No Ordinary Cowboy (Mills & Boon American Romance) (Rodeo Rebels - Book 6) (4 page)

“Then why ask?”

“I have no one else to turn to.”

“What do you need help with?”

“Teach me to ride bulls.”

His mouth sagged.

“Please, Tony. I’ve organized a fundraiser—”

“No.”

“Is that a
no
or a
maybe no?
”

“No means no, Lucy.”

“I realize this came out of left field, but—”

“You have no business on the back of a bull.” Good God, Tony thought. The woman was small-boned, five-feet-six or -seven inches tall at the most, and probably weighed less than one-ten, sopping wet.

“This is important, Tony.”

He’d worked for the border patrol long enough to tell the difference between people who were serious and sane and those who were serious and insane. Lucy was dead serious—whether she was sane or insane was anyone’s guess. “Why do you need to ride a bull?”

“I’m raising—” A rowdy group of cowboys leaving the bar interrupted her.

Tony took her by the arm and helped her into the front seat of his truck. He started the engine then flipped the air-conditioning on high, hoping the blast of cold air would mask the scent of Lucy’s honeysuckle perfume.

“Hear me out,” she said.

Did he have a choice?

“When I came up with the idea for the Pony Express I expected my father to object, but he didn’t.”

“Why not?” Tony sure in hell would have.

“My mother told him to back off, because she was worried I wouldn’t remain in Stagecoach.”

“You had plans to go somewhere else?”

“Right before I graduated, I received a job offer from a marketing firm in Phoenix, but because my mother was having a difficult time coping with Michael’s death I declined the job and moved back home.” Lucy waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, my father expected the Pony Express to fail, so he stayed out of my way as I got the business off the ground.”

“What does all this have to do with bull riding?”

“The federal grant I receive to run the Pony Express was reduced by half. When my father found out, he cut off access to my trust fund, which I’d been dipping into to keep the business afloat.”

Tony thought he might have done the same thing if it had been his daughter.

“If I don’t find a way to raise $20,000 this summer, the Pony Express will go bankrupt before the end of the year.”

“Besides gas and maintenance on the van, what other expenses do you have?” he asked.

She counted off on her fingers. “Hector’s salary and his—”

“Hector isn’t a volunteer driver?” Shoot, his mother didn’t get paid to deliver food to her Meals on Wheels clients.

“I pay Hector a small salary and his benefits.”

“What kind of benefits?”

“Health insurance.” A second finger popped up. “I also pay liability insurance in case I’m sued.”

Liability insurance was smart. Even though the Durango Gold Mine had stopped production years ago, drunken cowboys might sue, hoping to get their hands on part of the Durango fortune. “Okay, I can see where your business needs cash flow to survive, but how will riding bulls pay the bills?”

“Shannon Douglas talked Wrangler into agreeing to let me ride bulls as a fundraising event for the Pony Express. The first rodeo is in Ajo the second weekend in May.”

“Wrangler’s paying you to ride?”

“No. I’ve set up a website where people can pledge a specific dollar amount for each second I remain on the bull.”

“What happens if you get injured after the first rodeo and can’t ride?”

“That’s where you come in,” she said.

“Me?”

“Teach me how to ride without getting hurt.”

“If there was a way to do that, there’d be more bull riders in rodeo.” He wanted no part of her foolish scheme. “Sorry, no can do.”

“You’re the only person I trust,” she said.

“No.” Her father would have his head if he taught Lucy rodeo skills.

“Okay, then you must know someone on the circuit who’d be willing to show me the ropes.”

Was she kidding? Once the guy got a good look at Lucy’s pretty face and sexy body he’d try to do a lot more than just show her the ropes.

“If you won’t help, I’ll find a cowboy who will.” Lucy reached for the door handle.

He snagged her arm. “You’re dead set on riding bulls to raise money for the Pony Express?”

“I’ll do anything to keep the business running.”

A sixth sense warned Tony that helping Lucy was not in his best interest, but he didn’t trust anyone else to show her how to protect herself from serious injury.

Her blue-eyed gaze implored him. “If the Pony Express goes under then Michael will have died in vain.”

Nothing anyone said or did would validate Michael’s death, but Tony refrained from saying so.

“Every drunken cowboy I prevent from getting behind the wheel is a life that Michael’s death saved.”

Maybe Cal Durango wouldn’t object to Tony helping his daughter if he kept Lucy from killing or injuring herself. “Okay, I’m in, but I want something in return.”

