Not My 1st Rodeo (17 page)

About the Author

Award-winning author Sarah M. Anderson may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. With a lifelong love of horses and two history teachers for parents, she had plenty of encouragement to learn everything she could about the tribes of the Great Plains.

When she started writing, it wasn't long before her characters found themselves out in South Dakota among the Lakota Sioux. She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they'd go.

When she's not helping out at her son's school or walking her rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well-tolerated by her wonderful husband. Readers can find out more about Sarah's love of cowboys and Indians at:
www.sarahmanderson.com
or Facebook (Sarah-M-Anderson-Author).

You can also find Sarah at Twitter: @SarahMAnderson1, Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/SarahMAnderson
or contact Sarah by snail mail at Sarah M. Anderson, 200 N 8th ST 193, Quincy, IL 62301-9996.

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Jenna Bayley-Burke

Dedication

For Donna, Sarah and Heidi, who believed I could.

Chapter One

“You're not divorced.”

Jacy Weston cringed as her best friend peered over her shoulder. She should have been finished long before now, but registering online dating profiles was a tedious task.

“Well, I'm not married. And I thought it would be harsh to kill off someone just so I could register for notmy1strodeo.com. I only have three options—divorced, widowed or complicated.” She pushed her red hair behind her ears and tried to refocus.

Carly took chair from the dining room and joined her at the antique secretary where the computer lived. “So choose complicated.”

“I think that means you're sneaking around. I don't want someone who'd go out with a married woman.” Jacy kept her eyes on the screen. With her profile complete, she could finish this mess and head back to work vaccinating the herd before her brothers wondered what she was up to.

“Catch me up. What the hell are you doing?” Carly pulled her dark locks over her shoulder and started braiding them.

“Signing up with the site Slade's using. It's designed for people who lead a country lifestyle. If I have to just have lunch with one more boring metrosexual who starts saying howdy and yeehaw as soon as I tell him I live on a ranch, I'll start sedating them. So I'm trying to find a guy who understands that the actors in spaghetti westerns aren't cowboys.”

She secured her thick braid with a band she'd been wearing around her wrist. “Slade said the site was worthless.”

“My brothers all have the attention spans of a fly on a horse's ass. Besides, this site is less of a time suck for women because the guy does all the work. Or at least starts the conversation. He tips his hat, and it is up to you on how to respond. Wink, smile or look away.”

“It tells the guys to look away? I can't imagine your big brother taking that very well.”

“Who cares? This way I can be the one to weed out the creepers. I want to get my first time over with, but not enough to bend over for some loser.”

Carly held up a hand. “Whoa there, sister friend. Two things. People have sex differently than animals, and since when are you interested in giving up your V-card?”

Jacy turned to her best friend. “I know how people have sex. But I don't want some big production. Just over and done with and no longer a topic of conversation that guys think is either a challenge or a code word for commitment. Virginity is something for the young. I mean, in this day and age, being a thirty-year-old virgin is ridiculous.”

“Or a sign of character and good upbringing.”

“More like overprotective brothers and a veterinary program that left me no time to sleep let alone date, and now an insane work schedule with the practice covering three counties and my responsibilities here at the ranch.” Jacy shook her head. “I should've listened to you and done it that spring break we went to Lake Havasu.”

“Yes, your first and only spring break. You studied the entire time.” Carly sighed. “Is this really just about your birthday?”

She shrugged. “It's a milestone birthday. Think of it as the gift I'm giving myself.”

“That's some seriously creative reasoning. Let me find you a few options. Your first time shouldn't be with a stranger.”

“Oh, no, I'm not going to embarrass myself with someone I have to see again. Besides, you know my brothers have scared off every guy in our age group in this county and all the neighboring ones. I didn't get asked for a date once in high school. Remember the way they ran off guys when we were in college? No one local, no one hoping to bag the Weston daughter to get themselves a job on the ranch. That's why I filled out the profile as if I'm from Southern Oregon instead of here in Opal Creek.”

“You've put a lot of thought into this devirginizing plan of yours. I mean, you've divorced yourself and moved. Are you still a veterinarian? Did you change your name?”

She'd shortened her last name from Weston to West but didn't care to own up to it. “I'm going to be me, just a few counties south. I want a moment to be something other than the good girl from Weston Ridge, you know?”

“Not really. I grew up in a trailer, remember? I can't see being part of the Weston Ridge legacy as a problem. Or why you'd want to toss away your first time now. You've waited this long.”

