CHAPTER ONE
Rosalind Dunne walked Dawn, her golden
quarter mare, to the gates and heard the loud crowd.
Sam Hughs, who’d been her grandpa’s oldest best friend
and now her guardian, had warned her about turn three.
She’d already heard several riders complain about the
group of spectators who were being obnoxious and distracting at
the turn.
She
glanced around the Las Vegas Sagebrush Ranch Arena towards turn
three and saw them.
All men.
It Figures!
She counted at least nine.
They were whistling, hollering, and waving, what she
guessed were newly acquired bandanas and cowboy hats at each
rider that rode by.
She could tell they definitely weren’t real cowboys, only
wannabes.
Not today, her mind screamed, as she angrily
kicked at the dirt.
She couldn’t afford to lose.
This was the last big Annual Barrel Race competition
before the World Championship Show in November.
Today’s winner would receive a purse of fifteen thousand
dollars.
Mr. Kennedy, her real-estate agent, had left
a message, saying that Mr. Hillsboro, the owner, weren’t going
to wait any longer for the down payment.
She needed to sign the purchase agreement and close by
the year end; or it was going back on the market.
Time wasn’t being her friend.
She wasn’t about to let the land slip through her
fingers. Not when
she was so close but her time frame had closed to three months.
Everything would’ve been completed by now if Sam hadn’t
reminded her about her grandpa’s will and his old school
marriage stipulation.
Dawn snickered and Rosalind eased up on the
bridle. “Sorry girl.
I’m just mad.”
What was she going to do?
She needed a major portion of her funds by the end of the
year. The land she
wanted, no needed; wasn’t going to wait for her to turn thirty.
She was only twenty-five!
It was for sale now!
Mr. Dwight Hillsboro, the owner of the
adjacent ranch to hers, had promised to give her first chance to
purchase his land when he decided to sell.
He’d called her a couple months ago saying he was going
to list his ranch because he needed the cash.
He knew how important his land was to her but she
understood he needed the money.
Now it was her turn to make good on her guarantee to buy
it.
If things would fall into place like she’d
planned she’d be able to open up the land as a sanctuary for
aging and abused horses.
She already had several horses on her waiting list.
Damn it!
She wanted the land.
She needed the land.
It all came down to the land.
It was everything.
Squeezin’ Lizzie, as she liked to call the
saddle horn, she pulled herself up on top of Dawn.
Suddenly, the drone from the crowd in the arena grew
louder. She took a
wild guess that another rider must have taken turn three.
Those men had to be drunker than a peach orchard sow or
crazier than a parrot eatin’ stick candy, she thought.
Without missing a stride, she moved Dawn
closer to the posts to have a clearer view of what was
happening. The next
rider raced around the barrels but instead of watching the
rider, her gaze horned in on the group of men.
One of them was wearing a sign that read, About to be
Hitched. At least he
had a choice; he wasn’t being forced to get married.
As the rider neared the third barrel in front
of the group, they waved and howled.
The horse got spooked and slowed down.
Not good.
Poor rider.
The rider saved the run but not the time.
Damn wannabe’s.
Where were the officials?
Her gloved fingers tightened on the reins,
which caused Dawn again to snicker in protest and pull her head.
Disgust replaced her smile and she was about to complain
to the officials herself, but felt an intense stare coming from
the group of the men.
She tried not to look but found the one pair of eyes that
were looking right at her.
They took her breath away.
OMG.
He was so hot he could melt ice cubes on a cold day in
Minnesota.
The eyes belonged to the most magnificent
hunk of a man she’d ever seen.
And she’d been around tough, good looking bull riders,
bare back riders and bronco riders before.
But for some reason the man’s unbroken stare was giving
her butterflies.
Breathe.
Damn it.
It had to be his blonde hair; it had always
been her down fall.
His however, stuck out like a casino in a church district.
She smiled when she noticed the way his midnight black
Stetson was sitting pushed back on his head.
Did he know wearing his hat that way meant he
was single and looking for company?
She doubted it.
Could he be the one she needed?
She tweaked her lips as she stared back and
tipped her hat to him.
