Just One Rodeo
Book Ten of the Billionaire Barons of Texas Series
Chapter One
“It’s time!” Claire Baron’s vet tech shouted from the hallway.
Checking on one of her post-op patients still sleeping off the anesthesia, Claire gave the sweet cattle dog a pat on the head and strolled over to the doorway. She was positive she’d cancelled all morning appointments for the emergency surgery, and couldn’t figure what the woman was shouting about. Sticking her head into the hall, she looked for her tech. “Time for what?”
“For what?” Kathy came hurrying down the hall from the front, grinning wider than a lottery winner. “The baby!”
Baby. Claire blinked and then recognition dawned. So consumed with the injured dog, she’d forgotten the entire family was on baby watch for her cousin Mitch and his wife. “How long has she been in labor?” Claire slipped out of her lab coat and quickly hung it on a nearby hook.
“Rachel didn’t tell me.”
Claire hurried down the hall to her office, Kathy right on her heels. “What about the contractions? How far apart are they?”
Kathy shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Grabbing her purse from the desk drawer, Claire leveled her gaze with Kathy. “Water broke?”
Shoulders lifted in a shrug at the same time Kathy’s hands flipped up in an I don’t know gesture.
Biting back her frustration at limited information, Claire slammed the drawer shut and smiled up at Kathy. “What exactly did Rachel say?”
“Gwyneth is in labor and your presence has been requested at the ranch ASAP.”
Her purse slung over her shoulder, Claire gave up digging for her truck keys and snapped her head up. “Me? Why me?”
“You are a trained medical professional.” Kathy shrugged again.
“Yeah, for four legged critters, not humans. I don’t do humans.”
Kathy chuckled. “Relax. It sounds like the call went out far and wide. If it makes you feel any better, Rachel mentioned that CJ was already on the way.”
That did help. A trained nurse, CJ would be way more helpful in this situation than Claire would. “Okay. I know first babies are notoriously slow, but since we have no idea if she’s been laboring for ten minutes or ten hours, I’m heading out to the ranch as summoned. When Gail comes back from lunch, tell her to cancel the remainder of my appointments for the day.”
“Will do.” Kathy nodded. “And please keep us posted.”
“Deal.” Hurrying back up the hall, she suddenly remembered her post-op patient and, stuttering to a stop, spun about. “The dog.”
Kathy waved her back around. “Go. I’ll keep an extra eye on him. Even sleep with him if I have to. Just don’t forget to call with updates.” Kathy’s hands fisted in front of her and she practically shook with excitement. “This is so much fun. We’re having a baby!”
Something told Claire that if it were Kathy having the baby, she wouldn’t use the word fun.
Pushing the pedal to the metal, Claire turned on the music and picked her favorite artist, blaring full blast. They were having a baby. The first in the family. She was so darn excited anyone would think it was Claire or one of her sisters who was about to become a mother. Gwyneth had only been a Baron for a little more than a year, but it felt like she’d always been part of the family, making this event so exciting for everyone. After all, Gwyneth wasn’t laboring at home, she was at the ranch. Mitch had insisted on having her surrounded by family and Gwyneth was all for it. Another example of how the woman had embraced being a Baron.
At the same time she’d pulled onto the property, a line of cars pulled in behind her, adding to the row of cars already parked along the curved drive. Apparently the entire clan had indeed been called.
Inside, siblings and cousins were scattered about. Some in the living room seated, others pacing, others in the kitchen making sandwiches and coffee with Hazel. The excitement was running so high that the air almost crackled with it.
“How long has she been in labor?” Claire addressed the women in the kitchen.
Hazel flipped her wrist. “We think her back ache last night was the beginning. Gwyneth woke up this morning grumbling and disinterested in breakfast. That’s when I knew.”
“When did she know?” Claire asked.
Hazel shrugged. “When I told her. We called the doula right away. She’s upstairs with the midwife.”
That’s right. Claire had almost forgotten that Gwyneth had not only wanted to labor at home, but that she had decided against the midwife’s birthing center at the hospital and wanted to have the baby in the comfort of a home. Rubbing her hands together, Claire joined the pacers in the living room. Now all she had to do was hurry up and wait.
