The Comeback Cowboy Page 2

  “Decaffeinated,” Adele called after his retreating back, and resisted adding, “You know what your doctor said.”

  A few minutes later, she looked up from her work to see Ty stride through the lobby door. She had to admit he wasn’t hard to look at. And taller than she’d expected. Picking up the house phone, she paged the kitchen and said, “Tell Pop he’s here,” when Cook answered.

  Reaching the counter, Ty removed his cowboy hat, and an unruly lock of sandy-blond hair promptly fell across his tanned forehead. His attempts to push it off his face were wasted…and also charming.

  “Welcome again, Mr. Boudeau.” She gave him her best professional yet friendly smile.

  “Please, call me Ty.”

  “And I’m Adele.”

  The registration process didn’t take long. When she finished, she put together a stack of papers, including a brochure, maps of the ranch and the nearby town of Markton, the current week’s schedule of classes and events and a list of rules and regulations.

  “Please read through this the first chance you have.” She pointed to the papers stapled together on top. “You can’t begin using the facilities until we have a signed copy on file.”

  “Tell me, am I signing away all my rights?”

  Adele thought she detected a twinkle of amusement in his dark brown eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t all-business, as she’d first suspected.

  “No. You’re just agreeing to abide by the rules and regulations. Very standard stuff. We already have the liability waiver and insurance certificate you faxed last week.”

  Ty signed the form without reading it and slid the papers across the counter.

  “Let me make you a copy.” She went into the office, where she kept a desktop copier, and returned shortly. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Ty folded the sheets in thirds and slipped them in his shirt pocket, again without reading them.

  Oh, well, she’d done all she could.

  Her grandfather appeared from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his chronic limp barely noticeable for once.

  “Hey there, young fellow.” He extended his right hand. “I’m mighty glad to make your acquaintance.”

  “Mr. Donnelly.” Ty’s glance fell for the briefest of seconds on Pop’s hand before clasping it in a firm shake. “It’s a real honor to meet you, sir.”

  Adele liked that Ty didn’t appear put off by her grandfather’s missing right thumb, a casualty of a roping accident that had happened long before she was born.

  “The honor’s mine,” Pop said. “I’ve been watching your career since you were competing in junior rodeo.”

  “And I’ve studied yours.”

  “You have to go back a lot of years for that.” Pop laughed, but it was filled with warmth.

  “I’m counting on you teaching me a thing or two while I’m here. It’s one of the reasons I came.”

  Pop stood a little taller. Most of their guests were recreationists and wannabe cowboys. Some were high-school students hoping to eventually compete on the professional rodeo circuit. Almost none of them knew about her grandfather’s once impressive and long-ago rodeo career. Not until they got here and saw the photos and framed buckles on the lobby wall.

  “I doubt there’s anything I can teach you.” Pop chortled. “Now Adele here, she’s likely to have a trick or two up her sleeve you can use.”

  “I saw her earlier at the arena,” Ty said. “She’s good.”

  “She’s the best in the state, man or woman.” Pop’s voice rang with pride.

  Adele loved her grandfather, but at the moment she wanted to cringe. “Mr. Boudeau is one of the best in the world, Pop.”

  “Doesn’t mean he can’t learn a thing or two from you.”

  “I agree.” Ty answered good-naturedly. “Getting help, from both of you, is the reason I’m here.”

  Adele wondered if he’d added the “from both of you” for her grandfather’s sake, considering how hesitantly the words had rolled off his tongue.

  “Pop, why don’t you show Mr. Boudeau to his cabin? You two can swap stories on the ride.”

  “Nothing I’d like better. Except I’m due to meet the boys in thirty minutes.”

  His regular Thursday-night poker game. She’d forgotten about that. “I’ll call Stick.”

  “Adele, maybe you can take me?” One corner of Ty’s mouth lifted in a grin. A very potent grin. “I’d be much obliged.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Good,” Pop said, with more satisfaction than the situation called for. “That’s settled, then.”

