Betting on Hope (10 page)

The positive of the whole miserable ordeal was that he’d also realized that in the near future he wanted a family: wife, kids, and a quiet life here on the ranch. One that didn’t include a spotlight or a starlet who craved a spotlight any way she could get it—even if it meant creating scenes in public in hopes of attracting tabloids and becoming fodder for their readers.

“I need to explain about Pops.” It was time to set the boundaries.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, I need to clarify a couple of things.” He glanced sternly at her. On this he wouldn’t budge. “I’ve agreed to do this, but my Pops is off limits. Whatever you write in that article you’re supposed to write, don’t put anything about my Pops in there.”

“I wouldn’t,” she said, sounding genuinely insulted. Maybe hurt. “I didn’t mention it in the clinic. Just the dog.”

“Thank you for not mentioning it. I didn’t mean to insult you, it’s just hard to deal with when someone you love is . . . going through it.”

“I can’t even imagine how it must feel.” She was looking at him and he found himself drinking her in for a moment. She just seemed so real. Angry at himself, he cranked his truck and backed out of the parking lot.

“His forgetfulness and confusion is taking over, and as bad as I don’t want to accept it, it really is Alzheimer’s,” he said after they got back on the road. “Me and my brothers can’t stop it. He does some strange things now and again. But”—he looked at Maggie, his heart aching—“he used to be the strongest man I knew. His mind was quick—sharp as they came—and to see him on a cutting horse was to watch genius in action.”

Just thinking about it wedged a lump in Tru’s throat. “Pops is—was the best of the best in his day.” Sometimes, the man Tru saw now was nothing like the man he’d always known. Always idolized. Always emulated.

But that didn’t change the fact that he loved him fiercely. He slowed at the entrance and after he’d turned onto the drive, he stopped before going through the gate.

He held her sympathetic gaze. “I don’t want him in the funny papers. I want him remembered for being the man he worked all of his life to be. I don’t want your paper or the show getting laughs at his expense. If that insults you, I’m sorry, but I needed to make sure there is absolutely no misunderstanding.”

She studied him. He had never been more serious about anything in his life. “Promise me,” he added when she said nothing.

“I promise. I would never do something like that. I think it’s admirable of you to protect your grandfather.”

They stared at each other, the seconds ticking by.

He swallowed hard and the lump lodged in his throat eased, but the knot in his chest remained. “Good.” Pressing the gas, he took them past the main house. “I’ll take you to your cabin.”

He drove past the barn, the round pens, and his house. The well-maintained road wound through the pasture and down into the river area where the cabin sat in a tiny clearing surrounded by woods. Maggie silently fidgeted in the seat beside him as they neared the cabin. The woman did tend to have a nervous streak. But who could blame her in their situation?

“This is where you’ll be staying. It’s not too far away, and yet you’ll have your privacy when you want it.”

“It’s, um, fine.” There was a slight hesitation in her voice. “Does it have electricity?”

He laughed. “I’m not putting you in a cabin
that
rustic. Not only does it have electricity but water too. You won’t even have to use the river to bathe in.”

“Oh, a wise guy. Funny.”

He chuckled, feeling a little lighter than he had for days. “The only thing it doesn’t have is a washer and dryer. You’re welcome to use the one at my house or the one at Pops’s place.”

“I can do that.” She stared at the cabin, making no move to get out of the truck. Absently, she rubbed her arm and looked from the cabin to the woods. “I’m glad you had a place to put me.”

“So this is going to work for you?”

She glanced back at the woods and he could have sworn she looked worried about them.

“Yes. It’s great. I’ll have plenty of quiet time to work.”

“Yup.” He wouldn’t be bothering her, that was for sure.

Within a few minutes they’d gone back for her car and she’d followed him back to the cabin. Then he’d helped her unload her things and carry the stuff inside.

“Like I said, it’s rustic. But we like it. Pops built this a long time ago. It hasn’t been used in a while. So the cleaning lady came out and got it in shape for you.”

Standing near him in the doorway, she stopped to look at the paneled walls, the small stone fireplace, and the furniture made from tree limbs.

“I like the furniture.”

