Chapter 44

Fifteen months later—National Circuit Finals Rodeo

As the lights dimmed, lasers danced around the coliseum to a pounding rock beat. Shawnee sat in the wide alley leading up to the arena gate with the three most important men in her life. Brady, her team roping partner, on one side. Roy standing patient and calm beneath her. And Cole on the other side, aboard Hammer, all duded up in a white shirt, red silk bandana, and red and white chaps with the National Circuit Finals logo.

It was so damn perfect it made her shiver.

“Nervous?” Brady asked.

“Pumped.” The shiver boogied up and down her spine. “I’ve never roped on television before.”

He angled her a sly grin. “Well, you’ll definitely be the star of the show tonight…especially after you make your grand entrance.”

She kicked him in the shin. He snickered. Not that it mattered. Cole wasn’t paying attention, too busy watching his uncle and Violet on the back of the chutes. They set the flank strap and hovered protectively while a bareback rider prepared to climb down on one of the nine Jacobs horses that had been selected to buck at the second-most prestigious event in professional rodeo.

And Cole had been chosen to be one of the pickup men.

Shawnee had put the bug in Joe’s ear and he’d taken it from there. He knew everyone who mattered, and no one could argue that Cole didn’t deserve to be here. All the publicity he and Shawnee had generated last year hadn’t hurt. Plus, Jacobs Livestock as a whole kept grabbing more and more of the spotlight—most recently with Riata Rose being named Bareback Horse of the Year in all of pro rodeo.

As far as Shawnee was concerned, Violet should be working in the arena, too, but that might be more than the old boys’ club could handle all at once. A black man announcing the National Circuit Finals and a woman competing in the team roping? Their heads were probably already on the verge of exploding.

Well, they’d better brace themselves. When this rodeo was over, Shawnee’s obligation to Brady and New York was done. As of Monday she was officially back on the Jacobs Livestock payroll. Violet was so caught up in wheeling and dealing—not to mention diapers—she was more than happy to hand over her chaps. Since the moment she’d learned to crawl, Rosie Cassidy had kept them all on the run. Even her big brother, who got regular baby-chasing duty.

“She never stops,” Beni complained.

He didn’t find this nearly as amusing as all the adults in his life did. Then Cole would scoop her up with one big hand and she’d cuddle against his chest and bat her eyes at him, sweet as honey. Just like that little girl with Down syndrome at today’s Exceptional Kids Rodeo. She’d been terrified by the commotion, the other rug rats, the horses, and the cowboys with their big hats. Cole took his off, squatted down, spoke to her softly, and offered her his hand. After a few moments, she took it. By the end of the event, he’d had her up on Roy, squealing with delight as he held her in the saddle while Shawnee walked them slowly around a miniature barrel racing pattern.

It seemed damn selfish to rob some kid of a father like that, even if it meant having Shawnee for a mother. So, yeah, she might be reconsidering her stand on adoption.

Someday.

The fear still flared up. She had so much to lose now. But overall, she was feeling a lot more optimistic about her somedays. It was hard not to, since Tori’s sister Elizabeth and Elizabeth’s wife, Pratimi, had taken charge of Shawnee and everyone they could hunt down who shared her DNA. They were absolutely giddy, finding a large family with a pronounced history of malignancies to include in their study on the genetic roots of cancer. Elizabeth extracted tissue samples and unraveled the DNA while Pratimi drilled them with health history questions, then cross-matched the results in some superpowered computer program that would, they hoped, eventually be able to diagnose cancer before it happened, just from a drop of blood.

They’d already caught an early-stage case of lung cancer in one of her cousins, undoubtedly saving his life.

Shawnee might have to battle the beast again, but she was poked, prodded, and scanned so often it was nearly impossible for it to sneak up on her. And if the time came—she was working hard on if instead of when—she’d have the medical equivalent of the Avengers on her side.

The music reached a crescendo as the alley gate swung open and a pair of flag bearers burst into the arena, galloped a full lap, and skidded to a stop on either side of the far end.

Tyrell’s golden voice boomed from the rafters. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first performance of the National Circuit Finals Rodeo! We begin tonight by introducing you to the men and women from across the nation who’ve qualified to compete, beginning in the Northwest with the Columbia Circuit!”

One by one, the twelve circuits were introduced. The Badlands Circuit of North and South Dakota, the Turquoise Circuit of Arizona and New Mexico, followed by California, Texas, and Montana. Each delegation galloped in and took their places in the two lines that stretched the length of the arena. And finally, “Last but certainly not least, our cowboys and cowgirls from the Northeast, the First Frontier Circuit!”

Shawnee and Brady thundered in behind the rest of the contestants and stopped at the very end of one of the lines.

“Our bullfighters—” Tyrell continued. “Joe Cassidy, Wyatt Darrington, and Shorty Edwards!” The three stepped out and saluted the crowd. “And our pickup men, Brent Sutton and Cole Jacobs.”

Cole and Brent trotted out and took their places, one at the end of each line, which put Cole conveniently—and purposely—right next to Shawnee.

“And now, friends, we’re going to pause for a moment to recognize history in the making. Tonight, Shawnee Pickett will be the first woman to ever compete in the team roping at the National Circuit Finals.” Tyrell paused until the round of applause died down. “I am proud to call this woman a friend, and honored to turn the spotlight over to her for a special presentation.”

Shawnee froze when an actual spotlight trained on her. Oh God. So many people. And cameras. Her heart started scrabbling around in her chest like a frantic rat. What had possessed her…

Brady reached over and tugged the reins away out of her fist. Everyone was staring. Waiting. She had no choice. She got off her horse. Then she turned to Cole and said, “Come down here.”

He frowned at her, suspicious. “Why?”

“Get off your damn horse, Cole.”

He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind—which was a fairly accurate assessment—huffed out an exasperated breath, and stepped off his horse. Shawnee grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding Hammer’s reins, sank down on one knee, and tilted her head back to look way, way up at him as a murmur rippled through the crowd, slowly swelling to a roar. Above the bucking chutes, the massive video screen flashed: Marry me, Cole.

Cole looked as if he’d swallowed a thistle. “Did you have to?”

“Hey, if I wait around for you to calculate the exact right time and place, we’ll be honeymooning in a nursing home.” She pushed her mouth into a smile that felt like it might crack down the middle. “So? What’s it gonna be? Do I get to spend the rest of my life being your for worse?”

Cole swore. Then he latched both hands under her arms and dragged her up and into a hug that lifted her clean off the ground, and capped it with a quick, hard kiss.

“Does that mean yes?” she gasped, crushed against him.

“Hell yes.” Then he plunked her back down on her feet. “Now, quit screwing around and go kick ass.”

She grinned. “Yes, dear.”

And for once, Shawnee did exactly as she was told.

Order Kari Lynn Dell’s next book
in the Texas Rodeo series

Fearless in Texas

On sale April 2018