The Bull Rider Meets His Match. Jeannie Watt

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       Chapter Two

      Lex tried not to worry about Danielle on the drive home, but the Owen Farm was halfway between her place and Danielle’s, so it was hard not to worry when she drove by and caught sight of Grady’s truck parked behind the wind-damaged barn. He’d been driving that same truck since high school—not that he’d been home to drive it even once during the past two years. It was as if after Danielle had given him his walking orders, he’d given up on Gavin, Montana, and the people there.

      She pulled into her long driveway, smiled as the horses, knowing that they were about to be fed, cantered across the pasture. She loved her ranch, hated that she was now on it alone. But it wasn’t being alone that bothered her—it was the fact that her father was never coming back that ruined her. It’d been just her and her dad for so long that it was still hard to accept that he wasn’t there.

      During the school year, when he’d been on the bull-riding circuit fighting bulls, doing his best to keep a half-ton animal from stomping the cowboy that had just ridden him, she’d often stayed with Danielle’s family. After Lex hit high school, she became the farm-sitter during the school year. When summer came, she’d traveled with her dad. By necessity, the father-daughter trips had become fewer and farther between after she’d gotten her first real job, but as luck would have it, she had been there for the final trip. The one when he’d died in the arena—not from a bull injury, but from a heart attack after saving a guy who’d been hung up in the rigging and beaten like a rag doll as the bull attempted to knock him free.

      Even now, years later, the memory made her tear up—especially if it came at a time when she was worried about something else, such as, say, a close friend who was too nice for her own good. Lex blinked hard a few times before parking her truck next to her dad’s. She had two precious reminders of her father on the ranch that she refused to get rid of—his truck and his rank old horse, Snuff.

      Three dogs bounded out from behind the house when she got out of the truck, two border collies and a rambunctious dusty brown terrier that’d shown up on the ranch and refused to leave. A small black-and-white cat trotted behind the dogs. Felicity was another orphan, found abandoned at the county dump before her eyes were open.

      “Hey, gang,” Lex said as she closed the truck door. The dogs professed great joy at her return, while Felicity stood back, waiting for Lex to scoop her up on her way into the house. Once there, she shed her town clothes and climbed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a sweatshirt. She popped a John Deere ball cap on her head, grabbed her least offensive pair of gloves out of the basket by the door and headed back out the door to feed.

      Somehow she had collected way too many animals after her father died, but she didn’t have the heart to let any of them go. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford to feed them. Her father had left her the ranch in excellent shape financially and he’d had life insurance, which she’d invested. Lex was pretty much set for life, as long as she managed the property in a sensible manner, and since she was all about sensible, that wasn’t a problem. She started across the gravel drive leading to the barn and was met halfway by two Mediterranean donkeys, which brayed at her, and a pygmy goat that bumped the back of her legs as she walked.

      Okay, maybe she wasn’t totally sensible, but everyone had their foibles.

      Followed by her entourage, Lex tossed hay, dumped grain, checked water troughs. The donkeys and goat abandoned her once they had their rations, but Felicity and the dogs—Pepper, Ginger and little brown Dave the Terror—stayed close to her throughout the daily routine. Once she got back to the house, she held the door open. The dogs raced in and Felicity turned and walked across the porch to a spot in the sun.

      Lex understood. An independent woman could only take so much social interaction before welcoming time to herself. She was the same way, although lately the house seemed a little too lonely. It was the anniversary, she told herself as she changed back out of her feeding clothes and pulled a loose cotton dress over her head. Two years since she’d watched her father collapse onto the dirt of the arena, clutching his chest.

      Last year she’d told herself that the pain would ease by the time the next anniversary rolled around, and it had, but not as much as she’d hoped. It hurt to be alone and it hurt to know she’d never again hear her father’s boots crossing the front porch as he returned from a trip.

      In that regard, alone sucked.

      * * *

      GRADY WAS JUST putting the finishing touches on dinner when a car pulled into the drive. It wasn’t until it parked in front of the house instead of near the barn that he realized it wasn’t Annie and her girls returning from the big shopping trip in Bozeman. He didn’t recognize the car, but he definitely recognized the blond getting out of it. Danielle. Tall, cool, beautiful, just as he remembered her.

      He pulled the dish towel off his shoulder and dropped it on the kitchen table on his way to the door, glad once again that his sister and nieces were late getting home.

      Danielle smiled up at him as he opened the door, but it wasn’t the bright open smile he was used to. No. There was a definite touch of wariness in her expression, amplified by the taut way she held her body. Granted, two years had passed since he’d last seen her, but he was surprised at how unfamiliar she seemed, while his encounter with Lex had been like old times. Bad old times.

      “Something smells good,” she said instead of hello.

      “My famous pot roast.” He stepped back, silently inviting her into Annie’s СКАЧАТЬ