The Bull Rider's Homecoming. Jeannie Watt

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СКАЧАТЬ hate being blindsided,” she finally said.

      “I get that and I’m sorry.”

      “Yeah. Okay...well, ride hard tomorrow.”

      “Day after.”

      Annie smiled a little. “The girls send hugs.”

      “Hugs back,” Grady said.

      Annie ended the call and settled back in her chair. What was done was done, so why was it bothering her? Because the guy had stopped by at Grady’s urging and she’d run him off the property. Not a very nice thing to do.

      She needed to explain. Make amends. And maybe get another look at the guy. He’d had kind of amazing hazel eyes, and while she may not be in the market for a guy, there was no reason she couldn’t look.

      * * *

      TRACE’S BIGGEST ADJUSTMENT after having the surgery to repair the torn ligaments in his shoulder had been adapting to downtime. Never in his life had he held still for so long. Even busted and cracked ribs hadn’t kept him from practicing. A good, tight wrap and he’d been ready to go, but the doctor had been quite clear that if Trace didn’t allow himself sufficient healing time with this injury, then he was looking at destroying the work the surgeon had done and perhaps putting himself out of competition forever.

      Not going to happen, which meant following orders.

      Which also meant champing at the bit as he marked time, watched bull-riding technique videos and exercised the parts of his body that he could. He was eating carefully—lots of protein, not much sugar or bread—trying to keep the weight off and the muscle intact as he worked his lower body. Legs were important and he wasn’t going to lose the strength in his.

      When Trace had agreed to watch Grady’s place, he’d figured he could spend the hours when he wasn’t concentrating on rehab puttering around the place, doing whatever he was capable of with a bum shoulder. Unfortunately, the ranch was in pristine condition and there were no handyman jobs to do. His only duties were to feed the animals twice a day, water Lex’s plants and mow the yard. If ever there was an incentive to heal up and get back on the road, this was it.

      Grady had called the night before to apologize for the mix-up with his sister. He’d neglected to tell her that Trace would be checking in, so naturally she’d been startled when he’d shown up at her door, acting as if she should be expecting his arrival. And it wasn’t as if he’d come at the best of times. The highlight of the call had been when Lex had taken over the phone and asked if Trace would mind exercising her horses. He had a feeling she knew just how much time he’d have on his hands, and the thought of riding off into the not-too-distant mountains appealed. He could ride bareback, work on his balance and leg strength.

      First thing Sunday morning Trace experienced the thrill of trying to mount a sixteen-hand mare bareback without jarring his left shoulder. It was doable...kind of. At least there was no one around to see him climb up onto a fence and ease himself onto the horse’s back, just like little kids had to do—although it wasn’t unlike mounting in the chute. Yeah. That was it. No shame there.

      After settling on the mare’s back and doing a few practice circles in the wide driveway to make certain that she and he were communicating properly, he started down the road toward the mountains. The dogs complained bitterly about being left behind, but he wasn’t going to risk taking Lex’s dogs out on the road, no matter how lightly traveled it appeared to be. Riding felt good—no, it felt great—after weeks of being cooped up, and after a good two hours exploring the foothills, he finally headed back, hungry and thirsty. He hadn’t expected to explore for so long, but there was no reason for him to hurry back to the lonely ranch.

      The ranch, however, wasn’t as lonely as he’d left it. He spotted a small white car parked in front of the house when he rode into the driveway and immediately recognized the little girls poking their fingers through the fence at the dogs, who were wiggling ecstatically. Grady’s sister and nieces had come to call. Annie was on the way back to her car from the front door when she shaded her eyes against the sun and spotted him.

      “Hey!” one of the girls yelled as he rode closer. “That’s my horse!”

      “Katie,” her mother warned, and although the girl’s mouth clamped shut, she didn’t look happy. Trace dismounted stiffly several yards away, sliding down the horse’s side carefully, so as not to jar his stiff shoulder too badly, then led the mare up to the car where the girls started petting her shoulder and neck.

      “Can I please have Daphne’s reins?” one of the girls asked. Trace looked at Grady’s sister. She gave a small nod and he handed the reins over.

      “We’ll get her a drink,” the other twin announced.

      Trace watched them lead the mare toward the trough then turned back to find Annie regarding him. Yesterday, with wet hair slicked back from her forehead, she’d been all serious blue eyes and unsmiling lips. Today the long brown hair spilling in waves around her shoulders softened the angles of her heart-shaped face and accentuated the fullness of her mouth, the soft blue of her eyes—but her expression was just as serious as it had been while dealing with a flood and a stranger at the door. Somehow those full lips of hers didn’t look right pressed into a flat line.

      “Look, I’m sorry for being short with you when you came by the house. I didn’t know—”

      “It’s all right.” The naturally husky notes of her voice strummed along his nerves in a pleasant sort of way.

      “I was rude.”

      “Understandable, given the circumstances.”

      Annie didn’t reply. She shifted her weight and looked past him to where her girls were watering the mare, presenting him with her delicate profile. Trace rarely had a problem filling in gaps in conversation, but as she brought her gaze back to his, he found himself at a loss. She was a small thing, serious, yet sexy in a girl next door sort of way...and being near her stirred something deep inside of him. Something he didn’t particularly want stirred.

      “I appreciate your understanding,” she said coolly.

      “Not a problem.”

      No problem at all, although he couldn’t help but wonder if being attracted to Grady Owen’s sister might introduce a complication or two into his life.

       Chapter Two

      Trace Delaney was tall for a bull rider. And since Annie was short, she had to look up at him. The guy had great cheekbones, a really nice mouth and, unlike her brother, no visible scars. Deep hazel eyes, more green than brown, studied her solemnly from beneath slightly frowning dark eyebrows, and she realized that she was staring. She pulled her gaze away and a few awkward beats of silence passed. Neither of them seemed able to come up with anything to say, but she refused to shift uncomfortably.

      “By the way,” she said, breaking the silence. “I’m Annie Owen. Those are my daughters. Kristen in red and Katie in blue.”

      “Cute kids.” At least he didn’t say they took after her, as many people did, because they didn’t. They looked like their blond-haired, green-eyed father who was long gone. Not that that bothered Annie anymore. She was grateful to be raising her girls alone.

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