* * * * *
Spectators filled the towering grandstands in the dusty small town arena. The scents of leather and hay mingled with the faint aroma of barbecue drifting in from the nearby concessions. For Tucker, all of it smelled like heaven. Slapping his hat on his thigh and placing it back on his head, he took a quick glance around. He didn’t have to hear the rising hum of voices to know the air was thick with anticipation for tonight’s events—he could feel it all around him like a warm blanket. Right along with an edge of excitement, just enough to have him and his best horse, Thunder, eager to nail this last event. After another long year on the circuit, if he and Sam could keep up the points for the next couple of events, they’d have what they needed to send him and Sam to the grand finals and the top prize he’d coveted all season.
Tucker glanced over at his longtime friend and partner in team roping. Sam reminded him of the stereotypical cowboy. His face rugged with weathered features, and a perpetual twinkle in his eye. The man’s easy smile belied the years of hard work and dedication he'd poured into the rodeo circuit. This would be their year. Tucker could feel it in his bones, right along side every bump and bruise. Thunder was the best damn horse a man could ask for, and Sam’s horse Rocky was a close second.
His Stetson pulled low over his brow as he surveyed the scene before them, Sam bobbed his head and sported a lazy, contented smile. "You ready to take this home?”
Tucker nodded. “More than ready. All we have to do is stay on our horses and we’re in like Flynn.”
Sam snorted a knowing chuckle, as if either of them would fall of a horse that wasn’t bucking.
Coming toward them, a man and two young boys focused on Tucker and Thunder. When they were close enough to hear the conversation over the hum of the crowds, one kid spat it’s him, and the other hollered back, is not. The bickering brothers made him smile, remembering the same one upmanship between him and his brother. In the end, the father leaned over, nodded, and must have uttered the magic words because both boys looked thoroughly reproved and appropriately contrite. As they walked by, one raised his head and his thumb. “We’re rooting for you, Tucker. You and Thunder.”
“Much obliged.” He tipped his hat to the boys. Still a bit startled whenever someone recognized him, or, like the boys, actually followed his career. The whole concept of being well known in the circuit caught him off guard every time.
As a young boy he’d followed his favorite rodeo riders and dreamed of the day he could win the buckle himself. After all, at the age of six, what boy cared about money? It was the shiny buckle that held his dreams. Some days he couldn’t believe his life had become a dream come true. At least that would be the case if the finals went as well as this season. Too many other days, he awoke with the standard aches and pains and knew his days on the circuit were numbered. This had to be his year.
He carefully watched the team in the arena do their thing. A late start here or a missed rope toss there, Tucker knew all too well how much the slightest misstep could cost in the rankings.
Mounted and ready for their turn, their hats pulled low over their brows, Tucker and Sam guided their horses into position on either side of the steer’s gate. Tucker's grip tightened on the reins, his gaze locked on the pen where the animals waited. Sam exuded calm confidence, and focused concentration as he readied his rope, set to ride like the proverbial wind.
Tucker felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins as the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeaker, signaling the start of their run. This was their moment, their chance to shine beneath the bright lights of the rodeo arena. Tucker urged Thunder forward, the powerful horse surging into action with effortless grace. The wind whipped around Tucker as they thundered across the arena, the rhythm of Thunder's hooves echoing in perfect sync with the pounding of Tucker's heart.
In the blink of an eye, they closed in on their target—a lone steer racing ahead. Focused on the task at hand, Tucker's pulse quickened, his senses sharpening with each passing second. With practiced precision, Sam expertly wielded his lasso, the rope whirling overhead before settling around the steer's horns with pinpoint accuracy. The steer kicked its rear legs, twisting around its movements tempered by the ropes that bound it.