She looked away first, the man wouldn’t give up staring
at her, it was to unsettling.
“You ready Rosalind?”
Sam appeared at her side and patted her leg.
“Yea, as ready as I’ll ever be.
Mr. Kennedy called to…”
“Stop.
I don’t want to hear it.
You need to focus on the run.
Mr. Kennedy can wait,” said Sam, as he pulled and checked
her straps.
She nodded but she couldn’t let it go.
How could her Grandpa have been so cruel?
What had he wanted her to do?
She knew how to handle money; hadn’t she survived the
last four years on her own?
She didn’t waste money.
She couldn’t wait five years to be given permission to
use her money whenever she wanted or need to.
And she sure in hell didn’t want to get married for it to
be given to her.
Sam was right.
She needed to focus.
The land, Mr. Kennedy and her anger had to be put on the
back burner.
Rosalind went into her routine mode.
First thing was to check her shirt; she patted her
fringed western shirt to make sure it was tucked in.
She absently touched each of the white capped snaps,
insuring they were all properly fastened and pulled her hat
string tight. She
turned her head and felt the weight of her braid on her back.
She couldn’t spare any deductions for
improper dress. The
judges were strict when it came to the National Barrel Horse
Association points concerning the dress codes.
The NBHA fined members up to twenty-five dollars per
violation.
“Rosalind Dunne, rider number fifteen, to the
gate.”
She nudged Dawn forward with her knees to the
starting line and turned her attention to the signal.
The flag was her center point then the words.
She waited and waited.
“Ready…go!”
The flag dropped.
Dawn didn’t need any nudge; she took off like
a bat out of hell.
Fifteen, sixteen, and turn, Rosalind mindlessly counted off to
herself to insure she was in time with each long stride Dawn
took. She rounded
barrel one and then barrel two with no problems.
As she neared the third barrel, the dreaded turn, she
heard the shouts, whistles, and the catcalls.
She used all her experience to avoid a catastrophe on the
turn.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the
blonde hair man stand up and wave.
As he did, he began to fall face first into the arena,
right by her, but was saved by his friends just in time as she
passed by.
Even with the distraction, she completed the
hairpin turn with the stirrups nearly touching the ground.
She braced herself for the last leg of the run.
She loosened up on the reins, to give Dawn her head as
they rushed to the finish line with incredible speed.
“Fourteen-point-one seconds for Rosalind
Dunne.”
The voice shouted out over the intercom.
Hot damn!
A record time.
She’d done it!
She’d secured a coveted spot at the World
Championship Competition.
Her heart was pounding so fast she could hardly breathe.
Somehow, she smiled and raised her arms in victory and
took Dawn back out to the arena.
As she cooled down Dawn, a crowd of
well-wishers began to gather.
Between the handshakes and conversation, she found
herself looking out into the stands in curiosity.
To her astonishment, the man who’d almost fallen into the
arena now stood. No
weaved and still had his gaze fixed on her.
Who was this man?
She hadn’t recognized him or anyone in his group.
Was he at the rodeo for entertainment?
Or was he a local chap, out on the town for the weekend?
To her dismay, more of the rodeo participants
came over shouting out praises and trapped her in.
By the time she broke free, it was time for her to ride
back into the arena to receive her trophy.
As she took her victory lap, the first thing she noticed
was the man with the blue eyes and his friends were gone.
She planned to get married while she was in
Las Vegas. A quick
and fast one; they happened all the time here like that.
Damn, back to square one.
He might’ve been her ticket to financial freedom.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?
She smiled a little again but it disappeared
as quickly as it had appeared.
Her stomach rolled a little at the thought of all of her
inheritance sitting in the bank and she couldn’t get at it.
Damn Grandpa.
Her plan had to work.
Time was up, it had to happen tonight.
Some greenhorn man out there had to be money
hungry. All she had
to do was convince some sucker to marry her and then divorce her
for a bonus. Simple.
It would only be a business agreement, no night of bliss;
the poor sucker would go home alone.
Being married wasn’t her cup of tea, it only caused
heartaches.
Copyright 2012, Sonia Gunter - DO NOT REPRODUCE
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