Page 10 of Rogue Cowboy (Montana’s Rodeo Cowboys #3)

“Y ou’re staring at my sister,” Rohan commented.

“You’re staring at me,” Cole answered, not surprised to find Rohan waiting at Riley’s trailer.

Yeah, they’d been friendly. Trusted each other on missions. But that didn’t mean Cole was going to go easy on Rohan. He should have been with his little sister in LA when a bunch of suits were set on turning her into something she wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Rohan didn’t bother to help Cole heft the saddle, saddle blanket or the grip accessories, but he was quick to take the keys, lock the trailer and pocket them.

“For real. I don’t buy the BS you told my dad and the rodeo committee. You met Riley once over six years ago—as a favor. She was a kid.”

Alone.

“Wasn’t BS.” Cole tempered his anger.

“Which part? You looking to try to buy us out or cut off our business with Wilder Dreams Ranch?”

Cole hadn’t thought of that. His paw-paw and cousin Elijah, who ran the ranch, didn’t operate underhanded, and he resented the insinuation. But he had to keep it cool for Riley’s sake. Things were heated enough.

“Jameson Ranch has a large stock-contracting business.” He wondered how much he should tell Rohan.

“My uncle’s retiring from being a surgeon.

Over the years he’s bought land in Montana and Wyoming.

He and my cousin, Elijah, who’s foreman and more, wanted me to check out the operations in the area. See the land.”

“So, you’re not here for Riley.”

Rohan’s relief would be insulting if Cole cared, but what the hell?

Cole walked back to the horse barn with long strides that Rohan matched.

They were going to have to have this conversation soon anyway.

He wasn’t going to stay a dirty secret, and Riley needed to face her past head-on and spit on it before she could truly reclaim her life.

“I’m definitely here for Riley.”

Rohan swore, pissing Cole off more.

“I detoured on my leave and met her in LA like you asked.” Cole crossed his arms and stared Rohan down, not interested in a pissing match. Riley was a woman. Rohan had no say over who Riley spent time with.

“You trusted me then.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

Deep breath. He didn’t have a sister to protect. Not anymore. Maybe he would have been a dick about Carli.

“We spent a long weekend together—me on the couch,” he added, judging by Rohan’s thundercloud expression that he needed to, but damn.

Rohan knew him—knew he wouldn’t take advantage of a girl on the cusp of becoming a woman.

“She was magic. But too young, and I’d just reupped for four.

I left her alone to pursue her dreams but kept in touch. ”

“So now you’re here to what…see if you got a shot?”

He had more than a shot. And for a moment, Cole wondered if he should come clean, but it was Riley’s story too, and his first loyalty was to her.

“You said courting,” he accused.

“I did.”

“Riley okay with that?”

It was a valid question. He didn’t have an answer either of them would like.

“We’ll see.”

That should have been it. Neither he nor Rohan had ever been chatty. They took orders, improvised when necessary, and got the job done.

“See you got an all-access pass,” Rohan said, noting Cole’s lanyard. “That doesn’t extend to Riley.”

“My family’s name and reputation, not mine. I don’t take anything I haven’t earned.” He paused, a hint of a smile ticked up at a memory. “Besides, she once informed me that it’s no longer the eighteen hundreds and women have their own power and choices.”

An answering amusement washed over Rohan’s face.

“Yeah. Dammit.” Rohan’s smile ghosted and the shadows in his eyes lightened. “Sounds like her.” The tension broke like the sun after a summer thunder shower. “How you been, Cole?”

“Still alive.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Heard you’re married. A daddy now.”

Rohan’s light shone bright. “Ginny. My high school sweetheart. She had a son, Lucas. He’s mine now, and we have a little girl. Lydia Lane Telford—Ginny’s maiden name.”

“Congrats.” Cole wondered if they were supposed to do a bro hug, but the saddle and other equipment made that too awkward.

Good thing because when Rohan learned the whole story, he was going to want to take another well-deserved swing at him, and this time, Cole would make sure Riley was not within striking distance.

“Damn,” Rohan said, ignoring the saddle. “Good to see you, my brother.” He stepped forward and pulled Cole in tight. Held. Released and then gripped his forearms.

“What, are we Klingons?”

“Some days feels like.” Rohan laughed. “Dad said you’d be in town at least a week and were meeting with the Wilders and Ballantynes to see their operations. We’re in partnership with Wilder Dreams. Come to the house for dinner one night before you take off back to the Lone Star State.”