“I should have experimented the way everyone else did. Now it makes me a freak.”

“That's not what makes you a freak.” Carly smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. “Driving three hours south to bust a hustle does.”

“I don't want it to be some big event. The first time is always awkward and horrible, why not handle it now and move on with my life?”

“My first time was lovely.”

Jacy cleared her throat. Things had been awkward enough when Carly and Ace had been together, and two years post break-up things still hadn't returned to normal. “We're not discussing my brother. Any of the four of them, not in this conversation. And you're not to tell them either.”

“Yeah, I'm sure Ace would love to not speak to me about your sex life. But I think this is a horrible idea. You've never even gone below the belt with a guy. You think you're really going to be able to lie back and think of England with a stranger?”

Jacy logged out of the program and then stood to face her friend. “I don't have a booty call waiting the way you do. Guys do not take a number for a chance at a make-out session with me. I have to do something.”

“If I'm your bad-girl mentor, then you're never going to be able to pull this off. Hell, I couldn't do it, and I exercise my flirt muscles at every opportunity. I mean, you're going to meet this dude and get naked with him an hour later. And then what? Drive home?” Carly gave a shudder. “Unless you're more like your brothers than I realized, casual-sex Fridays are not your thing.”

“I'm not planning on making this a thing. Just a one off.”

“Then let's go out this weekend. We'll hit Duke's and let guys buy us drinks until you're ready to be an orgasm donor.”

“I hate bars. And drunk dudes I've known since the sandbox do not appeal. I hate going to the meet market, which is why I shop for my arm candy online.”

“Right. It has nothing to do with being socially stunted because you prefer animals to people.”

“Case in point.”

“Ouch. I want it on record I think this is a bit over the top.”

“Noted. Now I'm going to get back to pissing off cattle.”

“Mama,” Ray called from the back door. He didn't have time to be summoned to the house today. Or any day, really. He hung up his hat and then pulled off his boots before making his way to the kitchen.

Of course, she was right there, cutting his sandwich on the diagonal the way she'd always done. As if he came to the house for lunch on the regular. He ought to be at the bunk house with the crew, making sure they were ready to head out and repair the south fence.

Ray poured the lemonade on the table into the glasses she'd set out, then pulled out her chair. His mother carried the plates over and took the seat he offered. He joined her and tucked into his sandwich. The sooner he got back out on the ranch the better.

“Busy day?” She watched him eat until he felt under inspection.

“The south pasture fence needs mending, the farrier is due by three and I promised Lad I'd get Chewbacca out of his way.”

“Did he pay the stud fee yet? Because if not, he can feed that bull until he settles up.”

“We worked something out.” He settled easier into his chair. If all she wanted to do was talk business, he'd be out the door before the hands finished with lunch.

“Ray, we cannot support half the county. The farrier doesn't take payment in kind, and neither does our crew.”

“Mama, we're having a good year. Lad had to take a loan to fix his barn. It's the right thing to do. They're good neighbors.”

She let out a long sigh. “Well, somebody raised you right.”

“Tragic, ain't it?” He finished off his lemonade and poured himself more.

“It's too bad you don't have children of your own to raise.”

There it was. He picked up his dishes and marched into the kitchen. He'd suspected she was up to this again.

“You haven't been on your September date. You promised.”

“You blackmailed me into that promise. You have two other sons to needle for grandchildren. Bother them.”

“They're not ready. You will make someone an amazing husband.”

“Yeah, Kendra sure thought so.” Four years had passed and the failure still gnawed at him.

“Oh, let it go. The whining can't last longer than the marriage. Besides, Kendra's painfully stupid.”

“Says my mother. Who faked tears to get me to sign up for a dating website.”

“They were real.” She put on a pout worthy of the crocodile tears she's shed at her last birthday.

“I don't have time for this. Notmy1strodeo.com is nothing but a collection of women with baggage I don't want to carry.”

“You promised one date a month for a year.”

“And after this year you promised to never mention dating to me again. If it's going to happen, it'll happen.”

“You spend all your time with cowboys, cattle and horses. There's no way to meet women in your life. I had to take action.”

He raised a brow, not wanting to tell his mother most of the dates the site brokered were nothing more than a call to action. Which he'd learned quickly not to answer unless he wanted to deal with a woman blowing up his phone for weeks afterwards.

