In The Rancher's Arms. Trish Milburn
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so small and limiting. Even now, after her far-flung travels had gotten her nearly sold into slavery or maybe killed, there was a little part of her that wanted to jet off to some new locale. But that wasn’t possible anymore.
The faces of her kidnappers formed in her mind. She hated them with every fiber of her being. Hated that they’d made her fearful. Hated that they’d caused her to nearly lose her father. And hated them for robbing her of the very thing that had made her who she was. As she stood here at a hometown rodeo next to Neil, she realized she had no idea who she was anymore and was scared she might never find out.
Neil did his best not to stare at Arden, which proved to be harder than it should be. Even with signs of her ordeal evident—dark circles under her eyes, being too thin, the way she seemed to always be expecting an attack from every angle—she was a beautiful woman. Long, dark hair. Large, dark brown eyes. A figure that was just the right amount of curvy despite the malnourishment she’d suffered. But he sensed how she didn’t like to be stared at, the object of so much curiosity.
He didn’t blame her one bit and had decided to shield her from it without realizing he’d made the decision. He supposed it was that part of him that remembered what it was like to have those stares directed at him, to suddenly be thrust into a world where there were way more questions than answers, more fear and uncertainty than he could adequately process.
Not wanting to focus on his past, he fixed his attention on the bareback riding in the arena.
“How’s your family doing?” she asked.
“Good.” He nodded toward the grandstands. “Up there somewhere.”
He caught the expression Arden wore, as if she was at a loss how to keep the conversation going. He experienced a pang for her. The field she’d gone into told him that not knowing what to say shouldn’t be a problem for her.
“Mom actually mentioned one of your articles the other day, one you wrote for the high school paper about how the girls were unfairly targeted by the school’s dress code.”
Arden’s forehead wrinkled for a moment before relaxing. “I haven’t thought about that in forever. I can’t believe she remembers that.”
“I’d like to say it was because the article was so good, but it was just as likely because Sloane was really fired up about that issue.”
Arden smiled and appeared to relax. “I remember that, how righteously indignant she was. I’m pretty sure she had some quotes I couldn’t put in the article.”
He barked out a laugh. “Yep, that sounds like her.”
“The school really was perpetuating a double standard. I never once saw one of the guys get reprimanded. You know, that still ticks me off now that I think about it.”
“Mom agreed with you. For a while after that she was actually on the committee of parents and teachers to make sure the rules were applied fairly and without going overboard.”
“Well, glad to know some good came out of the uproar. I don’t think the administration liked me very much my senior year.”
Neil shrugged. “Sometimes you have to poke the bear to make it move.”
“Hmm, I like it. You should make T-shirts with that saying on them.”
“Maybe I will. Always looking for new ways to keep the ranch afloat.”
Arden opened her mouth a little, as if she was about to ask a question, but just then one of the bulls in the pen got rowdy and kicked the fencing. Arden yelped and jumped back.
He reached over to steady her with a nonthreatening hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He’s not getting out of there.”
Even in the dimmer lighting behind the pens, Neil could see that the color had drained out of Arden’s face. It looked similar to how it had in the convenience store that first day she’d been home. He did his best not to show his sudden anger at the people who’d done this to her. He hoped the soldiers who’d rescued her had left the kidnappers where they’d fallen. Let them be carrion for whatever roamed the wilds of Uganda.
Neil felt a tremor run through Arden’s body, and he had the strong urge to pull her into his arms. But instead of making her feel protected, he suspected that action would freak her out even more. With more reluctance than he should feel, he dropped his hand away from her and took a step back. He turned his attention to the team roping competitors, allowing Arden time to pull herself together without him watching.
When she stepped up next to him, she rested her forearms along the top of the fence as he did. Good, she was tough under the layers of fear that had accompanied her home from Africa.
They stood there, side by side, during the rest of the rodeo events, stepping away from the fence only when it was time for the bulls to be moved into position for the bull riding event at the end. He kept the conversation light, mainly talking about what was taking place in the arena or catching up on what some of the people she and Sloane had gone to school with were doing now. He wondered if their lives seemed boring compared to hers.
A couple of times he spotted people moving in their direction and ran interference with a simple shake of his head that did the trick without Arden noticing.
When they fell into silence, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting back in time to when he was the one on the receiving end of all the stares. He’d only been five at the time, but there were some images and feelings that were burned into his memory as if they’d been put there with a cattle brand. He had a feeling that Arden was feeling something similar.
Part of him wanted to walk away and shove all those long-ago memories into the dark corner of his brain where he tried to keep them. Being near Arden, with her trauma so recent it clung to her like the scent of smoke when you’d been near a fire, had seemingly opened a door to those memories, letting them come to the surface for air.
But his parents—his adoptive parents—had raised him and his adopted siblings to be good, decent, caring people. And right now, Arden was the one in need of a protective barrier and someone she could talk to about anything but her ordeal. He barely knew her, but there was no denying the connection he’d felt from the moment he’d spotted her in front of Franny Stokes, looking as panicked as an insect caught in a spider’s web.
After the last of the bull riders got tossed into the dirt, the crowd started to head for the cars. Arden didn’t make a move to leave, so he stayed by her side.
“I better go find my parents,” she said finally. “It was nice talking to you.”
“You, too.” Instead of parting, however, he fell into step beside her as they headed toward the grandstands.
The look of gratitude on Ken and Molly Wilkes’s faces told Neil that he’d done the right thing sticking by Arden throughout the evening.
“Neil, nice to see you again,” Molly said.
“You, too, ma’am.” He directed his attention to Ken. “How you doing, sir?”
“On the mend.” He wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “This one here is the best medicine this old heart could have asked for.”
Neil saw a pained look pass over Arden’s eyes before she managed to hide it. He couldn’t imagine how she must have felt when she’d been rescued only to find out her dad had suffered a heart attack.
“I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”
Ken nodded then followed everyone else toward the parking area. Molly squeezed Neil’s hand and said, “Bless you,” softly so that the words dissipated in the noise of the departure of half of Blue Falls before they could reach Arden’s ears.
He was surprised by the sudden lump in his throat so he simply nodded. As she followed Ken