Her Rodeo Hero. Pamela Britton

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      “No. Playboy took off with you. In some ways that can be worse.”

      She didn’t deny it, but he could tell she still didn’t want to try trick riding.

      “Look, when I was younger I started riding broncs. I don’t know if you know or not, but there’s no steering a bucking horse. Took me a while to get used to having no control. It’s going to take a while for you, too.”

      “But that’s just it.” She splayed her hands. “Bridleless reining is all about control.”

      He shook his head. “When it comes to horses, control is an illusion. They can always do what they want if they decide to. They’re bigger, faster and, in some cases, smarter than a lot of humans. But all that doesn’t matter because first you have to learn how to trust them or none of your goals will be possible.” He crossed his arms in front of him. “Riding with the Galloping Girlz will be the best thing for you.”

      “What will I be doing?”

      “That’s up to Sam. She’s the pro.”

      She didn’t want to do it. Not at all.

      “This is a deal breaker for me, Natalie. Either you let the girls help you out or I’m done.”

      He could see that she didn’t take kindly to his ultimatum, but he was doing it for her own good. Just like in the military, sometimes it was better for people if they weren’t given a choice. Tough love, so to speak.

      Those eyes of hers had gone from big and uncertain to narrowed and annoyed. His words seemed to serve as a challenge. “Fine.”

      “You’ll do it?”

      “It seems I have no choice.”

      Good for her. He had to squelch the unexpected surge of admiration he felt. “Are you sure?”

      “Of course I am.”

      He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can see the fear in your eyes. It makes me wonder if you’re ready. Maybe you should take some time off. Learn how to knit or something. When you’re ready to get back on a horse you’ll know.”

      “I’m not afraid to get back on a horse.”

       Tell it to the judge.

      But he didn’t say the words aloud. “Good,” he said instead. “Because I think you should start working with Sam today.”

      “Today?” Her lips went slack.

      “No time like the present.”

      He left her standing there because damned if he didn’t want to tell her everything would be okay. That he’d been in her shoes. That it would all work out. And even crazier, he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and reassure her with a hug.

       I must be going soft in my old age.

      * * *

      IT’LL BE ALL RIGHT. You’ll be okay. Colt won’t let you fall on your head.

       And die.

      “You really don’t need a helmet,” Sam said, the bay gelding she held standing by her side patiently. “I promise not to let you fall on your head and die.”

      The words so closely echoed Natalie’s thoughts that she almost let out a burst of laughter. Of course, it might sound a little hysterical right now, but at this point she really didn’t care.

      “Where I come from if you don’t wear a helmet, you’re considered insane.” She saw Sam’s eyes flash. “Not that I’m calling you insane, it’s just a mind-set kind of thing.”

      Sam glanced at Colt, and Natalie could perfectly interpret the look she gave him. It was one of shared amusement. Only Colt didn’t seem amused. He peered at them from his position alongside the rail of the arena. They stood in the sand, the other girls already on their horses and riding around. The first time she’d seen one of the pretty blondes stand on top of a saddle she’d felt physically nauseous.

      There was no way they’d ask her to do that. Not yet, at least.

      “Go on. Climb aboard.”

      It was at that moment that Natalie admitted to herself that Colt was right. She’d lost her nerve.

      “I’d still feel better if I had something on my head.” She pointed toward her hair. “I just had a traumatic brain injury.”

      Her chest felt tight. Anxiety. No denying it.

      Sam had begun to study her closely, perhaps a little too closely. Did she know how near Natalie was to panic? “Colt, don’t you have a helmet in the barn? I thought I saw one hanging there.”

      “I do.” Without another word he turned to go get it.

      It was a way to stall, the helmet issue, Natalie acknowledged inwardly. Well, not really. She truly didn’t want to ride without the proper safety equipment, but the temporary delay gave her time to gather the reins of her nerve and analyze why she felt the way she did. Yes, she’d fallen off. Ironically, she’d been critically injured but the horse she’d been riding had been just fine, so she wasn’t afraid of hurting another horse. Besides, she’d ridden Playboy recently and she hadn’t been half as afraid as she was now.

      “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

      When Natalie looked up, Sam’s eyes had lost their edge. She peered at her with something close to pity on her face. “We can do something else to get you back into shape, something that doesn’t involve a horse.”

      Was her fear that obvious?

      “No, no.” Damn it. She could do this. She would do this. She turned toward the gelding next to her. “At least your horse is low to the ground. I won’t have to look like a rock climber trying to scale Half Dome.”

      Humor. A defense mechanism. Before a big competition she’d always been the one to crack jokes. Laughter helped ground her. It reminded her that life shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Everyone was going to die. One should enjoy the moment.

      Just then one of the Galloping Girlz went by on her horse. The woman hung upside down off the side of her mount. Natalie gulped.

      “I’m not doing that.”

      Sam followed her gaze and smiled. “Not yet.”

       Not ever.

      “Here you go.”

      Natalie turned. Colt stood there with the helmet. An ugly white thing that resembled the top of a golf ball.

      “Thanks.”

      When she met his gaze, she tried unsuccessfully to shield her thoughts from him.

       You’ll be all right.

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