“Just tip your hat at your top three and be done with it. There's still time to get a date for Saturday. And who knows, you might like her and have a second date next weekend for your October. Imagine that, Ray. A second date.”

His brothers really needed to man up and get girlfriends so their mom would get off his back. He'd tried marriage, failed spectacularly, and had no desire to repeat the mistake. But since his younger brothers were off playing rodeo cowboy and country songwriter, he knew the odds of either growing up any time soon were long.

“I already logged you in and searched through the new members.”

“Mama, so help me, if you pretended to be me—”

“I don't catfish. I'm just trying to save you some time.”

“How do you know what catfishing is?” He settled into the wooden chair in front of the kitchen desk where his mother made her office.

“I'm more current than you, cowboy. You don't even have a television in your cabin.”

The screen showed his mother's choices, three brunettes who looked too similar to his ex. He'd had a type but had learned five years ago it was the wrong one. He refreshed the options. A blonde equestrian standing beside her show horse. Too much work. Another brunette using the confederate flag as a dress. Not going there. A fresh-faced redhead with an impish grin.

He clicked on the profile of the vet from one county over. Divorced, no kids. Hadn't been married a year. Sounded like someone he knew all too well. He tipped his hat and logged off.

“Did you choose three?” His mother turned his way as he made his escape.

“It's handled.”

“You made a date already?”

“Mama, you'll get your September date if I have to go hang out at Trophy Room. I'm not spending another year like this one.”

“Me either,” she muttered, returning to the dishes.

Chapter Two

Jacy locked her bedroom door, which she hadn't done since she moved home after vet school. With both her younger brothers back at the ranch, she didn't dare check notmy1strodeo.com downstairs. She lay atop her made bed and smoothed her hand across the first and only quilt she'd ever made. The collection of horse fabric had been clever to a pre-teen, but it seemed too busy now. But since it had taken her six months, she'd use it until it fell apart.

She opened the dating app on her phone and groaned. This dating thing was worse than a desk job. She propped herself against the pillows to peruse the hat tippers. She immediately set a filter to weed out everyone over fifty. Should have been more careful about that.

Cowboy number one had a great photo. He seemed to have been snapped unaware, staring out at a grassy pasture, a wide grin lifting his stubbled cheeks. Divorced, under forty, married less than a year, no kids. Ray Mitchell's light brown hair had a little curl and his body looked great beneath the gray T-shirt. In fact, his whole profile made her think twice about hers. She shouldn't have used the headshot her mother had snapped for the veterinary clinic website. Maybe she could get Carly to take one that showed more personality.

She shook her head. No, this wasn't about showcasing herself. This was just about finding someone to hook up with. She winked at his profile and then scrolled to the next. And the next, and on until she'd told more men to look away than she'd thought possible on a profile that had only been active for six hours.

A woodpecker knock sounded from her phone as the app lit up with a message alert. It took her a minute to figure out how to access it.

“Duck or Beaver?”

When she saw the simple question, she had to smile. Most guys opened the conversation by either telling her she was beautiful or asking if her hair was naturally red.

“Black and orange forever!”

She'd much rather talk about her alma mater than discuss her hair. Unless he was a duck, because the school rivalry in Oregon was enough to keep him from being a contender. One university was known for football and lawyers while hers actually taught useful things.

“Animal Management '05”

“Pre-vet med '09 and DVM '13”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. Thank goodness she'd thought to shorten her name. He'd been on the OSU campus with Ace and Slade, but before she'd made it there. Bullet dodged.

“Did you Steer-a-year?”

“No extracurriculars. Worked weekends as a vet-tech, so didn't have time for any clubs.”

“Clubs at OSU mean something different than at most schools.”

“Thank goodness.”

Her eyes widened and she wanted to reach into cyberspace and grab the text back. She didn't need him knowing she hated places like that. Maybe he was looking for a fun type. Girls who wanted to sleep with a guy right off probably did that kind of thing.

“Agreed. Waste of time.”

“I'm more of the up-early than the late-night type.”

“Me too. Can I call you? I hate texting.”

Her hopeful heart gave a squeeze and then kicked up a notch. She needed to ask him out, put her plan into motion. She texted her number and prayed he didn't have a squeaky voice.

The dinner bell sounded on her phone and her heart jumped. She cleared her throat before answering in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. “Hello?”

“Jacy? It's Ray.” He had one of those warm whiskey voices that she found so sexy.

“Hi.” Think of something to say. Something worldly, interesting.

