Lone Star Refuge by Mae Nunn

Author:Mae Nunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

IF YOU’D ASKED Joiner Temple before he’d come home whether he’d have ever dressed up in a bunny costume, hop around hiding plastic eggs and pose for pictures all day long with sugar-crazed kids, he would have said there’s no way in Hades. But that was before Stella Scout came into his life. And that’s exactly what he did on the Saturday before Easter at Star Stables.

Clint Cavender, who’d hired a bouncy house as well as lemonade, popcorn and cotton candy vendors to provide free refreshments for everyone, got to dress in his usual mode of designer cowboy. Buster presided over the petting zoo in clean overalls and a new pastel T-shirt. Stella looked her usual Sundance catalog model self, and Jacob Hunnicutt was as professional as always. Daune Holzman was the only other one who sported an Easter-themed costume. She’d come dressed in a yellow chicken costume that made her look like a giant marshmallow Peeps.

Meant as a fun day for clients and their families as well as an advertisement for the riding school, the event was a smashing success. Cade, Adelaide and Sophia were there, as well as most of the other regulars. They were joined by a host of people from the community who came to see what hippotherapy was all about.

“After this day, I’m going to be really ready for bronc riding next week,” Joiner whispered in Buster’s ear as he hopped by a group of children who were in line to pet Minnie and Violet. “I’ve got to get my man-card back somehow.”

“A bronco bustin’ bunny is something I have to see,” Buster growled back through his perma-smiling lips. “That should be somethin’ else.”

* * *

ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT he got his chance. Stella refused to speak to him about it, as it contradicted everything she was trying to accomplish at her school, but Buster was chomping at the bit. He had been ever since he first got the call.

One of his old rodeo friends had asked him a while back to give him some tips on busting broncos. Now, it seemed, his buddy’s setup was finally ready. Buster didn’t really know the extent of it and he didn’t have to. His friend had had him at the word bronc.

And Joiner’s interest had only fueled Buster’s fire. So he went with the older man to visit Alex Hickey, and Stella stayed home to worry.

Alex met them at his newly constructed arena, equipped with chutes for bulls and broncos. He was a wiry fellow with greased-back black hair under a tall, tan Stetson. Joiner supposed the tallness of the hat was intended to make up for the shortness of the man, who he estimated to be about five feet eight inches.

Alex embraced Buster heartily.

“This is Joiner Temple,” Buster told him. “He’s kind of my ranch hand.”

“Well, hi, Mister Kind-of-Buster’s-Ranch-Hand.” Alex slapped his shoulder. “You any kin to the other Temples around Kilgore?”

“Yes, sir. I am.” His answer just kind of hung there in the air, so Joiner left it at that.

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