  As Adele left the lodge with Ty, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her grandfather had set her up. She should be mad at him, but when she hopped onto the truck seat next to Ty, being mad was the furthest thing from her mind.

  TY SLANTED A GLANCE AT Adele, wondering what she was thinking. They’d both been relatively quiet during the five-minute drive through the main part of the ranch, except for the occasional item of interest she pointed out.

  “Is this my home away from home?” he asked when she directed him to an attractive cabin atop a rise.

  “Yes.” She removed an old-fashioned hotel key from her pocket. No key cards for Cowboy College. “You’ll love the view from the back patio.”

  They climbed out of the truck, and Adele led him along a split-fence-lined walkway to the front porch. Unlocking the cabin door, she swung it wide, and went ahead only when he indicated for her to precede him inside.

  Ty took in the cabin’s spacious and charmingly appointed interior, which appeared to have every amenity he could possibly want. “Very nice.”

  “If you aren’t happy here, we can always move you to a different cabin.”

  “Are you kidding? This is great.”

  “It’s a little far from the barn and arena.” Adele walked over to the drapes on the other side of the living room and opened them, revealing a sliding glass door that looked out onto a calendar-perfect view of the nearby pond and distant mountains.

  He joined her at the door and scanned the horizon. A glorious red sun was starting to dip behind one of the mountain peaks.

  “It’s worth the extra distance just for this.”

  Adele eased away from him, piquing his interest. Women generally acted the opposite, hanging all over him if possible. It was either a hazard or a perk of his profession, depending on a guy’s perspective. Ty mostly found it wearisome. Except in Adele’s case. Sharing the same air space with her had definitely been enjoyable.

  Apparently not so much for her.

  “There are two bedrooms,” she said, walking past the fully equipped kitchenette. “The master and a small guest room. The couch also folds out into a bed. Your rental agreement allows for overnight guests up to three consecutive nights, but you have to report them.”

  “Dana will be glad to hear that.” Was it his imagination or did a glint of curiosity flash in Adele’s eyes? “My little sister’s been bugging me to come here and take lessons from you.”

  “Oh, really? We’d love to have her,” Adele said, so smoothly that Ty figured he’d been mistaken.

  Perhaps because she was so different from the women he usually met, or that she was a roper like himself, he found himself trusting her. Enough to reveal the real reason he’d come to Cowboy College.

  He hadn’t expected he would, the idea of enrolling in a roping school for amateurs being hard to swallow. Taking instructions from a woman made it worse. But she’d impressed him in the arena, demonstrating a core of steel.

  Like the one he had lost.

  “It’s not just my horse,” he said abruptly. “It’s me.”

  “What?” She turned to face him, her expression puzzled.

  He cleared his throat, freeing the words stuck in it. “The horse I’d been riding the past four years suffered a fractured metacarpal last December in a fall. Right before the National Finals Rodeo. I was ranked second at the time.”

  “I know, I read about it in Roper Spor
ts News.”

  “I lost more than a gold buckle and a title that day. Iron Grip Ropes had signed me for a sponsorship deal. A very lucrative sponsorship deal.”

  “Which was contingent on you winning,” she correctly guessed.

  “I competed on a friend’s horse, but lost the championship by one-point-eight seconds.” Ty swallowed. Six months later, the bitter defeat still stung. “I bought Hamm in February after an extensive search. He’s an incredible horse. Big, athletic, strong, fast and smart as a whip. Everything I could want.” Ty paused.

  “What’s wrong, then?”

  “That one-point-eight seconds. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I train, whatever trick I try, I can’t seem to perform any better on Hamm than I did on my friend’s horse. And I don’t know why.”

  “Sometimes the partnership between a rider and horse is off.”

  “I’m hoping that’s all it is. Because the alternative, that I’ve somehow lost my competitive edge…well, let’s just say it’s not acceptable.”

