Mark: Secret Cowboy & Rancher and Protector by Pamela Britton

Author:Pamela Britton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Harlequin Military Heroes Collection
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

OKLAHOMA CITY. IT WAS one of the biggest rodeos on the circuit and Mark knew he needed to concentrate.

But he couldn’t get her off his frickin’ mind.

“Mark, you’re doing it again,” Janie said.

They were outside the Jim Norick State Fair Arena, in an adjoining equestrian complex where the cowboys competing in the timed events were warming up. The place was huge and Mark was feeling way out of his depth. It was his first time at the Oklahoma State Fairgrounds—and the first time in his career where he’d been high enough in the world standings to enter such a competitive event.

Everything—everything—hinged on his ride in a couple hours.

“Doing what?” he asked, trying to keep his head down so his little sister couldn’t look in his eyes.

“Zoning out on me.”

They stood alongside one of the pipe-panel rails, near where team ropers were swinging their lassos with rhythmic woosh-woosh-woosh that sang through the air. Mark watched them absently. Or maybe not so absently, because he’d spotted one of the Cody brothers riding around in there.

One of his half brothers.

“You’re watching Dusty, aren’t you?” Janie asked.

Mark shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking.

“Is it hard being around them now?” she pressed.

He should have insisted Janie stay home, but there’d been no keeping her from this rodeo. She hadn’t brought her horse to ride—the competition was too stiff for her to waste her money on entry fees—but she blended in with the crowd in her black cowboy hat and turquoise shirt.

“Not really,” Mark said, watching as Dusty swung his rope, the animal he rode a prime example of what a quarter horse should be. It wore the famous Cottonwood Ranch brand, but it wasn’t a patch of bare skin like traditional brands. The Codys applied freeze brands; using cold instead of heat to mark their animals. Mark could see the CR on the horse’s right shoulder perfectly.

“Mark, it’s okay to be angry. No one blames you for that.”

“I’m not angry,” he said. “I told you. I don’t feel anything.”

Except for Nicki. No matter how many times he told himself not to, he kept looking for her.

“Is it Nicki then?”

“Enough,” he said quickly. “Stop hounding me.” He turned away from the rail pulled his hat down low. “I’m going to go get my rigging bag out of the truck.”

“Is it time?” Janie asked, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. She glanced at her watch and Mark knew what she’d see. It wasn’t time. He had at least another hour before he was due to ride.

“No, but I want to get a good spot.”

The bull riders had been given a room to set up in, one that probably doubled as dressing quarters for rock stars during concerts. It was on the main floor, and Mark had no idea if it’d be crowded in there or not.

Janie’s eyes narrowed. She recognized his response for the excuse it was.

“Okay. I guess I’ll head on up to the grandstands.”

Mark didn’t comment, just said, “See you after.”

“Mark, wait,” she said, tugging on his hand and turning him back.

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