It Takes a Cowboy

Scott shook his head. “The best way to deal with that sort of thing is to make your office hours very clear and refuse to discuss business during your personal hours.”

“I’m afraid that’s not always possible,” Blair said lightly. “Some problems simply can’t be handled Monday through Friday from nine to five.”

He lifted a shoulder. “From my experience, there are few situations that can’t be put off until later.”

A frown that might have expressed disapproval crossed Blair’s face, but she smoothed it quickly. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” He turned to her aunt. “It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Townsend. I predict we will meet again.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” she said with a smile.

Blair glanced at her nephew, who stood close to Scott’s side. “Jeffrey, be good for Aunt Wanda. Don’t give her any grief about bedtime.”

“Okay.” He was obviously reluctant for Scott to leave. “When will I see you again, Scott?”

“How about next weekend?” Scott suggested. “That is, if it’s okay with your aunt.”

Jeffrey was nearly beside himself with excitement. “Please, please, Aunt Blair. Can we go?”

Although Blair didn’t look happy about being put on the spot, she hesitantly nodded. “I don’t really see why not.”

“Then it’s settled,” Scott said, ruffling the boy’s shaggy hair, feeling a wave of affection go through him. Jeffrey was a cute kid, despite his problems. He was young enough to turn himself around and bright enough to have a fine future ahead of him. Scott was glad to make any contribution to that future he could.

Looking extremely satisfied, Jeffrey allowed them to leave without further delay.

Outside, Scott opened the passenger door to his Yukon and helped Blair into the high seat. He closed her door for her, then loped a bit stiffly around the front of the vehicle to his own side. He was determined to conceal any discomfort he felt this evening. He suspected that Blair might not be overly sympathetic, unlike the buckle bunnies who spent so much time and energy kissing the bruises of major rodeo stars.

Apparently, he wasn’t quite as good an actor as he had thought. “You were hurt this morning, weren’t you?” she demanded as soon as he had settled behind the wheel and fastened his seat belt.

He started the engine. “No. Couple of bruises, that’s all.”

“It’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck.”

Backing out of the driveway, he kept his voice casual. “One of the first things you learn in rodeo is to fall as safely as possible. Serious injuries happen, of course, but they’re rare, considering how many participate in the sport.”

“I saw that movie—the one about the handsome young rodeo star who died when he was gored by a bull.” Her tone was so accusatory, Scott felt almost as if she blamed him for the tragedy.

“That was one of the rare incidents I mentioned. Accidents happen, Blair. In rodeo—and in everyday life.”

“Especially in your type of everyday life. Riding bulls, racing cars, jumping out of planes—I’m beginning to wonder if you value your life at all.”

“More than you could possibly understand,” he responded gently. “I’m not trying to shorten my life, Blair. I’m trying to experience it to the fullest.”

“And yet you have no serious bonds with anyone else because you don’t want anyone to worry about you or grieve for you if you don’t survive.”

He grimaced in response to her all-too-accurate summation of things he had said to her. “Something like that,” he agreed.

“Then there’s an important part of life you aren’t experiencing, isn’t there?” she countered logically.

He gave a resigned, half-amused shake of his head. “You’re still in lawyer mode. You’re trying to trap me with my own words.”

“I’m not trying to trap you in any way,” she replied quietly.

After a somewhat tense pause, Scott cleared his throat. “So, other than thinking of all the entrants as reckless fools, how did you like your first rodeo?”

“It was...interesting. A very nice man sitting next to me explained some of the things that were going on—the origins of the events and how they have evolved, how they’re scored and so on.”

“A very nice man?” Scott repeated, not liking the sound of that. “Anyone I know?”