  He went to Adele and took her hand in his. The calluses on her palm from years of roping were in stark contrast to the silky smooth skin on the back of her hand. Like her, he thought—tough on one side, soft on the other.

  “This isn’t easy for me to ask, Adele. But I need your help.”

  She gazed at their joined hands for several seconds, then lifted her eyes to his. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good. Because the Buffalo Bill Cody Stampede Rodeo is less than four weeks away, and I have to win.”

  Chapter Two

  Adele stood with Pop on the fence beside the chute and watched Ty position his horse in the roping box. People who weren’t involved in rodeoing had no idea how many hours were spent training for the sport by studying others from the sidelines.

  “What do you think?” Pop asked.

  “Good-looking horse.”

  “Real nice looking.”

  So was the rider, but Adele kept that opinion to herself. Ty sat tall in the saddle, his Stetson angled low over his eyes, his Western cut shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. She wondered if he’d object to having his picture taken for their next website updates.

  Almost immediately, she changed her mind. Ty had come to Cowboy College because of a problem, one he hoped to correct. It would be thoughtless and insensitive of her to take advantage of his misfortune in order to advance the ranch.

  Ready at last, Ty signaled the wrangler, who pulled back the gate on the chute and released the calf. Ty’s run, over in the span of a few heartbeats, was a good one. Not, however, spectacular. And spectacular runs were needed to win World championships.

  “What do you think his problem is?” Adele asked her grandfather as Ty exited the arena.

  “Not saying yet.” Pop waved to Ty and pointed at the box, indicating for him to take another run.

  Ty’s admiration of her grandfather yesterday afternoon wasn’t unfounded. Pop had been National tie-down roping champion for three years straight in the late 1950s, and again in 1963, before permanently retiring. Granted, things were done a little differently in those days, but the basic sport had remained the same.

  One aspect not the same was the popularity of tie-down roping. That had grown tremendously in recent years, especially among amateurs. Not only did horse people with an interest in roping participate, so did thrill-seekers looking to try something new, urbanites wanting to experience the cowboy life, and even companies offering team-building retreats for their employees.

  The increase in popularity was what had given Adele the idea to start Cowboy College. Her business savvy combined with her grandfather’s experience made a winning combination. Together they’d turned a run-down ranch into a thriving enterprise.

  Seven Cedars hadn’t always been in trouble. For three decades after her grandparents bought the place, they’d run a modestly successful cattle business. Then, during Adele’s junior year at university, her grandmother had died unexpectedly from an aneurysm. Pop sank into grief, letting the ranch go. Adele’s father wasn’t able to leave his job and move his second family from Texas to tend the ranch. Until Adele arrived after graduation, no one realized how bad the situation at Seven Cedars, and Pop’s depression, had gotten.

  Cowboy College not only breathed new life into the ranch, it gave her grandfather a purpose again. Within a year, they’d opened their doors, and had grown steadily in the six years since. Guests came from all over the country now, spending anywhere from a long weekend to weeks on end.

  Ty Boudeau, however, was their first ever professional roper.

  His horse, Hamm, lined up in the box with only the smallest amount of urging. “Go!” he shouted. As on the first run, the wrangler released the calf and Ty successfully roped it in a respectable time.

  “He could do this all day and it wouldn’t be any different,” Adele commented.

  “I’m afraid you’re right.” Pop rolled the toothpick stuck in his mouth from one side to the other. He was rarely without one since giving up chewing tobacco years earlier. Another of his doctor’s mandates.

  “The horse isn’t taking one wrong step,” Adele commented, “and Ty’s doing exactly what he should be doing.”

  “But the magic just isn’t happening.”

  “Could his problem be lack of confidence?”

  Pop shrugged. “Possibly. Losing a world championship when you’re as close as he was could set anyone back.”

  “Except Ty doesn’t strike me as lacking confidence.” In or out of the arena, thought Adele.

