Authors: Rita Herron
Ms. Ellen cleared her throat. “I’ll help organize the food vendors.”
Johnny winked at her. “Thanks, I knew I could count on you.” He turned back to the group. “Now, for the competitive rodeo events. I’ll post the lineup, but events include team roping, steer wrestling, saddle bronco riding, calf roping, bareback riding, bull riding, barrel racing and cow penning.”
A buzz of excitement rippled through the room as the boys began to chatter about the events.
Johnny met Rachel’s gaze across the room and noticed a hesitant look in her eyes. She was going to stick around long enough for Kenny to take part, wasn’t she?
A movement near the back caught his eye. Then he spotted Frank Dunham heading toward the back door.
“I’ll coordinate with your counselors regarding a practice schedule and they’ll work with you on making your choices.” Johnny thanked them, then strode toward the back to catch Dunham. When they’d made it outside, he called his name.
“Frank, I need to talk to you.”
The man pivoted and paused on the steps. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, scars on his forearms and eyes that looked worn down and defeated.
Johnny motioned for him to step aside so they couldn’t be heard by the campers who were chattering in excited voices about the events as they poured from the dining hall.
“Dunham, we had some trouble up in the north pasture. Some fencing was cut and part of our stock got out.”
A wary expression colored Dunham’s face. “And because I have a record, you think I did it?”
Johnny shrugged. “I know you served time with Carter Flagstone, and he’s pretty pissed at me and Brandon.”
“I do know Carter,” Dunham said, tilting his chin, his eyes teeming with anger. “But I didn’t mess with your fence.”
Johnny gritted his teeth. “Carter didn’t offer to pay you to sabotage our plans here?”
Dunham squared his shoulders, fisting his hands so hard that his knuckles bulged. “You’ve got it all wrong,” Dunham said. “Carter told me about this place, but he did it as a favor.”
“What do you mean, ‘a favor’?”
Anguish lined the man’s face. “Since I was released, my wife won’t let me see my children. Carter thought if I helped out with the kids and proved myself, maybe the judge and my ex would change their minds.”
Guilt nagged at Johnny. He understood the uphill battle in overcoming past mistakes. The entire premise of the BBL was built on aiding in that fight.
“The last thing in the world I’d do is jeopardize the rodeo and what you’re doing for these children.” Dunham’s mouth flattened. “But if you don’t believe me, I’ll leave right now.”
Johnny stared at him for a long minute. He did believe him. “No, that’s not necessary. But do me a favor. If you see anyone messing around, let me know.”
R
ACHEL AVOIDED
J
UNE
W
ARNER
as she scooted through the crowded room to interview the boys. If the woman posted a picture of her or Kenny on the news, Rex would know where they were.
Then they’d have to leave.
The scent of hay and fresh-cut grass wafted around her, the clean, fresh air a reprieve from the hot kitchen and the odor of that cologne she’d detected in her cabin before lunch.
She scanned the land near the riding pens as she approached, her nerves on edge as she remembered the panties shredded on her bed.
Had Rex found her, or was that another one of Ricardo’s stunts?
No…she’d heard Ricardo talking about being with Johnny in the north pasture to repair some fencing all afternoon.
Maybe one of the other campers had played a joke?
She prayed that was the answer, but she had to remain alert.
Horses neighed and trotted across the field, enjoying their freedom, their manes dancing in the wind. A pang of longing mushroomed inside her. For the past two years she’d felt trapped, as if she was in a prison of her own.
Several riding pens had been built side by side with connecting chutes and corrals for use in the rodeo events. Johnny led a dark brown stallion from the barn, the animal’s regal stance reminding her of Johnny himself. Big, strong, tough, invincible.
An amazing animal.
An amazing man.
Stop it, Rachel. Just because he’s been nice to Kenny doesn’t mean you should fall for him. You’re a woman with a checkered past.
And an ex who wanted her dead.
Her stomach clenching, she scanned the horizon again, thought she saw something flicker in the sunlight on the hill to the east, then chastised herself for being paranoid. There were ranch hands and counselors everywhere. It was broad daylight.
She and Kenny were safe.
“There’s an old cowboy’s saying—‘If you give lessons in meanness to people or animals,’” Johnny said to the group of boys, “‘then don’t be surprised if they learn them.’”
“What does that mean?” Kenny asked.
Willie, the ten-year-old with the missing hand, piped up. “If you’re mean to animals, they’ll be mean to you.”
“That’s right, Willie.” Johnny gave him a thumbs-up.
“I’d never be mean to ’em,” Kenny said, brushing at his cowlick. “I like animals.”
Rachel’s heart squeezed. Thankfully, her son had none of his father’s violent tendencies in him.
“Good. Animals can sense if you like them or if you’re nervous,” he said. “If they’re intimidated or sense danger, they may bolt, kick or attack.” Johnny showed them how to slowly approach the animal, then lowered his voice and stroked the horse’s mane with his long, blunt fingers.
His voice was as gentle as his touch, igniting a sense of wonder inside Rachel. Rex had been a charmer, but he snapped on a dime.
Johnny was tough but maintained control. She’d seen photos of him bareback riding and wrestling a steer, and the man had plenty of brute strength. He just didn’t use it against women and children.
The circle of boys watched intently as he demonstrated. “Each of our counselors will teach you how to saddle your own horse and groom them. Then we’ll ride around the pen so you can become comfortable in the saddle. Tomorrow we’ll take a short trail ride.”
Kenny’s face lit up with excitement as the group divided up with their instructors. Rachel was relieved to see that Johnny kept Kenny with him. Not that she didn’t trust the other counselors, but Johnny was a pro.
As she watched him with her son, a dull ache pressed against her breastbone. Kenny needed a man’s influence in his life.
