Florentine's Hero Page 8

  “I agree.”

  “Then drop the subject of getting out of the contract. I’ll never change my mind,” she said.

  He propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. “Like you, I’ve worked hard my whole life. I took over the family’s horse ranch, expanded, and bought even more land when others were struggling with the economy. I gave a hundred and ten percent for years, and now I want to integrate my vision for Turner Grain. That doesn’t include promoting risky behavior in an unforgiving sport.” He leaned back. “If I support bull riders, I’m essentially telling not only my daughter, but every person who walks into one of my mills, that I condone that activity. I don’t want that kind of responsibility. The thing is, I bought Turner Grain knowing you came along with the package. You just got caught in the middle, and I’m sorry.”

  She stepped back. His confession shouldn’t have come as a shock, but it hurt. His pretty words didn’t mean squat if he couldn’t see her side and support her. He was her sponsor, for crying out loud. His role was to help her succeed, not encourage her to quit.

  He sat so still, she might have thought he’d disappeared into the cover of darkness and chirping crickets. “I didn’t come out here to make you feel uncomfortable or make you even madder at me. We’re both smart. I’m sure we can come up with an agreement that we’d both be happy with in the end.”

  “Three rides, Cole. Then you can forget you ever met me.” She hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her cutoffs. “You learned what you came out here for, so you might as well go back home now.”

  “I can’t. I made a deal with you. You reneged. Chantilly asked—”

  “She ordered.”

  “Okay, she ordered me to stick around and make sure you took it easy and healed, but I’m the one responsible for you and no matter what you think, I don’t want to see you hurt. Not at all. You’re a wonderful person, and I think you’d make a great motivational speaker.”

  “Except for the fact that I ride bulls for a living,” she said.

  “It’s…I have my reasons, Florentine.” Cole inhaled deeply.

  He rubbed his jaw. The slight rasp of his whiskers against his hand drew her away from the railing. For the first time, she felt sorry for him. Not because Chantilly probably made him feel like a loser by blackmailing him to take care of her. Her heart went out to the man who had a reason to care.

  She’d tried to ignore the little things Cole had done for her since the night at the hospital. But he’d saved her. Her injuries weren’t that bad, but emotionally, he’d stayed and made sure she survived. Even now, when he had the choice to leave, he tried to make her comfortable with the decision.

  “You’re worse than the rankest bull, and I’ve got my hand caught in the rope,” she whispered. “You can’t walk away from me.”

  “I know. It’s a damned difficult situation, and I fully take my responsibility in forcing you to deal with me,” he said. “I even respect your family and their hard stance on protecting their own. I’m the same way with Sarah, so I understand.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “You’re a single father. Believe it or not, I understand what you’re going through. My dad raised five of us.”

  “Hell, part of me takes the blame for you coming off the bull that day. I should’ve waited to talk with you.” Cole cleared his throat. “I’ve added to the stress of riding and recuperating from your injuries. I wish things could be different, for both our sakes…”

  “You can say it. You’re hoping I fail in the first round, and our contract is over.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard it all. People love to support me by attending the rodeo. They secretly hope I’ll win because the odds are stacked against me. But no one wants to slap their name beside mine. I know, because I was the one out there begging corporations to be my sponsor. Turner Grain was the only one willing to take the chance.”

  His nod went high, as if this news shocked him. “Then I bought the corporation and tried changing the rules.”

  “That pretty much sums it up.” She sneered. “I should be used to disappointments, and you’re a drop in the bucket to what I’ve fought for my whole life. I just thought this time would be different.”

  “It doesn’t mean I don’t want what’s best for you.”

  “What’s best for me is to ride my way into the PBR.”

  “What’s best is for you to stay alive.”

  “Oh, I’ll do my best.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not going to let this get me down. I will win. I don’t run away from what scares me. No, I tend to sink my spurs in and hang on for the full eight seconds.”

  Cole stood up and walked to the end of the porch. She shook her head. Walk off. That’s it. Try to tell me I don’t stand a chance. Just like everyone else says.

  She held her breath so she wouldn’t scream in frustration. She had bigger things to worry about and didn’t have time to cry over one person not believing in her ability to win. His opinion shouldn’t matter to her, and she refused to argue with him.

  “I’m sorry.” He spun around and came back to her. “You do realize I will do anything to get out of the contract?”

  She shrugged. “You can try, but know I’m not budging.”

  “You’re a strong woman. You’ve had a rough year with your dad passing on, and I imagine it was hard for you to leave your family after his funeral. I didn’t take that into consideration when we first met.” The echo of his steps grew closer. “I didn’t know your dad, but I can tell you, as a rancher, as a businessman, and as a father myself, that he would be proud of what you’ve accomplished. No matter if you win or lose.”

  She glanced away and blinked back the tears blurring her vision. “Thank you…for telling me. That does mean something.”

  Cole reached out and swiped his thumb along the width of her cheek. “Please, don’t cry. The last thing I want to do is make you sad.”

  “I ain’t cryin’.” She shivered from the gentleness of his touch.

