced briefly at Nate to confirm what she already knew—that he was timing Sam’s run.
How often had he done the same for her when she’d been practicing? She couldn’t begin to count. During the years they’d been together, he’d supported her tirelessly and without fail.
Until the day she’d miscarried and their world had changed.
Her fault. Entirely. He’d tried hard to make things right by proposing two months later on Valentine’s Day. In her mind, she saw the small, red velvet box and the glittering heart-shaped diamond ring. So very pretty. She’d needed all her willpower to tell him no.
As one would expect, he’d been crushed and unable to accept that their relationship was too broken to fix. But Ronnie had, and two days later, she’d left him and the place they’d shared in Abilene behind, convinced a quick and clean parting was best for both of them.
Sadly, she’d been mistaken. Those dozens of voice mail messages he’d left had been filled with pain and anguish. And for months afterward, mutual friends had had nothing good to report, saying Nate had stopped competing, dropped out of sight and broken the terms of multiple endorsement contracts. By the following year, their mutual friends had had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.
Ronnie had tried telling herself the same thing would have happened regardless of how delicately she’d handled the breakup. Sometimes, she almost believed it. Mostly, she regretted her actions. Nate had done nothing wrong, was, in fact, a great boyfriend and had been deserving of far more from her. She’d been the one consumed by grief and guilt. The one who’d wanted out.
“Whoo-hoo!” Sam gave a loud hoot as she rounded the last barrel and galloped for the finish line.
Head stretched out and tail flying, the Comanche ran for all he was worth. Crossing the finish line, Sam slowed the horse as they passed through the gate, then brought him back around.
Ronnie didn’t have to wait for Nate’s announcement. Instinct, honed from years of competing, followed by years of teaching, told her Sam’s time was in the money.
“Sixteen-point-three-six seconds.” He showed her the phone. “Not bad for a pattern this size.”
“From what Sam has told me, that’s very close to Big John’s time pre-injury.”
“Meaning she can do as well on Comanche as Big John.”
Ronnie pushed off the arena fence. “If she wants. Which she doesn’t.”
“Put yourself in her shoes. What was it like when you competed on a horse that wasn’t yours? It can be intimidating.”
Before Ronnie could respond, Sam trotted over, Comanche’s sides continuing to heave from his exertion. With nimble ease, she jumped off, the reins loosely clutched between her fingers. “How’d we do?”
Nate told her.
She frowned. “Better than I thought.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“I’m not.”
Except, she was. If Ronnie were to guess, she’d say the horse’s more than decent performance hadn’t bolstered Sam’s argument that she needed Big John in order to qualify for Nationals.
Nate pocketed his phone. “You were a little slow changing leads on that last barrel.”
Ronnie had also noticed the lag but refrained from commenting. She and Sam regularly engaged in this same argument. Sam always blamed the horse and did again today.
“It’s not my fault. I have to cue him twice before he changes leads.”
“Maybe you need to practice more. The partnership between horse and rider doesn’t happen overnight. It can take months, years even, to perfect.”
Something else Ronnie had tried to tell Sam, without much success.
“You’re right.” The teenager flashed Nate an apologetic smile. “I can’t help getting impatient.”
What? Ronnie blinked. Had Sam really just agreed with Nate when all she ever did with Ronnie was fight? Increasingly so these last weeks as the competitive season drew nearer and nearer to an end.
“Will you stay the next two weeks and help me?” She grabbed Nate’s arm with her free hand. “Please. I know I can qualify with you coaching me.”
Coaching her? Wasn’t that Ronnie’s job?
She coughed and cleared her throat. “I think Nate’s on his way to Houston.”
“That can wait.” He sent her a look that probably wasn’t dismissive but felt that way nonetheless.
“Yes.” Sam’s face exploded in a huge smile. “I’m so happy.”
Not Ronnie. “We wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you,” she said dryly.
“No inconvenience. I’ll juggle my schedule.”
If only she could do the same and leave town for the next two weeks. Unfortunately, obligations to her family, her barrel racing business and her students kept her rooted in Mustang Valley for the foreseeable future.
A future that, temporarily at least, now included Nate Truett.
Chapter Two
“Where’s the rodeo this weekend?” Nate asked. He led Breeze while Samantha—he supposed he should get used to calling her Sam—walked beside him. They’d been circling the grounds for the last fifteen minutes, letting the old mare stretch her legs a bit before returning her to the trailer.
“Kingman. The Annual Andy Devine Days. We need to be on the road no later than 6:00 a.m. Friday morning.”
That gave him the rest of today, plus Wednesday and Thursday, to find a place to park his trailer and earn some quick cash.
“I like Kingman. Those were the days...”
“Was that where you earned your first championship?” she asked.
“Hardly. But I did win my first buckle there. In steer wrestling.”
“Not bull riding?”
