She’d taken her foot off the accelerator, slowing down so she could observe. Trucks and trailers were parked in front.
Crud.
He had company. Oh, well, she thought. He wouldn’t have buzzed her through if he hadn’t wanted her to intrude.
She turned her attention to her surroundings. The two-story homestead seemed old, but she would bet at one point it’d been considered a mansion in these parts. It was painted white, and was perfectly square but for a small portion that jutted out on the right side in a hexagonal shape. There were windows all around it and the cutest little gingerbread roofline. Along the lower left side of the home sat an old-fashioned porch, the kind with blooming potted plants hanging between fancy scalloped braces. It wrapped around the side and front edges of the home.
Colt had parked his trailer next to the porch, which seemed dumb considering it probably blocked his view of the rolling foothills and nearby mountains. Natalie’s gaze moved to the barn to the right. Nothing fancy, just what appeared to be an old hayloft converted into a horse stable—she glimpsed stalls inside. By far the newest addition had to be the arena off behind the barn. State of the art by the looks of it, with a matching round pen outside. Both training areas had sand footing and high wooden rails that had been left natural in color so that they matched the big barn.
When she pulled up next to one of the four trucks parked out front she couldn’t help but admire their shiny exteriors. Her own truck was at least twenty years old and looked the part.
Feminine giggles.
They were the first thing to greet her—that and the sound of a bluebird warbling off in the distance. She didn’t know why the laughter took her aback. She’d figured Colt wasn’t the type to spend time with female company, had assumed the horses she saw saddled inside the trailer belonged to men.
No, he just didn’t want to spend time with you.
Okay, fine. Back when she’d been her old self, she’d been a little miffed that he’d given her the cold shoulder at Zach and Mariah’s wedding. She wasn’t used to men doing that and, quite frankly, when she’d first met him she’d kicked herself for not agreeing to go on a date with him. He was a handsome cuss. Not that he’d asked, but Wes had offered to set them up at least a half-dozen times. She hadn’t wanted a thing to do with a cowboy back then. Not her type. And then she’d met him and been instantly struck by that tingling in the pit of her belly, the only thought in her mind: oh my.
She rounded the open doorway of the barn and drew up short. Women. Five of them. All good looking. All cowgirls judging by the tight-fitting jeans and T-shirts. All standing in the middle of the barn, a row of stalls to their left and what must have been three tons of hay piled high to their right. The women turned to stare at her as though she was a poppy seed stuck in someone’s teeth.
“Hey.” She hated sounding so uncertain of herself because standing just beyond them was Colt in a black button-up and pressed jeans. “Sorry to drop in on you like this.” She pointed over her shoulder. “But I was hoping we could talk.”
He didn’t seem angry that she’d tracked him down at his ranch. He didn’t seem anything at all, although it was hard to gauge the emotions in his eyes beneath his cowboy hat. He stood just inside the barn, in front of the first stall.
“Natalie, meet the Galloping Girlz. Trick riders. They’ll be performing with me out on the road.”
Trick riders. Ah. They had the look of performers. Pretty. Skinny. Self-confident. She estimated most of them to be younger than she was, although one of them, a brunette, seemed about her age. Inside the barn it was dark, the only light coming from the massive front entrance, but when that brunette narrowed her gaze, her lashes following the lowered sweep of her eyes, it wasn’t too dim for Natalie to spot the curiosity spilling from their blue depths.
“Samantha here is their leader.”
“Hi.” The woman charged toward Natalie and clasped her hand in her grip like a cowgirl wrangling a heifer. “Call me Sam.” She pointed a thumb in Colt’s direction. “Colt’s the only one allowed to call me Samantha.”
Natalie would have to be deaf not to hear the possessiveness in the woman’s voice. She had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, the strands around her head held back by a crystal-studded headband that caught the light and sparkled in a way that matched the rhinestones on the front of her shirt. The woman was pretty, for all that she seemed to have the wrong idea about Natalie and Colt.
“We were actually just talking about you,” Colt offered.
When Natalie caught Colt’s gaze she still couldn’t tell what ideas ran through his head. He didn’t seem happy to see her. Then again, he didn’t seem upset, either.
“Uh oh.” She shot Samantha a smile meant to project: Friendly! Nice! Not interested in Colt! “I hope that’s a good thing.”
“Sam’s been trying something new.” Natalie watched to see if Colt reciprocated Sam’s feelings, but the man was good at hiding his thoughts. “She wants to jump through a flaming hoop, but she’s having trouble.” Natalie couldn’t be certain, but she thought that might be amusement she saw in Colt’s eyes. “I told her she’d be lucky if she didn’t set herself on fire.”
“Colt.” Sam made a big show of punching him in the shoulder before turning back to Natalie. “Colt tells me you used to be some big, famous jumping person.”
Internationally famous. Ranked first in the world. Everyone had said 2016 would have been her year, the year she’d represent the United States in the games. And then the accident.
“I did okay.”
There were times when disappointment and sorrow came out of nowhere and smacked her in the face. This was one of those moments, though she tried to hide it. When she met Colt’s gaze, his amusement faded.
“We were hoping you could help.” He gave her a small smile, one meant to tell her without words that he understood.
She took a deep breath, got hold of her emotions, and pulled her shoulders back. “Well it’s a good thing I showed up here then, isn’t it?”
“So you’ll do it?” Sam asked.
“Of course.”
“Wait, wait.” Colt held up his hands. “I told Sam she had to give you something in return.”
Sam’s whole face lit up with excitement. “I’m going to teach you to trick ride.”
He thought she’d be thrilled. Working with the Galloping Girlz would be an excellent way for Natalie to build upper body strength, not to mention recover her center of gravity.
Natalie didn’t seem thrilled. She seemed terrified.
“Oh, wow.”
But the subtext of her words clearly indicated she’d rather jump out of an airplane—without a parachute.
“We can talk about it later.” He motioned to the Galloping Girlz. “I think Sam would appreciate some help with Roger today.
“I would. He keeps stopping and I don’t know why.”
“Why don’t you unload your horses?” Colt eyed the girls. “I can talk to Natalie about my idea alone.”
“Sure,” Sam said, corralling her teammates, but not before shooting Colt one last smile, a grin that slid off the edge of her face when her eyes fell on Natalie. Colt made a mental note to set the record straight with Sam even though he’d told her half a dozen times already—he wasn’t interested