Rowdy slid his boot out of the stirrup and offered his hand. “Then take the victory ride with me.”
She gripped his fingers and stepped into the saddle as he shoved back to make room. A moment later, his arms were around her holding tight.
As her father’s hand went out to grab her leg, Rowdy kicked Cinnamon into action. They shot out into the arena.
Laurel closed her eyes and leaned into his warmth. Nothing mattered but him, not the rodeo or the crowds or even her father. Only Rowdy.
As they circled, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene.”
“That doesn’t matter, but it took me a minute to figure out what you’d done. How unlike my shy Laurel to run to me.” His fingers circled her waist. “God, I missed the feel of you all day, darling.”
Everyone waved and yelled as they rounded the arena, but she didn’t care. Rowdy and she had their own private world.
“Stop calling me darling,” she said, laughing.
“Why, because you don’t love me?”
“No, because you don’t love me.”
“You’re wrong there, I do love you. I think I have since the sixth grade. I just didn’t know it until that horse knocked the brains out of me.”
Dan opened the side gate and Rowdy shot out of it away from the crowds and into the night. He rode for a while until the noise of town was only a whisper behind them, then he slowed.
She relaxed against him trying to let herself believe she’d just heard him say he loved her.
“It took me awhile to figure out why you told me not to sell and why it was so important you acted like I wasn’t in the room with you. I spent most of the day mad because you walked away, but then it hit me and you’re right.”
She started to ask about what, but he twisted her chin and kissed her hard.
“That wasn’t my best,” he said as he straightened. “But I’ll work on it later.”
She laughed and he kissed her again.
When he backed an inch away, he whispered against her cheek, “You do love me?”
“Yes.” She smiled, watching the last hint of doubt disappear from his eyes.
“Good, then we go with your plan, but you got to promise never to call me dear.”
“My plan? What plan?”
He nodded. “I keep the ranch and we don’t sell the cattle. In a year we’ll have a great place and who cares if no one in town will talk to us. Between the work and the nights together we won’t notice.”
“We’ll be partners?” she said.
He smiled. “We’ll be a lot more than that, darling.”
Afterword
Rowdy Darnell and Laurel Hayes were married the last night of the 1890 Kasota Springs Rodeo. Within five years the RL Ranch became one of the most profitable spreads in West Texas.
They had three sons and a daughter.
In 1912, Laurel Darnell was elected mayor of Kasota Springs.
Rowdy never rode in another rodeo, but folks talked about his rides for years.
Rowdy and Laurel’s partnership lasted fifty-seven years, until she died of a heart attack. Her headstone read, “Beloved wife, mother and partner.”
Rowdy didn’t mourn her death as his father had mourned his mother. Instead, he passed the ranch along to his children and spent the next two years teaching his eleven grandchildren to ride.
Two years to the day Laurel had died, he passed away in his sleep.
The children were surprised when they learned he’d already ordered his headstone. It was placed next to Laurel’s in a small cemetery on their ranch.
His stone read, “Keep praying for me, darling, I’ll be there by supper.”
THE OUTLAW
Chapter 1
January 15, 1852
Big Bend Country, Texas
Cozette Camanez straightened the pearl-white lace of her wedding gown, hating the dress almost as much as she hated herself. Everything about her life was a lie and it was all about to come crashing down around her.
Two months ago she’d made a mistake. She’d trusted a man she thought she loved and found out one stormy night that he wasn’t worth loving, or trusting.
The next morning, she’d thought she could walk away, as he had, but when it was far too late to admit what had happened between them, she’d discovered he’d left her with a reminder of what he’d done to her. A reminder that would cause her father to disown her.
Desperate, she did the only thing she could think to do. She lied. First to herself, then to others, building a world around her as she