“If I recall correctly, I came in dead last.”
“No way!”
“It’s true.” He’d been all of eighteen and, just like Sam, brand new to professional rodeoing. “I lasted a whopping one-point-two seconds before T-Rex dumped me face-first into the dirt.”
“You remember the bull’s name?”
“He made an impression.”
The truth was, Nate had been scared witless when T-Rex executed an abrupt one-eighty and charged. It was without doubt the quickest he’d ever scrambled to his feet and scaled the fence. The small scar on his left shin was a constant reminder of just how close the bull’s hoof had come to slicing his leg open.
“We’ll probably take Ronnie’s truck and trailer to Kingman,” Sam said. “Is that okay with you? There’s enough room for all of us to bunk in the camper.”
“I’ll get a hotel room.” Not that he had much money for a hotel. Unless his luck changed.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Sure that Ronnie wouldn’t bunk in the same camper with him even if her life depended on it.
He and Sam turned the corner of the horse barn, trading late October sunshine for chilly shade. Ronnie hadn’t come with them. She’d made some excuse about returning a phone call and hightailed it to the ranch office. From the look on Ronnie’s face when he’d accepted Sam’s invitation to stay, she needed some alone time to process this unexpected development.
Not nice of him, for sure. He really should have called ahead and given her fair warning. Only, deep down, a small part of him still resented her for rejecting his proposal, and for her brutal handling of their breakup—which must mean an equally small part of him still cared for her. Not that he’d admit as much, to her or anyone else.
At his truck, Sam held Breeze’s lead rope while Nate lowered the trailer’s rear gate. With very little prodding, the old brown mare meandered in and waited for Nate to secure her lead rope to the metal ring.
“Are there any cheap places in the area I can park my trailer? Preferably one that rents spaces by the day or week.”
“Why not stay at Ronnie’s?” Sam offered. “She has room. There’s just her now that Mel moved out. And since you two already know each other—”
“Room for what?”
Nate and Sam both turned at the sound of Ronnie’s voice. “Nothing,” he said, hoping Sam took the hint and kept quiet.
She didn’t. “Can Nate park his truck and trailer at your house?”
“Um...ah...”
“Don’t worry about it.” Nate let Ronnie off the hook with a casual wave. “I’ll find something. Besides, I need a place for Breeze, too.”
“She has an empty stall,” Sam persisted.
Ronnie shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s my house, and I get to decide who stays. Not you.”
“You’re saying no just because I asked,” Sam complained, clearly not liking that her idea was being shot down. “And because I want to use Big John instead of your horse.”
“Trust me, those aren’t the reasons.”
“Then what is?”
“Sam, drop it.” Nate put just enough bite in his voice to get her attention. “I won’t be the cause of a problem between you and your sister. If that’s the case, I’ll leave.”
Sam clamped her jaw shut and rolled her eyes. “She’s impossible. I can’t do anything right, lately.”
“Not the time or place,” Ronnie warned.
“Fine. I’ll ask Frankie.” Sam pulled her cell phone from her pocket and tapped in a number before Ronnie could object. “I’m staying with her, anyway, and she has room for another horse.”
Nate tried again to stop her. “It’s okay. Really. I’ll find a place.”
She was too busy making the call to listen.
“Sorry about this.” He smiled apologetically at Ronnie while Sam waited for the eldest Hartman sister to answer.
“On the off chance Frankie agrees, I’d appreciate it if you decline.”
For no reason Nate could come up with, Ronnie’s request irked him. “I’m not trying to make trouble for you.”
“And, yet, you are.”
“Hi, Frankie,” Sam chirped. “Sorry to bother you at work.” Nate and Ronnie exchanged glances while Sam made her plea. “I promise, it would only be for a couple of days. A week at the most.”
“Tell her I’ll pay rent.” And Nate would, the moment he found work.
Emotion sparked in Ronnie’s eyes, but she said nothing. Rather, she stepped up onto the trailer’s running board, reached inside and began petting Breeze. The old horse snorted and closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the head scratching.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Ronnie cooed.
Nate’s anger faded. Ronnie had once doted on Breeze almost as much as he did.
“Sure. Of course.” Sam’s gaze cut to Nate. “I will. Thanks.” She disconnected. “Frankie says you and she can talk about it when you get there.”
“Great.” Not a yes exactly. Then again, not a no. With limited options, he decided he’d agree to whatever terms Frankie named, within reason.
Ronnie huffed in disgust.
“I could ride back with you,” Sam suggested. “Save Ronnie from having to drive me.”
“Sure.”
“Can we take Big John, too? Since I won’t be riding him at Kingman this weekend, might as well take him home.” The last part included a not-so-subtle jab directed at Ronnie.
“Let’s load up, then. It’s getting close to dinnertime. I don’t want to interfere with Frankie’s schedule.”
