Her Cowboy Lawman. Pamela Britton

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      He turned to her, although that meant facing her again and being reminded of how young she was. “It teaches them how to center themselves on an animal’s back,” he explained. “Like a pendulum or a teeter-totter. The rider stays straight up and down while the horse—and later a steer or bull—rocks beneath them. Once a rider learns how to stay centered, the rest is easy.”

      Jax was nodding. “Makes sense.”

      “I don’t have to wear those riding tights, do I?”

      “Kyle, really.” Lauren pursed her lips and shook her head. “I haven’t agreed for you to take lessons with Sheriff Connelly. I’m not even sure what he charges.”

      “I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t worry about money,” her brother said.

      “And I’ve told you I didn’t move out here to accept your charity. It’s bad enough I’m living in your housekeeper’s quarters.”

      “I built that for you.”

      “Yeah, for when I visited. Not permanently.”

      “So what if you live there now?”

      “I refuse to live with my brother.”

      Lauren glanced in Bren’s direction, clearly embarrassed by their outburst. “Sorry,” she said. “You don’t need to hear our dirty laundry.”

      Kyle stood up. “It’s not dirty laundry. It’s true. Ever since Dad died, Uncle Jax has wanted us to live with him, but you wouldn’t let us.”

      “Kyle!”

      “I have eyes and ears, Mom. I see how hard you’re struggling to finish school and take care of me and everything. But it doesn’t have to be like that. I want to live with Uncle Jax. You’re the one that’s making this hard.”

      He turned and ran off. Lauren tried to grab his hand. She missed.

      “I’ll go after him,” Jax said, standing, but he had an admonishing look on his face, too. “You should listen to your son, Lauren.”

      They both watched them leave, and Bren could tell Lauren wished she could slip through the slats in the grandstand.

      “Sorry,” she muttered.

      “Don’t apologize. I understand.”

      She met his gaze and her eyes asked the question Do you? and he found himself wondering why a pretty little thing like her had so much sadness in her eyes. He looked away from her, troubled by how easily her sorrow tugged at his heart. The grandstands were nearly empty now, just the two of them sitting there. They both watched as Jax caught up with his nephew, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. He still wore his rodeo number and it flapped in a sudden breeze as he came to a stop. He didn’t know what Jax said to his nephew, but the boy’s shoulders slumped. He reached for his uncle’s hand and together they walked out of the grandstands together.

      “A year ago I would never have thought my brother would warm up to my son like that.”

      He glanced back at her, the same breeze kicking her brown hair across her face, Bren admitting once again how pretty she was. “What do you mean?”

      She peeked down at her nails. “There was a time when the military was his whole life. And after that, when his business was all that mattered to him.”

      “Darkhorse Tactical Solutions. DTS. I know.”

      She smiled slightly. “Everyone knows everything about everyone in this town.”

      He smiled, too. “I’m the local lawman. I make it my business to know who’s moved in and out.”

      But she’d tuned him out, he could tell. She stared after her son with such a keen sense of longing it made his heart tighten in pity all over again.

      “He begged me to move here.” She looked over at him. “We came here for a visit last year—before the house was finished—and it was all I could do to drag Kyle back to the Bay Area. He kept going on and on about his uncle Jax and his big ranch and how we could move to Via Del Caballo.”

      “So you did.”

      “We did, and to be honest, it’s a lot easier to make ends meet when you live in a small town, and it helps that my brother’s offered us free room and board.” She shifted, placing her elbows on her knees, resting her head in her palms. She looked so young then. Years ago she would have been exactly his type. No fake hair. Very little makeup. Easy smile. He’d been drawn to her the moment he’d spotted her standing there by the chutes.

      “But I can’t stay there forever.” She straightened again. “The whole point of my going back to school was so that I could finish my degree and find a good job.”

      “What do you do?”

      “Nursing.” Her smile turned bashful. “I’ve always felt compelled to help others. Turns out it’s a family trait.”

      “You could work for a local nursing home.”

      She shook her head. “No. I need to make enough money to support me and my kid. That’s the whole point. I want a good life for him, the best. That’s only going to happen at a big hospital, which is why I’m going for a bachelor of science in nursing”

      “So this is just temporary?”

      She let her feet slide back to the ground. “Before the year’s out, I’ll have graduated and found a new job, and I don’t think Kyle likes the idea.”

      He didn’t blame the kid. He hated the big cities. It was why he’d settled back down here once his military career had ended.

      “So let him enjoy himself while he’s around,” he said. “Let him take some riding lessons and maybe get on a few more steers.”

      Her eyes became serious. “I’ve seen what happens to bull riders. I’ve been an intern in an ER.”

      “All the more reason to make sure he learns how to ride correctly. He could have been injured today coming off that close to the chutes. He needs to learn how to fall in addition to how to ride.”

      Her brows lifted and he could tell she understood his point, but then she glanced toward where her son and Jax had disappeared It was almost as if he could sense the thoughts going on in her head, an inner battle of some sort. She must have arrived at a decision because she straightened suddenly, nodded, turned back to him. “So will you teach him?”

      Would he?

      Despite what he’d said earlier, he hadn’t planned on taking Kyle on as a student. His focus was high school rodeo. But he wasn’t proof against the imploring look on her face.

      “I could maybe help him out a little bit.”

      She reached for his hand. Bren glanced down, noting how refined her hands were against his own, how they were so white and his were dark. Her skin was soft and smooth. His was worn and calloused. СКАЧАТЬ