“What?” she asked.

“Access to the Durango Gold Mine.”

“Dad said he’d speak with your supervisor about allowing the border patrol access to that area of the ranch.”

“I want to go out there before anyone else.” Tony wanted to be the one to find evidence that the property was being used to transport young girls through the desert.

“What if I can’t get my father to cooperate?”

“Then no bull-riding lessons.” He prayed she wouldn’t call his bluff.

“When do I get my first lesson?”

“Six o’clock tomorrow night at my mother’s.”

“You won’t cancel out on me?” she asked.

“You hold up your end of the bargain, and I’ll hold up mine.”

Lucy flashed her sassy dimples at Tony and got out of the truck. How the hell was he going to help Lucy and keep his hands to himself when each breathing, living part of him wanted to have his way with her?

Chapter Four

Sunday morning dawned bright and early—too early. Lucy had dropped off the last Pony Express passenger at 3:00 a.m. With only five hours of sleep under her belt, she dragged herself from bed and stumbled into the shower. The lukewarm water revived her, and thoughts of her first bull-riding lesson with Tony washed away the remaining vestiges of sleep.

She dressed quickly and pulled her damp hair into a ponytail before leaving her room and following the scent of freshly brewed coffee through the house. Today marked the two-year anniversary of her brother’s death. Bracing herself, she entered the kitchen, where her mother flipped pancakes at the stove and her father read the newspaper at the table.

“Good morning, Lucy.” Her mother smiled.

“Morning.” Lucy fetched the orange-juice pitcher from the fridge, poured herself a glass and sat at the table across from her father. “Good morning, Dad.”

An unintelligible grunt echoed from behind the paper.

“Thanks,” Lucy said when her mother placed a plate of bacon and a stack of pancakes on the table. Sunday was the one day of the week her mother cooked—the housekeeper had the day off.

“Is scrambled okay?” her mother asked.

“No.”

“Sure.” Lucy spoke at the same time as her father.

“You’ll eat whatever I put on the table, Cal.”

Yeah, Mom.
Lucy hid a smile behind a fake cough. Her father was the stereotypical spoiled, wealthy man who loved being coddled, but Lucy’s mother drew the line at bending over backward to please her husband.

“Is Hector feeling better?” She whisked eggs in a bowl then poured them into a frying pan.

Taking her cue from her parents, Lucy pretended this was just another ordinary day. “I hope so.” She yawned. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Her father ignored the conversation, continuing to read the paper while his food grew cold.

“What are your plans today?” her mother asked, setting the scrambled eggs on the table and taking a seat.

“I need to drop off the van at Hector’s and pick up my truck.” Lucy shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth and contemplated how to broach the subject of granting Tony access to the ranch. She tapped a finger against the newspaper. Her father folded one corner down and stared.

“Heard any news on the human-trafficking ring?” Lucy asked.

“I spoke with Jim Fencel.” Mr. Fencel was a member of the Arizona State Legislature. “He said the border patrol gets leads all the time that are dead ends.”

“What if this one isn’t a dead end and Mexican gang members are transporting kidnapped girls across the ranch, Cal?” Lucy’s mother joined the conversation.

“Border patrol helicopters fly over the ranch once a week and use heat-sensing cameras to track any movement on the ground. If there was activity on our property they would have notified me by now.”

The Durango Ranch encompassed 126 square miles and the area near the mine was dotted with thick scrub, offering ample cover for trespassers. A helicopter could fly overhead and not spot a thing. “It’s your civic duty to allow the border patrol access to the ranch,” Lucy’s mother said.

“My civic—”

“Cal,” she interrupted. “They’re helpless little girls.” She buttered a slice of toast. “And we can’t have our name associated with that kind of illegal activity.” Of course her mother would be concerned with protecting the Durango name.

“Dad, if cartel members believe our ranch is a safe haven and inaccessible by the border patrol, then it’s only a matter of time before they grow bolder and rob the house or steal our vehicles.”

“You’re being melodramatic, daughter.”

“When was the last time you drove to the mine?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“Eat.” Her mother pointed her fork at the remaining food on Lucy’s plate.

Ignoring the command, Lucy pleaded her case. “Mom and I won’t feel safe when you travel unless we know no one is hiding on the property.”

“I haven’t denied the border patrol access to the ranch. They’re taking their sweet time investigating.”

“Maybe they’re busy investigating another case. Tony could stop out there and have a look around.”

“I don’t want Bravo anywhere near the ranch.” Her father’s stubborn scowl provoked Lucy to speak without thinking.

