Texas Rebels: Phoenix. Linda Warren

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      His mind kept rolling with the miles, and he seemed to have a need to look back over his life and the rodeo. It had been one endless party, and he felt the weight of that for the first time. How could he have created a life and not know anything about it? That was unacceptable.

      “Why do you think we need the excitement and attention of the rodeo?”

      “Go back to sleep, Phoenix. You’re giving me a headache.”

      “I’m serious. I think we crave the attention we got from our dad, and we get that from the rodeo and the girls.”

      “Don’t bring Dad into this. You’re agonizing over this kid and he might not even be yours. Just go to sleep and don’t think about it until you get the call.”

      That was easy for Pax to say. He hadn’t seen the face of the little boy or heard how he was crying for his great-grandma. For his own sanity, Phoenix leaned back and tried to sleep. It didn’t work. In his defense, he worked as hard as he played. It took a lot of training and skill to stay on an ornery bull for eight seconds. This past year they had put in a lot of effort to accomplish their goals, including the ultimate prize—competing, and winning, at the National Finals Rodeo. Phoenix had won the gold buckle in bull riding last year, and he was hoping to repeat. Paxton was close on his heels. If he had to lose, he’d want to lose to his brother.

      In Wichita Falls, they switched drivers, and Phoenix drove all the way to Oklahoma. They arrived at the rodeo grounds in the late afternoon. The rodeo was tonight, and trucks and trailers were parked everywhere. The travel trailer was much better than sleeping in the truck, which they’d done for a lot of years before they’d started to make money.

      Phoenix pulled up behind a truck and trailer with stripes down the side.

      “Would you look at that?”

      Paxton sat up and straightened his hat. “That’s a fancy outfit.”

      “I’m not talking about that. It’s parked in two spots. That’s not the cowboy way. We respect each other, and that person just hogged a parking spot.”

      “Park somewhere else. We have to check in.”

      Maybe it was his bad mood, but Phoenix decided he wasn’t parking somewhere else. He was going to teach this person a lesson in manners. He pulled in as close as he could to the other rig.

      “What are you doing? We’re too close.”

      “My thought exactly. Maybe he can crawl out the window, because he’s not opening the driver’s side door.”

      It didn’t take them long to find out the driver was not a he but a she. She climbed out the passenger door and stormed over to them. Phoenix got out and met her and was completely taken aback by the beauty of a woman he’d seen many times, but never this close up.

      She was slim, in tight-fitting denim, boots and a white tank top tucked into her jeans...basically the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. A leather belt with a gold belt buckle she had won barrel racing circled her tiny waist. A Stetson crowned her head, and long, coppery hair hung down her back. Her eyes were the coldest blue he’d ever seen, similar to the sky when the ground was frozen on a winter’s day. A chill slid up his spine.

      “What do you think you’re doing? Move your truck. It’s too close to mine.”

      “You’re taking up two spaces. That’s not the cowboy way.”

      She placed her hands on her waist, stretching the tank top across full breasts. Any other time Phoenix would have enjoyed the view, but he was still in anger mode. “Excuse me?”

      “We look out for each other, and taking up more space than you need is not good or respectful.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding.”

      “I’m not. If you want to get into your truck, you’ll have to move it over.”

      “You...you...you despicable, conniving, egotistical...”

      A smile touched his face for the first time today. This was so out of character for him. He was usually easygoing and fun to be around. He held up a hand. “I get the picture. You still have to move your truck and horse trailer. It promotes good relationships within the cowboy community.”

      “You may have won this round, Mr....”

      He held out his hand. “Phoenix Rebel.”

      She glanced at his hand and then at his face, her blue eyes now so cold he was tempted to take a step backward. “I know who you are, and I would never touch you. You Rebels are all alike, greedy, selfish and without respect for others.” After saying that, she stormed back to her truck and climbed through the passenger door. In seconds she had it backed up and reparked.

      Phoenix crawled back into his truck, and Paxton stared at him with a lifted eyebrow.

      “Have you lost your mind? Everybody parks wherever they want. All of a sudden we have rules? No one told me.”

      “Shut up.”

      “You do know who she is?”

      Phoenix rubbed his hand across the steering wheel. “Yes. Rosemary McCray.”

      “Rosemary McCray Wilcott,” Paxton corrected him. “She’s divorced, I heard.”

      “What else do you know about her?”

      Paxton turned to face him. “Let me refresh your memory. Ezra McCray tried to kill you and Jude for jumping his fences. Jude has a bullet scar on his forehead to prove it. Our father, John Rebel, shot and killed Ezra, which escalated the Rebel/McCray feud to high alert. Rosemary is a McCray, and the off-limits sign is flashing right above her head. Don’t you see it?”

      “What else?” Phoenix asked again, as if Pax hadn’t spoken.

      Paxton sighed. “Phoenix.”

      “What else?”

      “Her horse’s name is Golden Lady, and the cowboys call Ms. Wilcott Frosty Lady because she’s shot down everyone who’s tried to date her.”

      “I know that. What else?”

      “Not much. Her friends call her Rosie, but she isn’t very friendly and she stays to herself, which you should do, too. Do you hear me?”

      Phoenix couldn’t get that look in her eyes out of his mind. “She must be younger than me, because I don’t remember her in school.”

      “Yeah. About four years, I think.” Paxton nailed him with a dark stare. “Why are you curious?”

      “I don’t know. There’s just something about her. She seems so sad.”

      “Is that why you laid into her like a crazy fool?”

      “I didn’t know it was her. I thought it was a guy.”

      “Oh, that makes sense. Someone who could punch your lights СКАЧАТЬ