  How this big cowboy managed to move and act with the tenderness of a man half his size fascinated her, yet it was the way she reacted to his presence that confused her. She wanted to smack him in the arm one minute, and the next, she’d rather slip her arms around his waist and disappear within his embrace.

  She hated, yet enjoyed the way he took care of her. He seemed to know what she needed before she did. It was the worst possible timing to let him distract her. He had her emotions all tangled up inside of her. Look what happened the last time she let him get in her head and drive her insane. She’d fallen off the bull.

  “Good night, Cole.” She slipped away without giving him a chance to say anything more. The screen door hit the frame with a firm thwap when she left him alone.

  Chapter Ten

  The view fascinated Cole, from the wild bluebonnets and almost cloudless sky to the Black Angus dotting the green countryside. The McDougal ranch was stunning. He leaned against the split-log fence in the backyard of the cabin, drinking a cup of coffee, alone since Chantilly took Sarah to the main house to bake. The vibrant colors of summer beckoned him to return to his own ranch.

  “So, what do you think about the McDougal spread?” Jack, Chantilly’s husband, leaned against the fence.

  Older than Cole expected, Jack impressed him with the size of the ranch he and Chantilly ran on their own. Jack’s nephew had stopped in last night when he arrived home from law school. Cole understood Jack’s pride in his family and respected his soft-spoken ways.

  “You’ve got a great setup. It’s an impressive herd of Angus.” Cole shifted and nodded toward Florentine’s brother-in-law, Sam. “Florentine’s commented that you run a sister herd. I’ll admit after seeing the benefits for the land, I might have to toss some Angus in the fields. Right now, I’m only running horses. They’re my sanity when I pull myself away from business.”

  “Stop by anytime.” Sam shook Cole’s hand. “Jack and I might have a way to throw you some con
tracts. Once the wedding is over, we can talk.”

  Jack punched Sam in the shoulder. “Hell, you’ll be so busy with the baby coming. I’ll have to sneak you away for a beer.”

  “Harsh, man.” Sam’s grin replaced the I’ll-kick-your-ass expression Cole had seen before.

  He couldn’t help smiling. He knew the excitement of having a new baby.

  “So, you know Florentine’s chances better than we do going into the final round. Is our sister-in-law going to win?” Jack tilted his head, casting a shadow over his eyes.

  Cole inhaled. He recognized a challenge when presented with one. The wrong answer would cut off any more talk of business between them. “She’s stubborn enough to win.”

  The men laughed. He smiled, glad he’d played the neutral card.

  He could deal with business transactions. It was the personal side of why he wanted out of the contract, yet learning more about Florentine unsettled him. More unsettling was his desire that she trust him and his motives, even though she had no reason to do so.

  He’d had enough of thrill seeking women to last him a lifetime. So had his daughter.

  Sometime between now and when Florentine went back to Wyoming, he had to figure out how to keep his business relationship with Florentine away from Sarah. He’d promised Sarah they could stay for the wedding and fireworks show, but he needed to protect her from getting any wild ideas. The thought of Sarah doing something as dangerous as bull riding left him weak-kneed and nauseous.

  A fast movement flashed out of the corner of his eye. He set his cup on the fence post and squinted, making out a horse. The person on the back of the animal came into focus. Damn, woman. Florentine rode across the field hell bent for leather in his direction.

  When he went to bed last night, he wondered what she’d do if he kissed her, but this morning, he questioned his sense. She represented everything he didn’t want in a woman. Headstrong, independent in the extreme, and dangerous. She risked her life without considering what it would do to her family if she were hurt.

  She didn’t slow the horse. Lean and strong, Florentine angled herself over the horse’s neck. Her hair billowed behind her in the wind, and the waving strands seemed to beckon him to follow. He sidestepped along the fence without taking his gaze off her until she whipped past him and headed for open fields, oblivious to him, her face a stiff mask of emotion.

  Fear squeezed his heart. He fisted his hands, afraid to blink. There was no control, only complete abandonment as she let the horse lead the way. No longer surrounded in a cloud of confidence or controlling every move, she appeared to carry a deep burden he recognized well. Pain.

  He leaned against the fence, breathing hard. One tumble and she’d end up right back in the hospital, throwing away her chance of ever getting back on another bull. He had to go to her before she hurt herself again.

  He ran toward the barn and found Jack by the tractor.

  “Hey, Jack. Would it be okay if I borrowed one of the horses for a bit?” he asked.

  Jack eyed him. “What for?”

  He held his arms out to the side. “That’s Florentine out there riding. Looked like she was upset.”

  “She’s fine. I talked to her myself about a half hour ago.” Jack stared him down.

  “Are you shittin’ me? You’re not upset that something could be wrong?” Cole realized Jack was serious and reined in his frustrations. “Has Chantilly talk to you about Florentine?”

  Jack tipped his hat back. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

  “No. I got it covered.” He glanced around the ranch yard. “I need to talk to Florentine.”

  Jack pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Chuck is all saddled up and staked behind the barn, or you can pick your mount out of the stables. Watch out for the cross fencing. It’s barbed wire.”

  Cole nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  “Be gentle with her. She tends to act prickly, but we’ve all learned that she’s not so tough when it comes to her family. I imagine it was hard coming home and being reminded that Stuart’s gone and things have changed around here.” Jack slapped Sam on the back. “Come on. You can help me unload the feed.”

