and dressed in fresh clothes.
“Your friend knocked on my door about an hour ago.” He gave her a disapproving look. “He told me he had business in town and couldn’t stick around. But he made me promise that I wouldn’t leave this place without you.”
“Thanks,” Lexie said. “This motel was a bad choice. Did you manage to sleep through the racket last night?”
“Racket? What racket? I didn’t hear a thing.” He sat down to wait while Lexie finished packing. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I feel responsible for you. And that cowboy looked like a man who could turn a girl’s head.”
“Nothing happened, Aaron. He stayed in the room to keep me safe. That was all.”
Aaron’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “That’s what he said, too. I just wanted to make sure. I don’t know what your sister would think about your spendin’ the night with a strange fellow.”
“She won’t think anything if we don’t tell her.”
Aaron pondered her words for a moment. Then his weathered face lit in a mischievous grin. “What’s my keeping mum worth to you?” he asked.
“How about breakfast—my treat, anywhere you want?”
“Sounds good. There’s a cozy little diner just down the street. Let’s go.”
He picked up Lexie’s duffel and followed her outside.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER SHOWERING AND CHANGING IN THE TRAILER, SHANE TOOK A cab to the Hotel Albuquerque, where Brock had arranged to meet him for breakfast. He wasn’t looking forward to their conversation, but at least he could count on some good food.
He found Brock having coffee at an outdoor table on the patio. The boss was dressed for the rodeo in a light blue denim shirt, Wranglers, and custom-made boots that had probably cost more than their waitress made in six months. His silver-mounted turquoise bolo clip was authentic old pawn, a hand-made Navajo treasure from the early 1900s.
Shane pulled out a wrought-iron chair and sat down. He’d already weighed the question of how much to tell Brock about his night with Lexie in the motel. The answer: nothing.
“So how’s it going?” Brock set down his coffee cup and passed Shane the menu. “Did you make arrangements to ride that bull?”
“I did. It wasn’t hard. New bulls aren’t in high demand. Too unpredictable.”
“Do you think you can ride him?”
“I plan to try like hell. Somebody needs to end his buck-off streak. It might as well be me. I just hope he gives me a decent score.” Shane stirred creamer into the coffee the waitress had brought him. The conversation stalled for a moment as she took their orders and left.
“And what about the fair Miss Champion?” Brock asked. “Any progress on that front?”
“None worth mentioning. She was parked next to the trailer last night. We . . . exchanged a few words. I invited her in for pizza, but she didn’t stay long. The lady’s not going to change her mind. That damned bull is like family to her.”
“People have been known to sell out family members. It happens all the time.” Brock sipped his refilled coffee. He liked it black and strong enough to strip paint.
“So when do I get to meet this wonder bull up close and personal?” Brock asked.
“I know where to find him. I could take you there after breakfast. But if Lexie’s around, she might run you off with a pitchfork.”
“I can deal with that. Maybe I can even convince her that I mean her and her family no harm.”
“Good luck with that.” While the waitress brought their plates, Shane relayed what Lexie had told him about the threats to the ranch and the loss of the two-year-old bull.
“And she thinks I’m behind it? Good Lord, I may have done some underhanded things in my life, but I’d never stoop that low!” Brock speared a piece of sausage with his fork.
“I told her it wasn’t your style. But she didn’t seem convinced.” Shane ground pepper onto his eggs. “What did you do to her family, anyway? They all seem to hate your guts.”
Brock shrugged. “Not much. It was years ago, when the cattle ranches were losing their grazing permits on public land. One of the best parcels was still privately owned, and it was up for sale. A hundred ninety acres—grass, water . . . It was a cattleman’s dream. Bert Champion wanted to buy it. He’d made an offer, put down a deposit with the owner, and was trying to work out financing with the bank. Buying that land would’ve meant mortgaging his ranch, but