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Authors: Patricia Thayer

Count on a Cowboy (16 page)

BOOK: Count on a Cowboy
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Trent turned the attention to Brooke. “You didn’t know, but Brooke has just received her degree in hotel management. She has some suggestions for the hunting lodge. Ideas on who to advertise to and what to add to our website.”

Brooke could see Rory’s anger, but he managed to control it and said, “I don’t think Brooke needs to concern herself with our website. After all, she’ll be returning to Las Vegas in a few days.”

A sudden ache squeezed her heart. Rory Quinn wanted her gone. Even though he didn’t know who she really was, it still hurt.

Before Trent could defend her yet again, she touched his arm. “No, Trent. Mr. Quinn is right, he doesn’t need my input. This is his project, too.” She stood. “Thank you both for dinner.” She worked hard to smile at Laurel. “It was great meeting you, Laurel, but I think it’s best I leave.” She glanced at Trent. “Trent, you stay, please. I’m not feeling like company.”

She stood and walked out of the room. If anything, her mother had taught her how to make an exit. Once outside in the fresh air, she felt her resolve shatter. She hated that Coralee had sent her to this place, and for what? To take the blame for something that happened all those years ago. She had no part in it.

She started down the driveway, but stopped on hearing her name called. She turned and saw Laurel coming after her.

“Hey, I don’t blame you for leaving,” her sister said. “I’ve never seen my parents act like that, and Trent is letting Dad know that he didn’t like what happened. But please, Brooke, don’t leave the ranch. I know you have to get back, but I’m only asking for a few days. I want to get to know you. We’re sisters. And I’m hoping not just because you want me to meet Coralee, but because you want us to have a relationship, too.”

Brooke was touched. “I would like that very much.”

Laurel beamed. “How about we start with a slumber party? Your cabin, say in an hour?”

Brooke’s heart was about ready to burst. “Can you get your hands on some popcorn? I’m suddenly hungry.”

* * *

A
ROUND TEN O’CLOCK
, Trent was at his house, nursing his second beer since he’d left Brooke in Laurel’s care at the cabin. And he’d been left out cold and alone.

Any way you looked at it, tonight’s dinner had been a disaster. No way could he talk Rory and Diane into accepting Brooke. Question was how far would the couple go in persuading Laurel not to see Coralee? So where did that leave Brooke? Back in Las Vegas, and he’d be here. Alone. In this house.

He took a long pull on his beer. Why did it matter? He’d been alone since he was thirteen when Chris died. Twenty years. He closed his eyes and his chest squeezed so tight he had trouble drawing his next breath. He still missed his little brother. He missed the happy family that used to live in this house, too.

For years, he’d fought wars and terrorists all over the world, seen comrades die, even in his arms. But when he’d come home, he was brought to his knees seeing his young brother’s grave. Nothing he’d done helped erase the guilt he’d felt for leaving Chris behind all those years ago.

Suddenly his phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket and saw Brooke’s name. “Brooke?”

“No, silly, it’s Laurel.” She giggled. “You hunk a hunk of burning love.”

Someone had been drinking. “Laurel? What are you two doing?”

“I’m getting to know my little sister. Thank you for keeping her here so I could meet her.” She giggled again. “Can you believe it, I have a sister.”

“Yeah, I can believe it.” He smiled. “Where’s Brooke?”

“She’s in the bathroom. But we’ve been comparing notes about the men in our lives. My guy, that SOB, I really ragged on, but you, soldier boy, are one of the good guys. And guess what, I think Brooke really likes you, too. Oh, God, did that just sound like high school?”

Before Trent could answer, he heard another voice, then Brooke came on the phone. “Trent, I can’t believe Laurel called you.”

“Better me than someone else. Are you two okay?”

There was a long pause, then Brooke said, “We’ve had a few glasses of wine, but we’re fine.”

“Good.” He hesitated, not wanting to hang up. “I miss you.”

“I shouldn’t tell you, but I miss you, too,” she admitted.

The phone to his ear, he walked through the kitchen and turned on the light to the deck. “I keep thinking about last night. I’m looking out at the hot tub and can imagine us there, together. I can still hear your soft moans as I touched you, as I tasted your smooth skin.” His body stirred, but he kept on going. “Do you know how badly I want to make love to you?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. “That can’t happen, Trent. I’m leaving soon.”