A man like Johnny.
Would she ever be free to live her life without looking over her shoulder and being constantly on the run? Free to know that Kenny was safe? That Rex wouldn’t concoct some phony charges against her and lock her away so he could steal Kenny?
Free to love again and build a home for her and her son?
J
OHNNY’S PULSE POUNDED
at the torn expression in Rachel’s eyes. She loved her son dearly, but tension and fear lined her face.
He wanted to ride in and rescue her from her problems, but she obviously had put a padlock on the gate to her heart.
Those bruises rose in his mind to haunt him. Who had given them to her? An ex-boyfriend or lover? Her husband? Kenny’s father?
The incident with the fencing struck him again, and his anxiety mounted. What if he tracked her here and cut the fencing to distract him? Because he wanted to get to Rachel?
He led the Appaloosa around the pen a couple more times, then brought him to a halt and patted his side. “Good boy, Dusty.”
“That was the mostest fun I’ve ever had.” Kenny leaned over and hugged the horse. “I love you, Dusty.”
Johnny grinned, his heart melting at the sight of the boy’s face. This was what he’d been missing in his life. Purpose. Meaning.
A family.
Sure, he had Kim and Lucy, but that was different. He itched to have a son or a daughter of his own.
Whoa…don’t go there, man.
Not with this boy and his mother. Not when she has secrets in her eyes.
Not when you know she’s told you lies.
Not when she might have a husband somewhere hunting her.
R
ACHEL HATED
ALL THE LIES
. Lying to Johnny. To Ms. Ellen.
And she hated that she’d forced her son to lie, too.
What would her parents think of them now?
Shame filled her. Kenny was so excited about the upcoming rodeo that he’d talked Rachel’s ear off while she’d helped Ms. Ellen prepare dinner, thankfully oblivious for the moment of the turmoil eating at her.
The beef Stroganoff smelled delicious, the peach pies intoxicating, reminding her of the years before her parents died. And the family life she’d so wanted for her own.
Her mother had liked to bake, had especially liked apple-and-blueberry cobblers, although Rachel had favored peach. Ms. Ellen reminded her of home and grandmothers, of warmth and love.
All the things that had been missing in her life.
She helped Ms. Ellen serve the meal, watching with appreciation as the ranch hands, counselors and kids streamed in. All were excited, tired, starving from the fresh air and hard work. Kenny gravitated toward his new friend Willie, and Lucy tagged along behind Rachel’s son as if he was a big brother.
Kenny finished eating, then ran over to her as she cleaned up.
“Mom, the counselor said I can bunk down with the other campers. They’re gonna sleep outside in tents tonight. Is that okay?”
Rachel’s heart clenched at the childish glee in his eyes. How could she deny him? Although, the image of that shredded underwear taunted her, and nerves crawled down her spine.
Kenny tugged on her sleeve. “Can I, Mom? Pleeeaase. They’re gonna roast marshmallows and tell cowboy stories.”
The counselors were hovering around the boys, and she relented. She couldn’t put Kenny in a bubble his entire life or he’d be miserable.
“Of course, honey. But just mind the counselors and stay with the group.”
Then Kenny hesitated, bouncing back and forth on his feet. “Oh, no, I can’t go, Mom. I gots to feed Cleo and the pups.”
Rachel ruffled his hair. “I’ll take care of them tonight. You can check on them in the morning.”
A smile burst on his face, tugging at her heart, and she gave him a big hug. Then he raced ahead and threw his arm around Willie as if they were best friends. Tears pricked the backs of her eyelids. Here Kenny had a normal life.
But when would it end?
She glanced around for Johnny, but he was at another table firming up the schedule with Brody. She’d met him the day before and learned the story behind the ranch—Brody had lost a brother years ago, and he was still missing. To fill the void, he’d dedicated the ranch to helping other boys in need.
Johnny looked so handsome and strong that, for a moment, she just paused to drink in the sight of him. To allow herself to fantasize about making a life here at the BBL. About seeing him as more than a friend.
Finally, her good sense kicked in, and she went to help Ms. Ellen. She had to ignore the desperate yearning she had to be with Johnny. Nothing would come of it but heartache for her and her son.
When she and Ms. Ellen finished, Rachel headed back to her cabin, enjoying the fresh air. But as she neared the cabin, her internal radar spiked, warning her she was in danger. That someone was watching her.
Following her.
Footsteps crunched on dry gravel. Twigs snapped. The husky whisper of her name rolled off a man’s lips.
Rachel whirled around just as a shadow crossed in front of her.
Then a man gripped her by the neck and shoved her toward the barn.
Chapter Eight
Johnny glanced around for Rachel as he finished sketching out the event schedule with Brody, but she’d disappeared. Kenny had left for the campout and he knew she’d be alone.
Maybe if he approached her as a friend, she’d open up.
But just as he made it to the door, the reporter caught him. “Mr. Long, can I speak with you for a moment?”
Johnny gritted his teeth, then pasted on a friendly smile before he faced her. “Yes.”
Her green eyes lit with a smile. “I’m June Warner.”
“Yes, ma’am. Brody told me who you are.”
Her brows furrowed slightly. “You don’t want the press here?”
Johnny forced himself to take a deep breath. Too often, he’d spouted off the first thing on his mind and the press twisted it to make him look like a cad.
“We need publicity for the rodeo and to raise awareness for the ranch,” Johnny said. “But I want to make sure we’re shown in a positive light.”
“I’m not here to make trouble,” she said tightly. “I came as a favor to Brody.”
Dammit. He was making a mess of this.
“I apologize if I seemed rude, Miss Warner. I…you obviously know some of the things the media said about me before.”