The Cowboy and the Angel (18 page)

“I’m going to make sure everything else is well under way. We’re pulling out in about two hours.”

“How is this chaos going to be ready to leave in two hours?” Angela whispered to Silvie as Mike walked back toward the barn.

Silvie laughed. “That man is a magician. You’ll see. Just make sure you’re not the one holding up the show.” She rose and carried both babies into the house for breakfast.

D
EREK GLANCED AT
the woman seated next to him in the truck. Whose bright idea had it been to put them in a truck together for three hours? The last fifteen minutes of awkward silence was enough to make the tension between them obvious. So far, Angela had spent each mile ignoring him, making it clear she had no interest in conversation. He wasn’t sure what had happened since yesterday afternoon at his house, but it hung in the air, dragging out every second into a roar of silence in the cab. Maybe knowing what sort of man he was had extinguished any attraction she might have had. It was probably for the best, but he couldn’t help feeling disillusioned.

He reached over and turned on the radio. A country song blared through the speakers of the truck. If she wanted to ignore him, he could do the same. She glanced his way, and then turned back to the window almost immediately, watching the miles of scenery slide by and fade into the distance. After another twenty minutes, he couldn’t take it and clicked the radio off.

“Did I do something to piss you off?”

She glanced his way, looking bored. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting like I have the plague.” Derek’s hands squeezed the steering wheel and he took a deep breath. “So, what’d I do?”

Angela shook her head and shrugged. “After yesterday I just . . .” The ring of her phone interrupted what she was about to say. She glanced at the screen, biting her bottom lip nervously. “Crap. I have to take this,” she explained as she pushed the button.

Derek wondered if she really didn’t want to take the call or if she was just avoiding talking to him. He saw a flicker of nervousness in her eyes and she sat upright, looking straight ahead.

“Hey, Joe.” He could barely hear a muffled male voice on the other end of the line. “I know, but it’s been a busy morning. We’re already on our way to the rodeo grounds.”

Was that a tremor he heard in her voice? Where was the confident woman who usually argued with him?

“It went well. I might have a lead, but I can’t really talk right now.”

She glanced at Derek and he arched his brow at her in question.
A lead?
That didn’t sound like it would bode well for his family. “You aren’t coming until Saturday? That might be a bit of a problem.”

She sighed and he wondered who this Joe might be. Obviously it was someone she worked with, but he didn’t like the worried tremor in her voice any more that he liked the direction the conversation was taking.

“I can’t get into it right now. I guess Saturday will be fine. I’m doing the best I can,” she muttered through clenched teeth into the phone before disconnecting the call.

“Trouble?” He wanted to press her for information, to find out what her “lead” might be, but he also wanted to find out what had brought the shadow of apprehension to her eyes again.

“My boss,” she said, pocketing the phone as if that should explain everything.

“I know how that is. Damn demanding bosses.” He glanced sideways to see if she’d detected the teasing note in his words. He caught her trying to hide a smile, even as she bit on the corner of her lower lip nervously. What he wouldn’t give right now to nibble the soft flesh, even in the face of her indifference today.

“Look, I don’t know what happened yesterday after you went to town, and you don’t have to tell me, but are we okay?”

She looked him in the eye and he could see the apology there. It was the last thing he wanted to see in her eyes. It meant she was about to do something that would damage the tenuous connection they were building, something she felt the need to apologize for. She shrugged and looked back to the window.

Derek clenched his jaw and looked out the windshield. “So, we’re back to this? You’re the reporter bound to blow the whistle on the villainous rodeo industry, and I’m the depraved stock contractor abusing animals for fun?” He shook his head in disgust.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, Angel.” He couldn’t look at her. He was afraid she would see his disappointment and regret. He hadn’t been able to change her mind.

“I don’t have a lead, and I don’t know what I’m reporting,” she confessed. “That’s the problem.”

“Why can’t you just report the truth?”

“Because they don’t want the truth,” she pointed out. “And there’s not a damn thing I can do to change their minds.” She turned back to the window, effectively ending the conversation.