“Hi.”

“I don't know what to say.” She couldn't help the laugh. He joined in and her pulse skipped at the sound of his mellow baritone.

“I don't know who came up with internet dating, but they should have also developed a way out of awkward conversations.”

“Right? It's all a gamble until you see the person up close and can see if they even resemble their profile. And even then, some computer nerd who never had a date wrote a program that thinks you and this person will get along. And then you go home thinking you've been punked by a TV show.” She wrinkled her nose. Rambling, so attractive.

“You've just described my last year. Do you look like your picture?”

“Mostly. My mom did it for the office website. What about you?”

“My mother took it when I wasn't looking. She liked it.”

She cleared her throat. This could be a deal breaker. “Do you live at home with your mother?”

He gave a chuckle. “I'm not one of those. We're on the same property, but I have my own place.”

Which meant he had a bed. She sighed in relief. “I can't judge. My mother is down the hall and I've got two brothers downstairs.” Crap, she sounded pathetic. “But it's only because I'm mobile for work. Sometimes I don't make it back home for a few days, so taking care of my own place would be a challenge.”

“You don't have to defend yourself.”

“I know. I'm just nervous. I'm bad on the phone.”

“So I'm not a fan of texting, and you're not into phones. I guess that means we'll have to meet in person.”

She pumped her fist in the air. “I'd like that.”

“Where will you be this weekend?”

She pouted, not sure what he meant.

“You said you had to travel for work.”

“Oh, right. I'm at the wildlife park outside of Roseburg until Saturday morning.”

“Okay. Do you want me to drive up there or would you like to come here on your way south?”

“I'll come there. Where do you want to meet?” A heaviness settled in her chest. She'd told him she lived on the opposite end of the state. If she went to him, her drive home would be an extra two hours. But if he came to her, there was a chance someone at the park might mention something. Lying sucked hard.

“Um, depends on when you're free. Becky's for coffee, Trophy Room for drinks?”

“Coffee is good.” That way she could still get home at a decent hour. She was expected to be home on Sunday, and if they went out for drinks, she wouldn't be. Though she might be more relaxed if she knocked a few back before trying to knock boots. He spoke before she could change her answer.

“Becky's at eight?”

“That sounds great.” She had so much to Google. Ray, directions, Becky's. This was why she'd never tried to get laid before. Too damn much work.

“Thanks, Jacy.” He took a deep breath. “I'm going to be disappointed if your hair isn't actually red.”

She tugged on her standard-issue ponytail. “You won't be disappointed. I promise.”

Becky glared down at Ray as she poured his coffee. The disapproving expression had to be courtesy of his mother. She'd worn a matching one for the last two days, insisting that coffee wasn't really a date. She'd been so ornery about it, he'd tried to arrange to meet Jacy last night, but she'd been on mustang watch at the wildlife park an hour north.

“Thank you, Miss Becky.” He leveled his gaze at the cafe owner, wishing the town wasn't small enough for everyone to know his business.

“She's late.” Her ruddy face pulled lower. “Probably thinks you were kidding about coffee.”

“She's on her way.” He ran his fingers over his phone, where he'd found a picture of a newborn zebra and her text,
“Running
late”
, when he awoke.

“You sure? Because I put aside cinnamon rolls and I don't want to waste them.”

He flipped over the empty coffee mug beside his and gave his best smile. “Warm them up.”

“Cream and sugar?” She laid the sarcasm on thicker than the meringue on her famous pies.

“We'll find out soon enough.”

After an exaggerated eye roll, she made her rounds sprinkling sweetness on all the other customers in the crowded restaurant. Next time, he'd tell his mother
after
the obligatory date. He didn't need the opinions of women who hadn't dated this century on what constituted a date. Life had changed since dinner and a movie. No one took that kind of time anymore. Dating sites did the weeding out, and coffee or drinks decided if you might actually be worth a few hours. He didn't like it anymore than they did, but the game played on.

Trailers and RVs lumbered down the highway in front of the restaurant. The parking lot had filled up as he'd waited. He sipped the scalding coffee and stared out the window, wishing he cared less. They'd had two abbreviated conversations since he'd asked her to coffee. Both times, she'd been in the middle of some sort of animal emergency. Maybe a colicky cow or lame sheep had trumped him again.