“Do you hate Tony so much that you’d risk the ranch being vandalized or one of us getting abducted just to keep him from doing his job?”

Her father’s fist slammed down on the table, rattling the dishes. “Bravo’s the reason Michael’s not sitting at this table with us!”

Her mother’s fork clanged against her plate.

So much for ignoring the significance of the day. “It’s not Tony’s fault, Dad.”
It’s my fault.
Lucy’s conscience demanded she confess, but fear of jeopardizing the progress she’d made in her relationship with her father kept the truth bottled up inside her.

“Tony should have never left the bar if he knew Michael was drinking heavily.”

“You always put Michael on a pedestal, Dad, believing he could do no wrong.” Unlike her. “He was twenty-five. An adult. Michael was responsible for his own actions.”

Each night since her brother’s death Lucy went to bed and repeated in her head—
Michael was responsible for his own actions.
And each night she waited for the words to ring true in her heart.

Two years later she was still waiting.

“Bravo was Michael’s best friend,” her father said.

“In the beginning you forbade Michael to be friends with Tony,” Lucy’s mother reminded him.

“And for good reason. Look how things ended.”

Lucy changed tactics. “If you despise Tony that much, why not give him access to the ranch to prove you’re right about the cartel and he’s wrong?” Her father’s pain and bitterness over Michael’s death was so deeply entrenched that she didn’t see any other way to get him to agree to her request unless he believed it would put Tony in his place.

“You’re right.” Her father’s grim expression lightened. “Bravo needs to be taught a lesson in humility.”

Lucy choked on her orange juice. If anyone needed that lesson, it was the man sitting across the table from her. “So you’ll allow Tony to search the property?”

“Not alone. You go with him to make sure he doesn’t steal anything while he’s out there.”

Although the mine had closed, not all of the gold had been extracted from the Venus Vein—discovered in a network of underground tunnels. A cave-in near the vein had killed a miner, and after further testing, her father determined that it wasn’t worth risking more lives for the small amount of gold left in the shaft. He had officially shut down production in March 2001.

He pointed his finger at Lucy. “You take Bravo to the mine. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere else on the property.”

“Sure.” Sweet relief rushed through Lucy. Now, nothing would stop her from preparing for the Ajo rodeo. Whether Tony approved of her fundraising idea or not, he’d be forced to teach her basic bull-riding skills if he wanted access to the ranch.

Everything was falling into place, leaving her with only one worry—how best to tell her parents about her newest fundraising idea. She’d have to inform them soon, because she intended to post flyers in Stagecoach and Yuma. Sooner or later, word would get back to them and pandemonium would erupt. She rinsed her dirty dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. “I’ll be in my office for a couple of hours before I take the van back to Hector.”

“Your father and I are having dinner with the Friedans tonight,” her mother said. Robert Friedan was the branch manager of the First Trust Bank in Yuma—the bank her father kept part of his fortune in. “We won’t be home until late.”

“Have a nice time.” Lucy kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks for breakfast.”

The next few hours flew by as she made phone calls and sent out emails asking for help with the fundraiser. Her college friend Christine had offered to spearhead an Alpha Delta Pi pledge drive for the Pony Express. With Lucy’s sorority connections, she was able to convince Arizona State University and the University of Arizona to work their sorority-girl magic and collect donations from their sister chapters across the country. After discussing a PR campaign with Christine, Lucy designed a flyer and pledge card before finally leaving her office.

When she walked past Maddie’s cage, the boxer twitched her tail but didn’t move from her spot in the shade. Certain the dog knew the significance of today’s date, Lucy didn’t have the heart to leave her alone. “Wanna go for a ride, Maddie?”

Maddie sprang to her feet, her tail wagging faster than a windshield-wiper blade. Lucy snapped on her leash, and as soon as she opened the passenger-side door of the van, the dog jumped inside. Once Lucy got the air-conditioning running, she texted her mother that she was taking Maddie on errands with her, then headed for the main road with her canine partner.

* * *

“H
EY
, B
RAVO
.” Steve Hernandez paused in front of Tony’s desk. “Don’t you have Sundays off?”

“I’ve got paperwork to catch up on.” Tony had stopped at the office because he’d been tempted to hole up in his apartment all day and drink until the alcohol obliterated Michael’s death from his memory.

“A group of us are going to Buffalo Wild Wings after work.”