Tucker’s breath came in exhilarated gasps as he swung his rope, the loop sailing through the air in a graceful arc before settling around the steer's hind leg. A chorus of cheers erupted from the crowd. With the steer now securely roped at both ends, Tucker and Sam exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of their synchronized skill and unwavering teamwork. Needed points secured, he bobbed his head, loosening his grip on the ropes and letting the steer hurry away. They’d done it. Their fastest time of the evening. One step closer to finals, he knew they’d make it as surely as he knew his name was Tucker John Pride.
“It’s time!” Claire Baron’s vet tech shouted from the hallway.
Checking on one of her post-op patients still sleeping off the anesthesia, Claire gave the sweet cattle dog a pat on the head and strolled over to the doorway. She was positive she’d cancelled all morning appointments for the emergency surgery, and couldn’t figure what the woman was shouting about. Sticking her head into the hall, she looked for her tech. “Time for what?”
“For what?” Kathy came hurrying down the hall from the front, grinning wider than a lottery winner. “The baby!”
Baby. Claire blinked and then recognition dawned. So consumed with the injured dog, she’d forgotten the entire family was on baby watch for her cousin Mitch and his wife. “How long has she been in labor?” Claire slipped out of her lab coat and quickly hung it on a nearby hook.
“Rachel didn’t tell me.”
Claire hurried down the hall to her office, Kathy right on her heels. “What about the contractions? How far apart are they?”
Kathy shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Grabbing her purse from the desk drawer, Claire leveled her gaze with Kathy. “Water broke?”
Shoulders lifted in a shrug at the same time Kathy’s hands flipped up in an I don’t know gesture.
Biting back her frustration at limited information, Claire slammed the drawer shut and smiled up at Kathy. “What exactly did Rachel say?”
“Gwyneth is in labor and your presence has been requested at the ranch ASAP.”
Her purse slung over her shoulder, Claire gave up digging for her truck keys and snapped her head up. “Me? Why me?”
“You are a trained medical professional.” Kathy shrugged again.
“Yeah, for four legged critters, not humans. I don’t do humans.”
Kathy chuckled. “Relax. It sounds like the call went out far and wide. If it makes you feel any better, Rachel mentioned that CJ was already on the way.”
That did help. A trained nurse, CJ would be way more helpful in this situation than Claire would. “Okay. I know first babies are notoriously slow, but since we have no idea if she’s been laboring for ten minutes or ten hours, I’m heading out to the ranch as summoned. When Gail comes back from lunch, tell her to cancel the remainder of my appointments for the day.”
“Will do.” Kathy nodded. “And please keep us posted.”
“Deal.” Hurrying back up the hall, she suddenly remembered her post-op patient and, stuttering to a stop, spun about. “The dog.”
Kathy waved her back around. “Go. I’ll keep an extra eye on him. Even sleep with him if I have to. Just don’t forget to call with updates.” Kathy’s hands fisted in front of her and she practically shook with excitement. “This is so much fun. We’re having a baby!”
Something told Claire that if it were Kathy having the baby, she wouldn’t use the word fun.
Pushing the pedal to the metal, Claire turned on the music and picked her favorite artist, blaring full blast. They were having a baby. The first in the family. She was so darn excited anyone would think it was Claire or one of her sisters who was about to become a mother. Gwyneth had only been a Baron for a little more than a year, but it felt like she’d always been part of the family, making this event so exciting for everyone. After all, Gwyneth wasn’t laboring at home, she was at the ranch. Mitch had insisted on having her surrounded by family and Gwyneth was all for it. Another example of how the woman had embraced being a Baron.
At the same time she’d pulled onto the property, a line of cars pulled in behind her, adding to the row of cars already parked along the curved drive. Apparently the entire clan had indeed been called.
Inside, siblings and cousins were scattered about. Some in the living room seated, others pacing, others in the kitchen making sandwiches and coffee with Hazel. The excitement was running so high that the air almost crackled with it.
“How long has she been in labor?” Claire addressed the women in the kitchen.
Hazel flipped her wrist. “We think her back ache last night was the beginning. Gwyneth woke up this morning grumbling and disinterested in breakfast. That’s when I knew.”
“When did she know?” Claire asked.
Hazel shrugged. “When I told her. We called the doula right away. She’s upstairs with the midwife.”