Rohan said that firmly, as if he wanted to ensure leaving was on Cole’s agenda. But no one dictated to him and Cole had no intention of heading south without Riley.

“Damn, I asked you to check on her, not get bewitched by her.”

Cole didn’t answer. It wasn’t as if he’d intended to do anything but take Rohan’s sister to dinner if she wanted.

“Sorry, Cole. I did trust you. I do. But something happened to Riley in LA. She came back early. Changed. I wasn’t home for another three years, but she’s different.

More careful. Quieter. Homebody. She pretends to be whole and happy, and we pretend to believe her.

But she doesn’t even do open mics anymore.

My mom says she doesn’t even hear her play her guitar.

It’s like…” Rohan held out his hands helplessly then jammed them back in his pockets.

“Your mom and dad didn’t push? Make her talk?”

“They’re not the military, Cole. Can’t interrogate my sister. She deserves privacy. Riley would have been an excellent spy. No one’s a vault like Riley.”

Maybe so. But vaults were designed to open. Cole just needed the combination.

*

Riley limbered up alongside Arlo and Petal, buoyed by their enthusiasm.

She’d primarily been a barrel racer and had wondered if Petal would be interested in that sport when Riley’s brother Witt and his wife Miranda had adopted her, but Petal had loved gymnastics, so trick riding had seemed like a fun combination to bring together Petal’s skills and her life at the ranch.

Riley had always been a horse girl and yet the music had surged and rolled out of her as lush and beautiful as the Yellowstone River—undeniable.

Once. But now everything was so quiet inside of her.

No melodies playfully nudged her in her dreams, waking her up so that she’d pull out her guitar anytime she heard something.

It was like the music had died and now she only hummed other artists’ songs.

She only had horses now. And her family. To save her sanity and do something useful at the ranch, she’d joined her mother’s business breeding and training horses for cutting and barrel racing. Horses wouldn’t judge her for her arrogance and stupidity in LA.

“Are we going to ride Cinnamon and Spice?” the girls chorused.

“In the parade on Saturday. This morning, I thought you’d take time reviewing a few skills on Cinnamon. Boone is bringing Spice and his horse Shadow this afternoon, because Spice doesn’t like the big trailer.”

“She’s a diva,” Petal noted. “Needs the personal touch.”

“Spicy,” Arlo added.

Riley tried to think back to her own middle school years.

Had she had a friendship as tight as Petal and Arlo’s?

She’d always had friends. She’d been popular enough, but she’d been so busy.

Practicing guitar, writing songs—signing up for rodeo talent shows and open mics, chores, schoolwork, barrel racing, and then when she’d added trick riding, friendships had taken a back seat.

Maybe if she’d socialized more with kids her age, she wouldn’t have been so na?ve and gullible. Or if she’d tried to make friends with the other female artists in development instead of pushing herself so hard, she would have been more savvy, protected.

She pushed the negativity away and looked at her watch.

Cole had been gone a while. Then she saw him walking toward her, carrying the specialized saddle, with Rohan walking alongside him.

She searched for signs they’d gone another round, but Cole looked as calm as ever, and Rohan was talking, expression open.

Her shoulders relaxed.

“Catch up, boys?” she teased, injecting a smile into her voice.

“Getting there,” Rohan said. “I invited him for dinner at the house after the rodeo. Dad, Boone and I can grill him about the weekend you spent together that wasn’t a date but probably was.”

Rohan was teasing, but Petal and Arlo’s attention perked up.

“Ha.” She forced the syllable out. “Big brother spying on me by sending one of his big soldier buddies to check up on me when I was in LA working.”

She thought she’d hit the right note of friendly dismissiveness, but somehow ‘big’ came out sounding far too sexual. She could feel Cole’s attention like a touch, and to distract herself, she expertly saddled Cinnamon, playing close attention to the details.

“Who wants to start?”

“You, Riley, you,” Petal and Arlo sang out as if they’d practiced it.

“Run through your moves for the exhibition,” Petal cajoled.

“I’m not exhibiting,” Riley denied. “You and Arlo wanted to perform a few tricks to show other kids what you’ve learned and introduce them to trick riding.”

“We want to show off, but also to be your coaching assistants when you grow your business,” Arlo clarified.

“And we wanted to earn more horse time,” Petal added. “As the teacher and coach, you need to show off.”

Showing off was no longer on Riley’s to-do list and hadn’t been for a long time. The few times she’d been on stage over the last few years had been to cover for a sick musician or as a favor for a longtime friend or for a charitable cause, and the attention made her sick with anxiety.