Chapter One
The bulls had arrived.
Fighting the knot in her belly, barrel racer Jordan Shore gripped the corral railing as the stock truck made its way through the night-darkened rodeo grounds. Whinnies from the nearby horse barn mixed with bellows from the soon-to-be unloaded Brahmas.
She’d arrived at the county fairgrounds the day before the rodeo was set to begin, but where her fellow competitors were primarily concerned with getting settled in, she’d come early so she could study the Brahmas.
So she could come face-to-face with her fears.
Whoever was driving the stock truck handled it as if he’d been jockeying the unwieldy thing forever, expertly backing up until it was only a couple of feet from the corral where the bulls would be contained until their event. Shivering, she sensed the animals’ impatience at being penned up. If she had the brains of a gnat, she’d leave, but even with her heart pounding and her surgically repaired right leg aching, she held her ground.
If she didn’t, she might never win the biggest round of her life.
Mercury lights illuminated much of the grounds, but back here behind the outbuildings, deep shadows provided the perfect opportunity for her nightmares to breed. And, boy, were they, making her sweat.
Then the driver opened the door and jumped down from the high cab, and she couldn’t breathe.
Cougar Lighthorse.
A sharp pain turned her attention to her right palm. She’d been gripping the railing so tight she’d forced a sliver into her flesh. Yanking it out with her teeth briefly distracted her from the reality of Cougar’s presence. By the time she’d turned her attention back to him, the tall, solid Native American and whoever had been in the passenger’s seat had moved to the rear stock door.
Wiping her sweating hands on her well-worn jeans, she hurried around to the back of the corral. Her riding boots thudded dully on the packed earth, echoing her heartbeat. Given his need to concentrate on what he was about to do, she doubted Cougar was paying attention to anything else. Good. This way she had more time to come to grips, to comprehend, to resign herself. And, if truth be known, to ogle.
She was asking herself if two men on foot really could unload who knows how many 2,000-pound bulls when several mounted cowboys appeared. They spoke briefly with Cougar, but the bulls’ continual bellowing made it impossible for her to hear anything.
One of the men on horseback opened the corral gate. A minute later, the rear door to the stock truck swung open. Heart in her throat, she frantically looked around. If one of those monsters broke loose, where could she run? The barn? Could she reach it in time?
Stop it! Damn it, get over it!
To her surprise, although the bulls charged down the ramp and into their temporary home, they almost immediately calmed down. Of course, finding hay and water waiting for them had a great deal to do with their reaction. In less than five minutes, a dozen Brahmas had been secured in the sturdy enclosure. It was so dark in there, she barely glimpsed their massive forms. Morning was soon enough for that stroke-threatening task.
Male voices tore her attention from the bulls. Cougar and the others had gathered near the truck’s cab. Occasional laughter told her the conversation was less than serious. Although thoughts of being surrounded by so much testosterone intimidated her, she wanted to laugh with them, to absorb their strength and competence, to thank Cougar for holding her tight and strong and safe during that memorable day a year ago when pain and panic had chewed at her sanity.
Heat touched her nerve endings. Disconcerted, she closed her hand around her throat. If a bull— No! What she felt spoke of something far different from danger, at least the kind she’d experienced thanks to one of those beasts. This was a hell of a lot more carnal. If she didn’t—
Cougar had left the others and was walking toward her.
Her legs
The bulls had arrived.
Fighting the knot in her belly, barrel racer Jordan Shore gripped the corral railing as the stock truck made its way through the night-darkened rodeo grounds. Whinnies from the nearby horse barn mixed with bellows from the soon-to-be unloaded Brahmas.
She’d arrived at the county fairgrounds the day before the rodeo was set to begin, but where her fellow competitors were primarily concerned with getting settled in, she’d come early so she could study the Brahmas.
So she could come face-to-face with her fears.
Whoever was driving the stock truck handled it as if he’d been jockeying the unwieldy thing forever, expertly backing up until it was only a couple of feet from the corral where the bulls would be contained until their event. Shivering, she sensed the animals’ impatience at being penned up. If she had the brains of a gnat, she’d leave, but even with her heart pounding and her surgically repaired right leg aching, she held her ground.
If she didn’t, she might never win the biggest round of her life.
Mercury lights illuminated much of the grounds, but back here behind the outbuildings, deep shadows provided the perfect opportunity for her nightmares to breed. And, boy, were they, making her sweat.
Then the driver opened the door and jumped down from the high cab, and she couldn’t breathe.
Cougar Lighthorse.
A sharp pain turned her attention to her right palm. She’d been gripping the railing so tight she’d forced a sliver into her flesh. Yanking it out with her teeth briefly distracted her from the reality of Cougar’s presence. By the time she’d turned her attention back to him, the tall, solid Native American and whoever had been in the passenger’s seat had moved to the rear stock door.
Wiping her sweating hands on her well-worn jeans, she hurried around to the back of the corral. Her riding boots thudded dully on the packed earth, echoing her heartbeat. Given his need to concentrate on what he was about to do, she doubted Cougar was paying attention to anything else. Good. This way she had more time to come to grips, to comprehend, to resign herself. And, if truth be known, to ogle.
She was asking herself if two men on foot really could unload who knows how many 2,000-pound bulls when several mounted cowboys appeared. They spoke briefly with Cougar, but the bulls’ continual bellowing made it impossible for her to hear anything.
One of the men on horseback opened the corral gate. A minute later, the rear door to the stock truck swung open. Heart in her throat, she frantically looked around. If one of those monsters broke loose, where could she run? The barn? Could she reach it in time?
Stop it! Damn it, get over it!
To her surprise, although the bulls charged down the ramp and into their temporary home, they almost immediately calmed down. Of course, finding hay and water waiting for them had a great deal to do with their reaction. In less than five minutes, a dozen Brahmas had been secured in the sturdy enclosure. It was so dark in there, she barely glimpsed their massive forms. Morning was soon enough for that stroke-threatening task.
Male voices tore her attention from the bulls. Cougar and the others had gathered near the truck’s cab. Occasional laughter told her the conversation was less than serious. Although thoughts of being surrounded by so much testosterone intimidated her, she wanted to laugh with them, to absorb their strength and competence, to thank Cougar for holding her tight and strong and safe during that memorable day a year ago when pain and panic had chewed at her sanity.
Heat touched her nerve endings. Disconcerted, she closed her hand around her throat. If a bull— No! What she felt spoke of something far different from danger, at least the kind she’d experienced thanks to one of those beasts. This was a hell of a lot more carnal. If she didn’t—
Cougar had left the others and was walking toward her.
Her legs
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