Cowboy Lessons (Harlequin American Romance) by Pamela Britton

Author:Pamela Britton [Britton, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Romance, Women's Fiction, Forever Love, Adult, Bachelor, Single Woman, Sensual, Hearts Desire, Western, Cowboys, Millionaire, Computer Wizard, Cowboy Material, Business Deal, Ranch Deed, Cowboy Lessons, Simple Exchange, Teaching, Cowgirl, Family Homestead, Groom Lessons
Publisher: Harlequin American Romance
Published: 2014-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

He held a fishing pole in his hands when he came back from the barn. Amanda couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Actually,” Scott said to her when she asked him what he was doing with a fishing pole, “this is my soon-to-be-patented Acme steer-catching pole.”

Steer-catching what? Amanda stiffened.

“Somehow, I don’t think the Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association would approve,” Chase said in a monotone.

Amanda almost turned toward her longtime friend, but she just couldn’t take her eyes off the thing in Scott’s hands. It was a PVC pipe, about fifteen feet long or so, with a noose hanging out of one end. The other end of the rope trailed from the opposite hole, the thing resembling a fishnet, without the net.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Sure I am,” he said. “You never specified how I was to catch the steer, just that I was to catch it.”

“Why you—That’s cheating.”

“Technically,” the reporter said, “it’s not, as I’m sure our readers will agree.”

“Your readers?”

“He’s from the Merc,” Scott said smugly. “He’s going to write about how I won my bet and got a date with you.”

“He’s what?” Amanda cried.

“Going to—”

“No, no, no,” she interrupted. “No one’s doing a story on this.”

“Actually, Ms. Johnson, I am,” said the reporter. “It’s called freedom of speech.”

It’s called freedom of speech, Amanda silently mimicked. Whelp. She ought to boot him from their land. Except it wasn’t her land, which made her feel…resigned. Outsmarted. Again. “You’ll never get near Houdini with that thing,” she pointed out.

Which turned out to be totally untrue, because Houdini was the type of quarter horse that nothing seemed to bother, including fifteen-foot-long pieces of white pipe with a lasso hanging off the end of it.

“Unbelievable,” Amanda said as Scott was handed the pole. He looked like a knight of old with a very odd looking lance. Oddly, it made her want to laugh.

“He used to be a drill-team horse,” Chase explained. “Probably thinks it’s a flag.”

And the horse probably did, but that didn’t mean Scott’s “invention” would work. Please, Lord, don’t let it, Amanda thought. She didn’t want to beg him to sell the ranch back to her. Or go on a date with him, either.

Amanda gnashed her teeth together, actually ground the enamel together so that it creaked in a satisfying way, which was about the only satisfaction she’d get, if she didn’t miss her guess.

“I can’t believe this,” she found herself muttering.

And all Scott did was smile.

“Actually, it’s a pretty ingenious idea,” Roy Johnson said as he moved closer.

Amanda whirled on her father. “Dad. I can’t believe you. He’s cheating.”

“No, he’s winning a bet. Gotta respect that.”

Amanda stared at the faces surrounding her, each of which stared back at her with various degrees of amusement, sympathy and even—in Stephanie’s case—glee. And it was then she realized she fought a losing battle.

“I’ll work the chute,” Stephanie said as Scott sorted the reins, the pole and himself atop the horse. He grimaced inspite of the painkillers he’d wolfed down earlier.

“Ready?” Stephanie asked as she put her hand on the release mechanism.

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