This was going to be a long weekend.

W
HILE THE MEN
unloaded the animals into various pens, Sydney asked Angela to help her prepare lunch at her trailer. Angela hesitated to join her, worried Sydney might see through her confident façade, but she didn’t want to take her frustration out on the other woman. Joe was furious with her lack of details, refusing to send a crew until late Saturday evening, after the performance. If she didn’t come up with something in the next two days, Joe was going to pull the story and crush her chance to get her father into rehab.

After her conversation with Dr. Bradford, she recognized there was no animal abuse, at least not with this stock contractor. Sure, there were ways professional rodeos could eliminate some of the risk for the animals, but this was an issue filled with gray areas. Without any evidence of abuse, she was having a difficult time finding another angle that would make this story worth the station’s time.

Angela slathered condiments on the bread Sydney had spread over the counter and table as they prepared sandwiches for the entire crew in assembly-line fashion. She sighed, wishing that one breath could convey all of the frustration, anger, and misery she felt. She refused to entertain the thought that she might be returning to her apartment sooner than she ever anticipated and without any hope to offer her father.

“You’re kind of quiet today. Are you okay?”

“I guess.” She reached for the lunchmeat, slapping slices onto the bread. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sydney glanced at her as she put cheese onto the sandwiches. “I’m a pretty good listener.”

Normally Angela would have refused. She didn’t like listening to others complain, and she wasn’t one to confide her secrets with strangers, but she was at a loss. She had nowhere to turn for solutions. “I’m not sure what to do about this story. It’s pretty obvious you guys aren’t abusing your stock. I’ve tried to get the station manager to spin the story the other direction, making you the victims of a witch-hunt, but they aren’t having any part of it. They want the ratings that controversy brings, and making you guys out as the hero won’t cut it.”

Angela slumped into the chair as Sydney finished the sandwiches. “If I can’t find a story before tomorrow, I’ll be back on the air doing ribbon cuttings and covering charity events by Monday.” She rested her chin in her hand, watching Sydney pile the sandwiches onto a platter.

“You want more,” she clarified. “I know that feeling. Can’t you just go to a bigger station?”

Angela shook her head. “I can’t give up this job until I have something better. I have . . . responsibilities I can’t ignore.”

Sydney arched a brow and tipped her chin up, staring at her curiously. Angela cursed herself for not being more careful with her choice of words, and she was grateful when Sydney didn’t pursue it. “Can you take some time off?”

Angela shook her head. “They don’t like when your face is off the air if you’re the one pulling in ratings. I already had to pull some strings to get them to let me off now. They aren’t happy about it and they’re getting impatient.”

“I have an idea,” Sydney said, motioning for Angela to grab several bags of potato chips and a tray of sandwiches. “Let’s get these boys fed and we can work on the details over the weekend. I think between the two of us, we can convince your boss to take this angle.” She winked at her. “I’d bet Derek would be happy to help us.”

Angela rolled her eyes as they headed out to feed the crew. Apparently the attraction between them hadn’t escaped anyone’s radar. If everyone else could already sense it, Joe would be sure to notice it when he came out to shoot video. How in the world was she going to hide it from him?

T
HE ANIMALS HAD
been rested and watered at the stockyard, reloaded into the trailer, and unloaded a second time at the rodeo grounds. While the cowboys made sure the animals were settled, Angela helped Sydney take care of the baby and set up a buffet style meal of barbecued hamburgers, potato salad, fruit salad and grilled asparagus. Once the meal had been eaten and cleared away, Sydney had brought out several chocolate cakes, frosted to perfection. She refused to allow Angela’s assistance in cleaning up, insisting that she sit and take notes.