  Cole found Chuck out back and hesitated beside him for a brief second before grabbing the horn of the saddle with his left hand and throwing his leg over. The horse reared and danced on its hind legs. Cole held tight to keep his seat until the horse accepted him on his back. He then clicked his tongue. He was probably going to arrive to a thunderstorm of attitude, but he couldn’t walk away and pretend he didn’t see Florentine going against the doctor’s orders.

  He’d promised himself he would keep his distance as much as possible while she visited with her family and took time to heal. Somehow, he had to figure out a way to extricate himself from the contract. Then they could both go their separate ways.

  But she was doing her damnedest to get herself killed.

  The pain etched in her face concerned him more than he’d like to admit. He’d recognized the desperation in her riding posture. He’d done the same thing when he tried to outrun his nightmares.

  Cole slowed the horse and continued at a trot. He scanned the green fields around him, but no sign of Florentine. At a loss for what direction she would’ve gone, he clicked his tongue and galloped toward the river.

  Five minutes later, he found her horse standing in the tall grass eating his fill. He kicked his heels against Chuck and headed in the right direction. In no time, he slid out of the saddle and dropped the reins, assuming Jack trained his horse to ground tie. “Whoa, fella.”

  He jogged through the grass toward the river. He swallowed, trying to draw moisture into his parched throat. He hoped there wasn’t a reason she wasn’t with the horse.

  A muffled cry came from farther ahead, and his chest constricted. He pushed through the thigh-high blades. “Florentine?”

  Cole zigzagged through the field, sending seedheads floating in the wind, frantically searching the ground. She never answered, yet the moaning continued. She was hurt, and he couldn’t make out where she’d fallen. Then he spotted a bit of white hidden in a patch of bluebonnets ten feet to the west. Oh, shit.

  Curled up on her side, Florentine’s body convulsed and her breaths were short and loud. He kneeled down and brushed the hair off her cheek. The way her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips parted in agony, he knew he’d only hurt her worse by touching her, but he had to find the injury.

  He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Florentine?” He looked her over for torn clothes, blood, bumps, or anything else that might signify an injury. He smoothed her hair back from her face. “Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Did you fall?”

  When she opened her eyes, it wasn’t physical pain he saw etched into her face. Instead, he saw absolute sorrow, and it knocked every thought from his mind.

  She shook her head, gasping with pent up sobs. He kneeled beside her. “Sh. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

  Seemingly unaware of him, she held herself tense as if her muscles were frozen into position. What was he supposed to do? When Sarah hurt herself, a few sweet words and a hug always stopped the tears. He had a feeling that wouldn’t touch Florentine’s pain.

  “Listen to me, darlin’.” He briskly rubbed her arm. “Concentrate on my voice. You’ve got to calm down and let me know if you’re hurt.”

  She shook her head. “N-no.”

  “Okay. Good.” He blew out his breath, not sure what would help her, but knowing he had to do something. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  A sudden tear disappeared into her hairline.

  Tilting his head to the side, he gazed at her face. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I-I never—” She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed. “—cry.”

  “Everybody cries.” He held her hand and rubbed her work-roughened knuckles with his thumb.

  As if having permission to feel sorry for herself, Florentine leaned on him and cried into his shirt. H
e murmured comforting words, giving her time to fall apart and heal from whatever was bothering her. His throat tightened, and he inhaled deeply. He wanted to say and do the right thing, but he felt inadequate.

  He was used to little girl tears. Those could be kissed away. Florentine’s tears wouldn’t cave, though. Her distress went much deeper than disappointment or scraped knees. Positive he couldn’t fix Florentine, he simply held her.

  Over time, her body relaxed a smidgeon, though she still held tight to his shirt. He traced her hand with his finger. “That’s it. You’re going to be fine.”

  He waited as the breeze dried her tears. She had a lot to stress over right now. The worry of putting on a tough mask for the PBRA and handling the season on her own couldn’t have been easy on her. Plus, she was still mourning her father. He laid his hand over hers. She was tiny compared to him, and fragile.

  He smoothed her hair back from her face. In many ways, she reminded him of Theresa. He’d tried to help her too, but she’d grown distant during their marriage. Florentine held herself back from everyone. She was hurting, and he wanted to help her, say something and do anything to prove she could rely on him for support. Business was business, but what she needed was a friend.

  “I don’t know what it is about the women I know…my daughter, too. Sometimes I think she enjoys making me worry. I’ve stayed up more nights than I can count, struggling over what she’s going to do next. For a bitty thing, she’s stubborn. I can almost bet your daddy had a tough time or two with you, too.” He paused. “Sarah’s done some doozies. I think the time she ran away will always be the scariest.”

  Florentine wiped her face and gathered her composure. “What happened?”

  Glad to see her responding, he nodded. “My older brother Pete and I were scheduled to meet the stock trailer in the western pasture to load up the horses we were shipping out. I told Sarah she had to stay with her grandpa at the house, but that girl’s more hardheaded than anyone I’ve ever come across. She went to her room to play and learned how to unlock her bedroom window.