“Thanks, I made it.” He enjoyed working with his hands. Woodwork intrigued him.

She stared at him. “You made it? Wow. I have to admit that I’ve always been a little obsessed with twig furniture. And this is gorgeous. I love the way you sanded the limbs to show the grain, rather than leave the bark on like most that I’ve seen.”

Her eyes had turned the color of seafoam and could pull him in in a minute if he wasn’t wary.

He was.

He yanked himself upright, realizing he’d leaned toward her, letting her sweet scent of spring lure him in closer.

“I need to go to work,” he said, backing toward the door. “After you get settled in, you can find me at the arena and we can go over the logistics of this thing. We’re going to set up certain times for lessons. I have other responsibilities—priorities that have to be fulfilled. There will only be so many hours in a day that I can give up.”

“That is just fine with me. I’ll have plenty to do,” she bristled. “I’ll be up soon. It’ll be better to get this thing going as soon as possible. The sooner we start, the faster the time will go until we’re finished.”

“Yup.” He turned and strode to his truck as fast as his boots would go.

What was it about Maggie that had him wanting to go against every instinct he had? She was like a magnet—or an undertow.

Climbing into the truck, he slammed the door. It was time to put distance between him and trouble.

This could get complicated. The thought rang through him as he drove away . . . as fast as wheels would carry him.

7

They’d put Maggie in the woods.

She was a city girl. She didn’t do woods. After unpacking she went to meet with Tru about their schedule. She needed to get that settled and then she had to go grab some groceries in town before the small town closed up tight for the night. She’d also hoped to stop by Over the Rainbow and check on Jenna but there wasn’t enough time today. Soon though. She’d thought of the teen and her baby often and wondered how they were doing.

The trip to the barn ended up being fairly short. She parked then walked toward the barn, she scanned the area—looking out for a yard dog that might be waiting around to bite the newcomer. There were a handful of buildings and fenced pens.

A metal building with double doors sat several yards away and drew her attention. The doors were open and she could see what looked like packing boxes. On the wall beside the door was a large sign with the Four of Hearts brand and the word
Stirrups
beside it. She realized that in that instance the brand was there as the logo for the ranch’s handmade stirrup line and that must be where they were made. Her curiosity was stirred.

A cowboy came barreling around the corner of the stable as she approached. Maggie gasped and her hand went to her heart.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He had dark hair and a five o’clock shadow that emphasized a square jaw. His eyes were green like emeralds on high octane. “You’re Maggie, right?”

“Yes, and you must be one of Tru’s brothers.” The resemblance was too close, despite the difference in eye color.

He crossed his arms and gave a wolfish grin that caused a dimple to appear playfully. “Depends on who’s asking. These days around here, a guy can’t be too careful.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him, his grin was contagious. “I’m Maggie Hope and I’m looking for Tru.”

“I was afraid of that. All the pretty ones always are,” he said with a wink. “I’m Bo, by the way. Tru’s baby brother. How’s the hand? Really sorry about that—Solomon’s never bitten anyone before.”

“It’s fine. My hand will make it. He was scared.”

“He’s a stinker, and thank you for going above and beyond by climbing under the bed to pull him out. I hear you got stuck.”

She laughed. “Your brother rescued me.”

“Just call him the Lone Ranger. I’m just glad he was able to hoist that hulking bed he built off of you.”

He’d built that beautiful monster.
“He didn’t seem to have a problem.” She was suddenly very uncomfortable. She didn’t want people thinking she needed rescuing and that Tru was her knight. Bo was teasing, but what if others started thinking the same thing. That is what got her into this trouble in the first place.

“Well, that’s good to hear. But then, he took you to see Doc Hallaway and Clover. I’d hold that against him in a heartbeat.” Bo flashed his dimples and tipped his hat. “He’s in there. Good luck with the riding lesson.”

“Thanks,” she called as he headed toward one of the trucks, and she went to find Tru.

The afternoon sun was streaming in through the wide rolling doors at each end of the barn. A long wide alley cut down the middle of the building. She’d actually never been in a barn before.