Ronnie hopped down from the running board. “What about practice tomorrow?” Her voice was strained, but civil.
“I’m taking the twins to preschool, and then helping Mel until two. She needs some lab tests dropped off at FedEx.”
Nate’s mom had mentioned something about Sam working for her sisters in exchange for room and board and Big John’s vet care. Again, he reflected on how lucky the teenager was to have such a willing and welcoming biological family, bickering with Ronnie aside.
“There are only a few days left before we leave,” Ronnie said. “You can’t afford to miss any practice.”
“I get it.” Sam’s tone was sharp. “I’ll be here. Two thirty.”
“All right.” Ronnie started to leave, then paused to look at Nate. “Both of you, I’m assuming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He slung a brotherly arm around Sam’s shoulders, hoping to incite a rise from Ronnie.
He got it. She sucked in a harsh breath before pivoting on her heel.
Sam watched her go. “She can be pretty uptight sometimes.”
“She always was.”
“I’m assuming you were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Yeah.” He hadn’t planned on admitting even that much. “How’d you guess?”
“It’s kind of obvious.”
“Hmm. Apparently, I need to try harder.”
“When did you two date?”
“Six years ago.”
“What happened?”
“We drifted apart.” What else was there to say when he had no clue what had prompted Ronnie to pack up and leave with no warning? She’d obviously fallen out of love and fast.
“She doesn’t date,” Sam said. “Not since I’ve been here, anyway.”
“She’s busy. Running a barrel racing school takes a lot of time.”
“Guys ask her. I’ve overheard ’em. And Mel and Frankie are always telling her she needs to get out more.”
Nate believed it. Mustang Valley was nothing if not a cowboy town. In addition to the various horse ranches, there were five sizable cattle ranches in the area and as many more within a thirty-mile radius. A gal as pretty as Ronnie must have her pick of men.
“She’s always telling them no.” Sam followed him to the front compartment where he secured a latch.
“I really don’t care about her social life.”
“But don’t you think it’s strange? I’ve only been living here since the summer, and I’ve gone out with two different guys.”
He paused and gave her a serious look. “Anybody I have to beat up for getting out of line?”
“Will you quit it?” She groaned.
“Come on, we need to hit the road. Where’s Big John?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Not long after that, Big John had been loaded beside Breeze, who’d readily accepted her new traveling companion. Nate carefully navigated the long, winding road from Powell Ranch down the mountainside. Sam sat beside him, chatting up a storm and pointing out some of the local sights. He’d been to Mustang Valley twice before, back in the days when he and Ronnie were together. A lot had changed, however, and he appreciated the update.
Frankie’s house was in one of the new subdivisions on the other side of the valley and, according to Sam, had a mini barn and horse setup. She directed Nate down a side access road where Frankie waited by an open RV gate. She motioned for him to enter and park his trailer in a spot that butted up beside the covered horse stalls.
He took his time, being extra careful not to hit anything. At last satisfied with the trailer’s position, he shut off the engine and exited the cab. Sam did the same. Later, after he and Frankie had a chance to talk, he’d unhitch the truck from his trailer and park it on the street.
“Hi, Frankie.” He considered giving her a hug when she met up with him in front of his truck. At the last second, he reconsidered and reached out his hand. “I really appreciate this.”
She returned his handshake with genuine warmth. “I wish it could be longer, but I can only let you stay until Monday.”
Sam had left that part out. Well, no matter. It was enough he had a place for the next four days.
“Did Sam tell you, I insist on paying rent?”
“She did, and I won’t hear of it. You can help with chores and maybe some repairs.”
“Anything you need.”
The teenager scurried about, unloading Big John first and taking him to his stall.
“In the meantime,” Frankie said, “you’ll find a garden hose and heavy-duty electrical cord in the tack room. It’s unlocked. There’s an outlet over there.” She pointed to the side of the small barn. “And the closest water spigot is by the corral.”
Nate tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“When you’ve finished, come knock on the door. I’ve got supper in the oven, and you can meet my daughters. Spence, too, if he gets home in time.”
“I don’t expect you to feed me.” Though Nate wouldn’t mind. His lunch had consisted of a stale leftover doughnut.
She ignored his protest. “And while we’re eating, you can tell me the real reason you’re here.”
He surprised himself by agreeing. “And maybe in exchange, you can tell me about Ronnie.”
* * *
TWO PAIRS OF EYES, one of them brown and the other one green, stared at Nate from across the kitchen table. Weren’t twins supposed to look alike? Frankie’s two certainly didn’t.
“We’re four,” the smaller one announced and held up the appropriate number of fingers.
“Not yet,” Frankie corrected as she set plates in front of them. “In a couple of weeks.”
The little girl giggled impishly and then, like her sister, dug into her food. Nate did as well, after Frankie had taken her seat. Waiting wasn’t easy.