“I know. It’s probably not wise for us to think past the roundup,” he agreed. “Of course, you could come back to visit, or I can come to Las Vegas.”

“I’ll have a new job, and not much time.”

He heard Laurel’s voice in the background and he wasn’t in the mood to hear any more excuses. “I should let you go. Good night, Brooke.”

He hung up and decided he needed to go to bed. If he could get through the next few days with Brooke, then send her home, maybe things might get back to normal. Yeah, right. He didn’t see that happening.

Chapter Thirteen

A day and a half later the roundup began at dawn. Trent, Mike and Ricky had arrived at the Bucking Q with their horses, and ready for the cattle drive to begin.

The morning started out cool and a little dry. The bawling cows and calves kicked up enough dust to have the hands riding drag wearing neckerchiefs. That would be Brooke and Laurel and Ricky. The kid had to be where the girls were. Trent and Mike rode flank and Bucking Q’s Chet and Larry took the point position. Of course, Rory was trail boss, and a few of their neighbors, Henry Clark and Jack Hendricks, filled in where they were needed. There would be more people when they got to the branding pens.

Trent turned toward the back of the herd on hearing Laurel’s excited voice.

“That’s it,” she called to Brooke from atop her cutting horse, Starr Gazer. “Go get ’em,” she encouraged her newfound sister as Brooke took off on Raven after a calf. He watched amazed at Brooke’s ability. She’d taken to riding as if she were born to it. And she enjoyed it, too.

Trent smiled with pride when she managed to corral the small animal and send him scurrying back to his mama.

Ricky and Chet cheered her on as she fell back into her position. He caught a blush over the top of the scarf that covered part of her face.

“She’s not half bad on a horse.”

Trent turned to find Rory beside him. “Yeah, and she’s only had a few days of experience.”

Rory nodded as he rode alongside Trent. “Laurel was working with her all day yesterday. I saw them in the corral.” They rode along with the slow-moving herd. “Have you heard any more news from your friend the PI?”

Trent had received a text, but he couldn’t call Cody until tonight. “Not yet.” He studied Rory. “What are you expecting to find? For Brooke to have a police record, or maybe she was wanted by the law?”

Rory glared. “I just want to know if she’s trying to play me like her mother did.”

Trent frowned. “Has Brooke asked you for anything?”

Rory kept quiet, staring ahead.

“I told you Coralee is in a care facility. She can’t hurt you or Laurel. From what I know about Brooke, she is who she says she is. A recent college graduate, and trying to make her mother’s—who’s dealing with Alzheimer’s—life a little better by granting her this wish.” Who was he trying to convince, Rory or himself?

“This isn’t the first time Coralee has disrupted our lives,” Rory began. “Twenty-eight years ago, out of the blue, I get a call from her, telling me I fathered a daughter. Then in the next breath, she offered me custody. The next day, Diane and I were on a plane to get Laurel before Coralee changed her mind.

“When Coralee showed up with four-month-old Laurel, she was frail and weak with an ignored asthma condition, but Coralee wouldn’t hand her over to me yet. It took several thousand dollars just to get my daughter. She said it was to pay for medical bills.”

“Why didn’t you go to court?”

Rory looked sad. “Truth was Laurel was so sickly, I was afraid something would happen to her before we could get her medical attention. So we paid.” His gaze went to his daughter riding next to Brooke. “I don’t regret a minute, or a dollar of the money it took to get her. We’ve had Laurel all these years.”

“Is that why you never told Laurel about her birth mother?”

Rory looked all of his sixty-one years. “There were other reasons, too. I hated the fact that I’d been unfaithful to Diane. I mean, we weren’t married at the time, and we had this big fight before I took off for the National Finals. After your dad and I won for team calf roping, Wade went back to the hotel, and I went to a bar to celebrate alone. Coralee Harper was at the piano singing...”

Rory paused and the only sounds were from the cattle bawling and men shouting out commands. “She gave me attention and I ate it up. Afterward, I felt sick. I went home to Diane, confessed everything. She forgave me and I asked her to marry me.

“We bought the Bucking Q and I thought life would be perfect for us.” He smiled. “Diane got pregnant right away, but then she lost the baby. Worse, there were complications that made it impossible for her to have any more children.”

“I’m sorry, Rory.”

Trent shifted in the saddle and guided his horse away from the herd, but his gaze stayed sharp on his job.