A giant black truck pulled off the highway, topped by an equally oversized cabover camper. Curiosity had him wondering just where that behemoth would park, until he spied a red-haired driver heading right towards his motorcycle and blocking it in. Not that he could make a run for it, but still.

He'd bet the roof light bar could illuminate an entire barn. Her truck made his look like a pasture wagon. He stood as she disappeared from sight and grinned when she pushed open the door. A vision even more enticing than her profile photo had hinted at.

Long red hair gleamed over her shoulders and she looked younger than twenty-nine with her fresh face smiling and makeup free. A blue and green plaid shirt covered most of her, a white tank top and dark jeans took care of the rest. She was shorter than he'd figured, with unexpected curves that had him wishing he'd pushed for a dinner date. She walked towards him, her smile brightening with every step of her mud-speckled boots.

“Ray?” She held out her hand. He took it in his, impressed by her firm grip. “Sorry I'm late. I meant to be on time. And then there was no parking space so I've blocked someone in.”

“It's my bike, so you're in the clear.”

Her pink cheeks darkened. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to trap you, I promise.”

“Don't worry about it.” He motioned to their booth and glanced back at a gaping Becky. His mother would hear about the pretty redhead before Jacy had her first sip of coffee.

Jacy bumped into the table as she slid in, apologizing again. “I'm messing this up, aren't I?”

“It's fine, really. Animals can't tell time. I get it.”

“Thanks. I didn't expect anything to happen while I was on watch. Having extra vets come in is really a precaution. I've been there a dozen times before with nothing to do but watch monitors. And then we realized the zebra was foaling so we headed out. It's so amazing to watch them foal naturally, without intervention. We waited to make sure the foal could stand and nurse. She let us close enough to iodine the umbilicus before she decided the show was over. It's one of those things that makes me think we ought to let horses foal in the field, but then I think of postnatal infections and what would happen if the mare needed help and we didn't know and birthing onto straw rather than dirt and—” She sighed and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I'm rambling. Sorry. I do that sometimes. Okay, all the time.”

“It's fine. Better to talk about animals than the weather.” He reached out and rested his fingers against her flannel-covered arm. He liked that she was talking, filling in the usual silence that came before the job-interview portion of a first date.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I'm excited. And nervous. And severely under-caffeinated.”

Ray motioned toward the coffee, noticing how her hazel eyes shone. “There is coffee.”

“Good.” She wrapped her hands around her mug and lifted it. She took in a deep breath and smiled. “This stuff is so strong I'll wake up in two minutes. I'll drink, you talk.”

“I don't have anything as interesting as a zebra happening in my life. My morning was chores and this afternoon I have to reposition a bull.”

“What kind?” She sipped at the coffee Becky served cowboy strong without wincing.

“Angus with enough Brahma to make him punchy. Bones spent two years on the circuit, so he likes to show off.”

“They're fun to watch, but treating them is a nightmare.”

“Bones puts on a good show, but he's highly motivated by food. Back in his day, he was impossible, but that's the point of a bull. I wouldn't want to draw a mild one.”

She set her empty mug down with a clunk. “You rodeo?”

“Not since college, and that was team roping. Bones is the first bull I trained. Why? Are you against the show?” As a bucking-bull breeder, he'd always been involved in the circuit. But there was more money in providing the livestock than trying to out-cowboy some dude in pearl snaps.

“No, I just didn't realize you were in the game. I work some of the shows, that's all.”

“And like any smart woman, you've learned not to trust a man married to the rodeo. I get it.” From her fake smile, he guessed that's what had ended her short marriage. He couldn't blame her a bit. “I'm not much for going to the show myself, unless it's to see how our stock is performing.”

She gave a shrug as Becky appeared with giant warm cinnamon rolls dripping with icing and a refill of coffee.

“Anything else for you two? Cream, sugar?”

Jacy nodded, her shining hair swirling around her shoulders. “I would do anything for a plate of bacon.”

Becky pointed her coffee pot at him. “If you'll go out on a second date with this one, I'll bring you a mountain. What do you say, Ray? Think she'll see you again, or should I up the ante and bring out pig candy?”

He leveled his gaze at her until Jacy's lilting laughter broke through. “By all means, bring on the big guns.”

“I like her already.” Becky gave him a wink before retreating to the kitchen.

Jacy scooped up some icing with her fork and brought it to her mouth. She had soft full lips, perfect for kissing, or other things. Her eyes closed and she gave a little moan that sparked something in places that shouldn't be active this early in the morning. At least not in public.