  But then, he’d lost much more than the championship. Sponsorship deals, good ones, didn’t grow on trees, and had launched more than one athlete on a successful post-competing career.

  “You never know,” Pop mused out loud. “He could be putting on a good front. My guess is it’s the horse.”

  Adele shot her grandfather a sideways look. “You just agreed Hamm’s a nice horse.”

  “But he isn’t Ty’s other horse. Don’t get me wrong. The boy was always a good roper, one to watch since he began competing in junior rodeo. He didn’t come on strong until four years ago, when he got that horse. It was a perfect partnership. Now he’s lost that partner.”

  “I think Hamm has the potential to be every bit as good as Ty’s other horse.”

  “Maybe even better.”

  Adele nodded in agreement. “He just has to realize that.”

  “I’m thinking he already does.” Pop’s expression became pensive. “Recovering from a loss isn’t easy, be it someone you’ve loved or a dream you’ve held. Something inside dies. There’s no miracle cure and no set timetable for recovery. Ty will come back when he’s ready.” Pop turned a fond smile on Adele. “Or when someone shows him the way.”

  She patted his hand in return, recalling their early days of Cowboy College. “You could be right.”

  Stepping off the fence, she pushed a damp strand of hair off her face. The temperature might be only in the low seventies, but the bright morning sun beat down on them, warming her through and through. “If he were anyone else but Ty Boudeau, I’d recommend the beginners’ class. The best way to get to know your horse is by starting with the basics.”

  Pop also stepped off the fence. “Why not Ty?”

  “He’s…one of the best ropers out there. He doesn’t need a beginners’ class.”

  “Are you sure? Could be just the ticket.”

  “He’ll laugh in our faces, then pack his bags.”

  “He won’t laugh if he’s committed.” Pop moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “And Ty strikes me as a man with a mission.”

  “Excuse me for disagreeing.”

  “Relax, Dellie. You know it’s a good idea. Ty Boudeau has everything it takes to be the next World Champion. And when he is, he’s gonna be thanking you and me.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell him he has to take the beginners’ class. You are.”

&nbs
p; “ISN’T THIS PLACE great? My husband and I arrived just a few days ago. We’ve never been here before. Have you?”

  The woman astride the horse standing beside Ty had been rambling nonstop for five minutes solid, not caring if he answered her question or not before going on to the next one.

  It was different being around people who didn’t recognize him. Different and unsettling. When had he become so accustomed to the attention?

  “How’d you get into roping? My husband rodeoed some when he was growing up. We saw a show on cable TV about couples roping, and decided to give it a try. And now we’re hooked. Me, not so much.”

  The woman paused to take a breath. Ty used the lull to observe Adele.

  She stood on the ground giving instructions to the group, which was comprised of about a dozen beginner ropers. Ty only half listened. He was quite familiar with the training technique she described—a fake calf head attached to a bale of hay and pulled by a wrangler driving an ATV. The group had assembled in one of the smaller arenas beside the barn, away from the ropers practicing in the main arena, in case the ATV spooked their horses.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually taking a roping class.” The woman untangled her reins for the third time.

  “Me, either.”

  When Pop had proposed the idea that Ty participate in the afternoon beginners’ class, he’d balked. Then he learned Adele would be teaching it. That, and the arguments Pop had presented about getting back to basics, convinced Ty to give one—and only one—class a try. He told himself it wasn’t because he found Adele attractive. Rather, he wanted to see if she could teach as well as she roped. His decision to remain at Cowboy College depended on the outcome.

  She continued explaining how the wrangler would take off on the ATV, and that the riders should allow their horses to follow the calf head and bale of hay, rather than attempt to direct them. Yeah, yeah. Ty suppressed a yawn.

  His cell phone rang a minute later, coming just when he thought he’d reached his boredom threshold. Unclipping the phone from his belt, he checked the screen. A photo of his younger sister appeared with her name above it.