“This is good.” In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d tasted better meat loaf.
“Mommy caters food,” the smaller girl said around a swallow of milk.
Did the taller one ever talk?
“Is that so?” Nate asked.
“I-Hart-Catering. H-A-R-T. Like our last name.”
“Clever. And congratulations on your new business. Sam raved about it on the drive over here. Said you’re really picking up steam.”
He’d expected the teenager to join them for dinner, only to learn she’d made plans with a friend. Spence, Frankie’s fiancé, and the father of her daughters, was working late at the horse racing farm where he was head trainer. That left just her, the twins and Nate.
The slight discomfort he’d initially felt at being alone with them—not to mention his anxiety about the questions Frankie might pose—had been vanquished by the hospitality she’d shown. Hospitality that included feeding him an incredible home-cooked meal.
“Thanks.” She stopped to reprimand the girls for sneaking their vegetables to the dogs beneath the table. “I only just got I-Hart-Catering off the ground. Time will tell if I can make a go of it.”
He savored a mouthful of superbly seasoned green beans. “With food this good, I don’t see how you can fail.”
“It’s not easy. I’m still working full-time at the café and catering mostly on weekends. That may change if things keep going like they are.”
“Well, good luck to you.”
She gave her head an incredulous shake. “I still can’t believe your mom and Sam’s mom are such good friends. What are the odds?”
“Beyond my limited math skills.”
“I wonder why Ronnie didn’t make the connection when Sam first arrived.”
“Well, they never met. And while I’m sure I mentioned Sam’s mom, I doubt her last name ever came up.”
“Did Sam tell you how she found us?”
“She said your dad won the state lottery earlier this year and she tracked him down online.”
The story was an interesting one, and Frankie recounted it while they ate.
“He split the winnings four ways. It wasn’t a fortune but enough to better all of our lives. I bought this house with my share. Mel acquired her veterinary practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and for their honeymoon. And Ronnie started her barrel racing school. Before that she worked for the Powells, teaching classes and training horses. Because the money was spent before Sam got here, we all pitch in to help cover her rodeo expenses. She, in turn, helps us out as much as she can in exchange for room and board and Big John’s medical costs.”
“Must have been a shock, learning you had a half sister.”
“Quite a shock. But we adapted quickly.” Frankie set her fork down. “All right, not that quickly. But that’s to be expected.”
“Have she and Ronnie always squabbled like they do?”
“Funny you should mention that. No, they haven’t. Just lately. Sam’s really worried she won’t qualify for Nationals, and Ronnie’s trying hard to get her there. That’s probably putting a strain on their relationship.”
Nate thought back on his own rodeo career. In hindsight, he’d never worried much about qualifying. If it happened, great, if not, no big deal. He’d competed strictly for fun. That he’d earned a long list of titles and made decent money by anyone’s standards had often amazed him.
He had his late brother, Allan, to thank. Knowing his life would end prematurely, Allan had instilled Nate with a seize-the-moment attitude, and for many years Nate embraced the philosophy. He’d also reaped the rewards.
But Allan hadn’t lived long enough to learn the higher one flew, the farther they fell, and the more difficult it was for them to recover.
“Maybe the reason Ronnie and Sam bicker is because they’re a lot alike.”
Frankie stared at him as if he’d just solved a difficult scientific equation. “You’re absolutely right. Can’t imagine why that didn’t occur to me before. Those two are peas in a pod.”
The taller twin spoke for the first time. “What’s a pod, Mommy?”
While Frankie explained, the four of them finished their dinner. Afterward, she dispatched the girls to the family room to play.
“Can I help with cleanup?” Nate asked.
“An offer I never turn down.”
Their friendly conversation continued, centering on Ronnie and Nate’s rodeo days and the good memories, of which there were many. During a break, Nate asked Frankie the question that had been bothering him from the moment his mom called and requested he stop in Mustang Valley.
“Do you have any idea why Ronnie took off without even leaving a goodbye note?”
Frankie stopped loading the dishwasher. “You really should talk to her.”
“I tried, believe me. Kind of hard when she wouldn’t return my phone calls. I’m hoping to ask her when the moment’s right.”
“If it makes you feel better, she hardly spoke to any of us after she came back.” Frankie’s expression turned sad. “She took the miscarriage really hard.”
“She wasn’t the only one.”
“Oh, Nate. I’m so sorry. Shame on us for thinking just of Ronnie and not you.”
He’d been surprised by his excitement at the prospect of becoming a father, considering how young he and Ronnie both were and the pregnancy being completely unplanned. He’d figured on having kids in the distant future, not at twenty-four and when his career was just beginning to peak.
“Ronnie really wanted the baby,” Frankie said. “I know that for a fact.”
“Then why did she insist on competing?” It made no sense to him, then or now.