“I’ll take a rain check.” He shouldn’t be looking forward to giving Lucy her first bull-riding lesson, but spending time with her on the anniversary of Michael’s death felt strangely right.

“Hot date?” Steve grinned.

Lucy was definitely
h-o-t.
After the first time they’d made love, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her, wanting to savor the connection they’d shared. “No hot date,” he lied.

“You’re not still moping over your breakup with Evita, are you?”

Almost a year had passed since he’d ended his relationship with Evita, and to be honest, he only thought of her in passing. Tony shook his head. “I promised my mother I’d stop by and visit her tonight.” It wasn’t anyone’s business but Tony’s if he was meeting Lucy there.

“If you change your mind, we’ll be at the restaurant.”

As soon as Steve left, Tony’s boss poked his head out his office door. “Bravo, get in here.”

Deputy Chief Patrol Agent Cesar Romero’s abrupt demeanor didn’t faze Tony. The former Marine never minced words and rarely socialized with the men under his command. The boss man was all work and no play.

“Shut the door,” Romero said when Tony entered the office.

Tony did as ordered, then stood by the closed door until his boss nodded for him to sit in the chair across from the desk. “Did you finish the paperwork on the drug bust last week?”

“I emailed it to Rosalinda.” The office assistant was the go-to person for everything in the department. Nothing landed on the boss’s desk until it passed through Rosalinda’s hands.

“The human-trafficking ring is on the back burner until we finish investigating the four dead bodies found in the Hilo Basin.”

Tony had feared his boss wouldn’t take his hunch seriously. If Tony expected Romero’s help in securing a transfer to San Diego, he needed to make his boss look good. Finding evidence of trespassers on the Durango Ranch would earn him brownie points.

Romero shuffled through a stack of papers. “Anything new come up in your chat rooms?”

Each of the border patrol agents was assigned to an internet chat room where illegals talked about border crossings and drug trafficking. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Word came in a few minutes ago that a group of illegals were caught with explosives near Smuggler’s Gulch.” The gulch was a large rocky canyon that followed a dried-up riverbed along the California border.

“The men were members of the Sinaloa Cartel,” Romero said. Months ago his boss had predicted the famous cartel was on the verge of expanding their Texas operation to New Mexico and Arizona. Now there was proof the gang had infiltrated the Grand Canyon State.

“Then it’s possible the Sinaloa are behind the human-trafficking ring,” Tony said.

“Get me proof, Bravo, and I’ll back you one hundred percent.”

“Yes, sir.” Even if Lucy didn’t come through for him, Tony would find a way onto the Durango Ranch.

“That’s all. Get out of here.”

Tony left the office. He had an hour to kill before Lucy showed up at his mother’s and he planned to use the time to shower and change into a pair of shorts. He kept extra clothes at the trailer because he often crashed in the guest bedroom after pulling all-nighters on the job. Sunset Trails Mobile Home Park was closer to the border patrol station than his single-bedroom apartment on the north side of town.

When Tony arrived at his mother’s, Maria was sitting on the covered porch sipping lemonade. “This is a nice surprise,” she said as he climbed the steps. Today her hug was extra long—she remembered the importance of the date. He returned the hug, conveying without words how much her love meant to him. “Lucy’s coming over—” he glanced at his watch “—in a half hour.”

His mother sucked in a quiet breath. “But today’s the anniversary of Michael’s—”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

“Shouldn’t Lucy be with Cal and Sonja?”

“She wouldn’t come over if they had family plans.”

“I’ll throw together a tuna casserole.” Tony’s favorite comfort food. He followed his mother inside. “I haven’t seen Lucy in forever,” she said.

After all this time, she still had no idea he and Lucy had been involved in a relationship when Michael died.

“Lucy wants me to give her pointers on bull riding.” Tony walked down the narrow hallway of the double-wide, his mother hot on his heels.

“Lucy has no business on the back of a bull,” she said.

He entered the guest bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes. “She’s riding in the Ajo rodeo next month.”

Maria’s eyes rounded. “Cal and Sonja didn’t object?”

“Her parents don’t know.” Advertising the event would take care of that minor detail soon enough.

“Why in the world is Lucy rodeoing?”

“She’s trying to raise money for the Pony Express,” he said before shutting the bathroom door. Standing under the low-flow showerhead was like getting caught in a summer sprinkle rather than a dousing rainstorm. Mindful of the area’s water restrictions, he soaped up quickly and rinsed off. He spent most of his workday outside, requiring at least two showers per day in a state where water was a priceless commodity.