Rory continued. “So when Laurel was given to us, Diane didn’t bat an eye whether or not to keep her as her own child. They bonded from the beginning. When Coralee came around when Laurel was five years old, we paid her off again, but this time we had a lawyer draw up the papers to keep Coralee away permanently. That was the last money she got from us.”

Trent nodded, understanding his friend’s pain.

“Now, Laurel is grown, and Coralee is asking to see her. Why? You said it’s because she regrets giving her daughter away, but I can’t trust her, and until I know otherwise, that includes Brooke, too.”

* * *

A
FTER TWO HOURS
in the saddle Brooke was exhausted, but didn’t want to quit. She loved riding. There was something therapeutic about the gentle rocking with the horse’s easy rhythm. And getting to spend time with Laurel was a bonus.

She felt almost giddy.

And then there was Trent. She glanced across the herd to see him on Rango, working at the flank position. He looked at her and waved. She waved back, eyeing the cowboy’s expertise on horseback. The man did more than warm a girl’s heart; there were a few other places that got all warm and tingly.

Hearing her name called, Brooke came out of her daydream and saw a calf had taken off.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She dug her heels into Raven and the mare shot off after the tiny bovine. She nearly caught up to the bawling calf, but suddenly the animal fell when it got caught in some downed fencing in the underbrush.
Oh, no.
Not wanting her horse tangled in the wire, Brooke pulled sharply on the reins. Raven stopped immediately, but Brooke went flying in the air and hit the ground hard.

She groaned, feeling pain shoot along her spine and shoulders. Even her chest hurt. Unable to cry with the pain, she concentrated on trying to breathe, but nothing worked. Was she going to die?

Heart hammering, Trent raced up on Rango, jumped off and was at Brooke’s side in seconds. He tugged the bandanna down. “Brooke. Talk to me, babe.”

“Can’t,” she gasped for air. She opened her eyes, showing her panic.

“Breathe slowly. You got the wind knocked out of you.”

Removing his gloves, Trent moved his hands over Brooke’s limbs, checking for any broken bones. There weren’t any, thank God. Then he began to examine her skull, looking for any sign of blood. When he found none, he felt for bumps. None, again. Relief washed over him.

“How is she?” Ricky asked as he jumped off his horse along with Laurel just behind him.

“Hey, Brooke. You okay?” Laurel asked as she knelt down on the other side of her.

Brooke nodded. “Just terrific.”

Trent watched as Brooke’s breathing slowly improved. He exhaled a sigh of relief. “Better now?”

Brooke glanced around to see everyone crowding around her. “I just feel stupid. How’s the calf? Raven?”

She tried to get up, but Trent placed a hand on her to stop her. “The calf will survive, and Raven wasn’t hurt. You, on the other hand, might be.”

“Not my finest moment, but I didn’t hurt anything important.”

Damn, stubborn woman wouldn’t take help. “Okay, just sit up first, but if you’re dizzy you’re not getting back on the horse.”

Trent wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position.

Ricky handed her her cowboy hat. “Ah, she’s okay.” He winked at her and climbed back on his mount.

Brooke felt the heat on her face and it had nothing to do with the sun. She took Trent’s offered hand, and let him pull her up, then he placed her hat on her head.

“Good job chasing down the calf, but your dismount needs some work,” Laurel said with a chuckle.

Brooke couldn’t help laughing. “One thing’s for sure, Raven has good brakes.” She walked over to her horse. “Don’t ya, girl? You did good.” She rubbed the horse’s neck and got a loud whinny.

Brooke grabbed the reins, jammed her booted foot into the stirrup and swung back into the saddle. She wheeled Raven around in time to discover Rory headed her way.

Astride his big gray gelding, he came up beside her. His gaze moved over her. She felt a surge of happiness seeing his concern. “How do you feel?”

“Really, I’m fine.” She hesitated. “Are you going to take me off the roundup?”

If so, she’d have to go back to the cabin alone. Since she was leaving in a few days, this would be her only opportunity to be with...family.

Rory shifted in the saddle. “No, you weren’t being reckless. Good job handling your horse. Besides, most riders take falls.” He turned in the saddle and called over his shoulder. “Chet, you get some of the men out here tomorrow to clear away that old fence. I don’t want anyone else hurt.”

BOOK: Count on a Cowboy
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