It smelled. Not bad, but musty like grass and probably feed. She was a little startled that it didn’t stink. She could see the outline of Tru and a horse in the light. His silhouette was pure cowboy, bent with his back to the horse and the horse’s front leg propped on his thigh as he studied the horse’s hoof. A flock of pigeons erupted in the pit of her stomach—forget butterflies. She shooed them away.

“No attraction allowed. None,” she declared under her breath, daring herself to say otherwise even as her pulse ignored her and kicked into race mode.

He looked up as she neared him.

Oh, man
. His rugged good looks made a mockery of her declaration, but that only made her more wary. Tru Monahan could have his pick of adoring women.

“Is it hurt?” she asked, directing her thoughts to the horse. She halted several steps away from Tru, keeping him between her and the horse. The caramel-colored beauty reminded her of Tru’s eyes.

“He had a rock in his shoe. It’s out now.” He placed the horse’s hoof on the ground and straightened. “So, how much experience do you have with horses?”

She gave a shaky laugh. “None. That’s what I was trying to tell you in the interview. I have never been around a horse. This is my first time even inside a barn. I’ve always lived within the city limits of Houston, and we don’t generally have too many horses roaming around there.”

“Ahh, you have a point.”

“And I have made no secret that I’m just not the most coordinated person on the planet. God ran out of that long before he got to me,” she added.

His lip twitched. “That bad, huh?”

She put her hand on her hip. “You’ve seen me in action.”

“True. But again, the shoe choice makes a difference. You’ll learn to ride. I was serious when I said that.”

“Excuse my skepticism. It has more to do with me than you.”

“Are you always this hard on yourself? Look, it might not be pretty, but you’ll be able to ride a cutting horse before two months is up. Even if you are clumsy—your words, not mine.”

His words stung, even if he was repeating her.

She carefully stilled her expression, not wanting to show what she was feeling.

“But I’m supposed to
compete
.”

His forehead crinkled beneath his hat as he considered her. “Who said competing was all about winning? I never said you’d win. But I never said you wouldn’t, either. So, relax, take a breath, and stop beating yourself up before you’ve even touched your horse.”

She could not look away from the mixture of chastisement, challenge, and encouragement in his expression. How did he do that?

The corner of his mouth slowly lifted and he nodded at the horse standing quietly beside him. “Are you ready to meet your horse?” He lifted one of his tanned hands and placed it on the horse’s neck.

Maggie noticed the horse didn’t flinch, yank its head, or anything. It just stood there. “What’s this one’s name?”

“This is Stardust. He’s a great horse and he’ll take good care of you over the coming weeks.”

“Oh, is . . .” she paused. “He’s the one I’ll be riding? I thought maybe you’d have a little short one somewhere.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. Stardust really isn’t all that big. He’s not as quick as some, so I feel like he’ll be a better ride for you than Crimson over there.”

He nodded toward the horse she hadn’t noticed standing by the fence out in the arena. She tried not to hold her bruises against the horse.

“Crimson is high strung, but he’s quick as lightning, greasy on his feet. Stardust is an eleven-year-old gelding who has won over twenty-thousand in the nonpro, nonprofessional, division. He’ll take care of you if you listen to me and never take your eyes off the calf.”

“I assume that keeping my eyes on the calf must somehow keep me stuck to the saddle as the horse does its fancy footwork.”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, something like that. Come closer. He won’t bite, I promise,” he added, and when Maggie remained rooted to the spot, he reached out and took her arm.

The touch of his long fingers wrapped around her arm set alarms ringing. Sighing and stamping down her intimidation, she let him tug her over to stand beside Stardust.

She felt dwarfed.

“Just touch him, he won’t mind.”

Tru’s voice softened as he bent slightly and spoke to her. She glanced at him, catching the glint of sunlight in his eyes. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Come on, you can do it.”

She yanked her gaze from Tru’s to the safety of the horse’s deep chocolate eyes.

The horse was studying her.

Maggie was so flustered by Tru that she lifted her hand and touched Stardust’s nose without any more hesitation. It felt surprisingly velvety and when she touched it, he crinkled it up slightly and dipped his head forward as if asking her to continue. She touched the soft hair between his eyes and then gently rubbed the swath of mane hanging from between his ears.