Aidan: Loyal Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid
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mother liked to call him, a stick in the mud.
She’d taken the news of Flynn’s pregnancy well. More than well, she’d been thrilled. True to Colt’s prediction, she expressed her desire to see Ace and Flynn married first, a natural reaction for most parents in Ace’s opinion. But she’d been happy for Ace. So had Dinah, who’d rushed over after getting off duty to celebrate with them. The only damper to the evening had been Colt. Rather than join them, he’d found some reason to retreat to his room.
Ace, his cousins and the ranch crew had barely started unloading the livestock when Colt made a beeline away from the stock pens.
“Hey, where you going?” Ace hollered after him.
“The entry booth, to sign in.”
“It can wait. The rodeo doesn’t start for four more hours.”
“I won’t be long.” Colt, jogging backward, raised his hand in a farewell gesture.
Ace took his frustration out on the toolbox mounted to the side of the trailer and the finicky padlock securing the lid.
“Beau and Duke have left to sign in, too.” Harlan came up beside Ace. “You should go.”
Ace spared the ranch hand a brief glance, then returned to searching for the pliers he swore were right on top when he’d last checked the toolbox. “There’s still time.”
“Royce and I can finish here and then transport the stock for tonight’s events.”
“I don’t want to leave you two with all the work.” Moving ornery bulls and horses was a lot to handle, even for two of the Harts’ most experienced hands.
“Why not?” Harlan plucked the pliers out from under a socket set and held them out to Ace. “That’s our job, what you pay us for.”
The idea did appeal to him, and he could sure enough use a break.
It had been a tough week. Not a day went by he didn’t put in ten or twelve hours, then fall into bed shortly after supper, exhausted. Making matters worse, Flynn had given him every excuse in the book not to see him. Yeah, they’d talked on the phone, but she refused to reconsider her plans of moving to Billings. Every call had ended on a terse note.
Ace wasn’t having any better luck with Midnight. Other than persuading the horse to accept a few more treats, he’d made no real progress.
“Go on,” Harlan encouraged. “This might be your last chance to compete for a while.”
True. With the baby coming, Ace planned on spending most weekends at home, hopefully with Flynn. He didn’t let himself think about spending his weekends driving back and forth to Billings to visit his child.
He slammed shut the lid to the toolbox, the knot of tension between his shoulders throbbing. The long hours and constant demands were having an effect on him. Eight bone-crunching seconds on the back of a wildly bucking bronc might be just the ticket to alleviate his stress.
“I won’t be long.” Ace repeated his brother’s words to Harlan, the irony not lost on him.
“Bring some cold drinks back with you. Royce and I are parched.”
Ace cut across the lot, which was reasonably dry thanks to several days of fair weather. The nights were still chilly, however, and the bucking stock would be feeling frisky.
It was going to be a good rodeo.
Colt had already signed in and left the entry booth by the time Ace got there. He spotted his brother near the arena entrance, talking to an attractive barrel racer.
Figures.
“I reckon they’ll let just about anybody enter,” a familiar voice behind Ace said.
He turned and grabbed the outstretched hand of his buddy Austin Wright, shaking it briskly. “I guess I’m going to have some competition today.”
“Looks like it.” Austin’s affable grin was the same one Ace remembered from when they were young.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Thought you were chained to that tack shop of yours.”
“I break loose once in a while.”
Ace and Austin had grown up together, attended the same schools, the same church and vied for the attention of the same girls. They’d been fierce competitors on the basketball court as well as in the rodeo arena and good friends the rest of the time. In the years since high school they’d grown apart, despite living in the same town. In part because of Ace’s grueling schedule, in part because of Austin’s family situation. A father serving time for cattle rustling in a ranching community was a lot to live down.
“Let’s get together later tonight,” Ace said.
“I’d like that. After I embarrass you in the arena.”
“Feeling lucky today?”
“Against you? Always.”
“Loser buys dinner?”
“You’re on.” They shook hands again to seal their bet. “I heard you expanded your string.”
“We did.” Ace moved forward in line. “Brought a few of the new head with us today. They’re coming on strong.”
“Wish I’d drawn one.”
“I pulled a McKinley bronc.”
“Isn’t he selling off?”
“He has some contracts still to fulfill over the next couple months.” Ace found himself grinning, like he did every time he thought of Flynn and the baby. “There’s something else. I’m going to be a dad.”
“No fooling!”
Ace summarized the story of him and Flynn, omitting the details of their one-night stand.
“That’s great.” Austin beamed. “I’m really happy for you.”
Why couldn’t Colt be happy for Ace, too?
He and Austin continued chatting until it was Ace’s turn to sign in. After Austin finished and they said their goodbyes, Ace made a quick stop at the concession stand before heading back to the livestock pens. Just as he walked up, two McKinley rigs rumbled on by—Earl behind the wheel of the first truck, Flynn beside him in the passenger seat.
Flynn!
She hadn’t mentioned coming this weekend.
He checked in with Harlan and delivered the cold drinks, all the while keeping an eye on the truck with Flynn. When it came to a stop, the side door opened and she scrambled out. She then jogged around to the rear of the trailer and began directing her father as he backed up to a row of empty pens.
Ace hastened over and waited until Earl was finished parking before addressing Flynn.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Same as you. Bringing stock.”
Ace was prepared to toss her over his shoulder and carry her off if she attempted to help unload the horses. Fortunately she didn’t, leaving the task to her dad and his trio of ranch hands.
Ace hadn’t seen Flynn’s father since the auction and braced himself for a stern talking-to. It’s what he’d do in the other man’s shoes.
“Afternoon, Earl,” he said with a nod, and waited.
Earl went about his business, ignoring Ace.
He glanced at Flynn.
She shrugged.
“Sir, about the baby—”
Earl straightened, walked calmly over to Ace and stuck a finger in his chest. “I like you. But if you hurt my little girl, mark my word, there will be hell to pay.”
“I won’t hurt