With full bellies and gregarious companionship, Angela sat outside Sydney and Scott’s trailer with several of the cowboys she’d met on the ranch, all circled around a propane fire pit. She was amused as they recounted stories she was sure they shared at every opportunity. Each cowboy tried to outdo the last, their exaggerations growing wilder with each tale, and she couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes slid past Jake, the most boisterous of the men, as he spun another story about Sydney and Scott’s first meeting. She glanced at the pair standing just outside the circle, their young daughter asleep against Scott’s chest and Sydney curled under his other arm. It wasn’t hard to see they were very much in love, but according to Jake’s recounting, Scott had run her over with his horse and she’d insulted him. Angela laughed with the rest of the crew and sipped her bottle of water.

She searched the faces around the fire pit for a particular cowboy missing from the festivities. She spotted Derek leaning against the back of a horse trailer, watching from a distance. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, listening but not participating. She could barely make out a faint smile on his lips and wondered why he didn’t join in the fun. She rose, dropping her notebook onto the folding chair before walking toward him. He straightened and tucked his hands into his front pockets nonchalantly when he noticed her approach. She wondered at his segregation.

“Having fun?” His voice was deep and slightly raspy after hollering at the crew while unloading.

She smiled. “Those guys are something else. I thought I could tell a good story, but they are amazing.”

He returned her grin. “Yeah, well, you probably shouldn’t believe half of what they say.”

Angela glanced over her shoulder in time to see Sydney wink at her while the rest of the group continued to laugh loudly at Jake’s story. “I don’t know.” She looked back at Derek, his face half hidden by shadows, and her heart skipped at his rakish appearance. “They’ve had quite a few tales about you. You seem to be quite the ladies’ man.”

His face grew serious. “Like I said, you probably shouldn’t believe even half.”

Angela took a step closer to him, closing the physical distance between them but unsure how to close the gap her story was widening between them. If she and Sydney could come up with a better story, she prayed they could bridge it. Her fingers itched to touch the rasp of his day-old beard growth. She laid her hand on his chest, feeling the muscles twitch beneath her fingers. Her breath quickened as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist gently.

“What is it you want from me, Angel?” His voice was husky, vibrating her nerve endings with shivers of delight.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Why wouldn’t I call you that?” His eyes were completely shadowed now, only the distant fire reflecting and giving them a dangerous gleam within. “I’m just not sure where you’ve been sent from.”

It hurt knowing he didn’t trust her, but she couldn’t blame him. She’d opened up to him, only to close herself off with the phone call from Joe, making it clear that her job came first. What if Joe forced her to pursue this story for ratings? Would she sacrifice this family and destroy their business to propel her career and help her father? Could she trust herself to make the right decision, even at the cost of her own future, or her father’s?

She leaned closer, feeling his breath on her face as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for . . .” She wasn’t sure how to finish. He saw her as a threat and her shallow words wouldn’t change that. “I’m doing the best I can to not hurt anyone. I’m sorry I can’t make you any other promises right now.”

“Angel, promises aren’t what I want.” His thumb traced the line of her jaw, running along the outer shell of her ear. She could hear the rasp of desire in his voice as he stared at her lips. “But I can’t give in to anything that will jeopardize this family, not again. Unfortunately, right now, that includes you.”

She felt her heart sink. He had no idea they shared the same risk—the future of her family was at stake if she didn’t get a story. In a sick twist of fate, getting her story might just make her future bittersweet now that she’d met a man who could scale the protective walls she’d built. Derek dropped his hands and walked to where the others stood around the fire, leaving her trusting that her father’s chance at sobriety was worth the price of her broken heart.

Chapter Fourteen

A
NGELA GROANED AS
the alarm sounded the next morning and Sydney slipped from the bed. “You have fifteen minutes while I feed the horses to jump in the shower,” she warned as she laughed. “The baby will be up in about thirty minutes so you’ll be getting up either way.”

Angela cracked one eye open just enough to see Sydney pull a sweatshirt from the small closet before heading outside.

“Why does everything seem to happen early with you people?” Angela asked as she pulled the sheet over her head and snuggled under the warm blankets, wishing she could go back to her dream. She knew Sydney wouldn’t feel one ounce of sympathy about making her take a cold shower if she went back to sleep.