That’s right. Claire had almost forgotten that Gwyneth had not only wanted to labor at home, but that she had decided against the midwife’s birthing center at the hospital and wanted to have the baby in the comfort of a home. Rubbing her hands together, Claire joined the pacers in the living room. Now all she had to do was hurry up and wait.
* * * * *
Spectators filled the towering grandstands in the dusty small town arena. The scents of leather and hay mingled with the faint aroma of barbecue drifting in from the nearby concessions. For Tucker, all of it smelled like heaven. Slapping his hat on his thigh and placing it back on his head, he took a quick glance around. He didn’t have to hear the rising hum of voices to know the air was thick with anticipation for tonight’s events—he could feel it all around him like a warm blanket. Right along with an edge of excitement, just enough to have him and his best horse, Thunder, eager to nail this last event. After another long year on the circuit, if he and Sam could keep up the points for the next couple of events, they’d have what they needed to send him and Sam to the grand finals and the top prize he’d coveted all season.
Tucker glanced over at his longtime friend and partner in team roping. Sam reminded him of the stereotypical cowboy. His face rugged with weathered features, and a perpetual twinkle in his eye. The man’s easy smile belied the years of hard work and dedication he'd poured into the rodeo circuit. This would be their year. Tucker could feel it in his bones, right along side every bump and bruise. Thunder was the best damn horse a man could ask for, and Sam’s horse Rocky was a close second.
His Stetson pulled low over his brow as he surveyed the scene before them, Sam bobbed his head and sported a lazy, contented smile. "You ready to take this home?”
Tucker nodded. “More than ready. All we have to do is stay on our horses and we’re in like Flynn.”
Sam snorted a knowing chuckle, as if either of them would fall of a horse that wasn’t bucking.
Coming toward them, a man and two young boys focused on Tucker and Thunder. When they were close enough to hear the conversation over the hum of the crowds, one kid spat it’s him, and the other hollered back, is not. The bickering brothers made him smile, remembering the same one upmanship between him and his brother. In the end, the father leaned over, nodded, and must have uttered the magic words because both boys looked thoroughly reproved and appropriately contrite. As they walked by, one raised his head and his thumb. “We’re rooting for you, Tucker. You and Thunder.”
“Much obliged.” He tipped his hat to the boys. Still a bit startled whenever someone recognized him, or, like the boys, actually followed his career. The whole concept of being well known in the circuit caught him off guard every time.
As a young boy he’d followed his favorite rodeo riders and dreamed of the day he could win the buckle himself. After all, at the age of six, what boy cared about money? It was the shiny buckle that held his dreams. Some days he couldn’t believe his life had become a dream come true. At least that would be the case if the finals went as well as this season. Too many other days, he awoke with the standard aches and pains and knew his days on the circuit were numbered. This had to be his year.
He carefully watched the team in the arena do their thing. A late start here or a missed rope toss there, Tucker knew all too well how much the slightest misstep could cost in the rankings.
Mounted and ready for their turn, their hats pulled low over their brows, Tucker and Sam guided their horses into position on either side of the steer’s gate. Tucker's grip tightened on the reins, his gaze locked on the pen where the animals waited. Sam exuded calm confidence, and focused concentration as he readied his rope, set to ride like the proverbial wind.
Tucker felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins as the announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeaker, signaling the start of their run. This was their moment, their chance to shine beneath the bright lights of the rodeo arena. Tucker urged Thunder forward, the powerful horse surging into action with effortless grace. The wind whipped around Tucker as they thundered across the arena, the rhythm of Thunder's hooves echoing in perfect sync with the pounding of Tucker's heart.
In the blink of an eye, they closed in on their target—a lone steer racing ahead. Focused on the task at hand, Tucker's pulse quickened, his senses sharpening with each passing second. With practiced precision, Sam expertly wielded his lasso, the rope whirling overhead before settling around the steer's horns with pinpoint accuracy. The steer kicked its rear legs, twisting around its movements tempered by the ropes that bound it.
Tucker’s breath came in exhilarated gasps as he swung his rope, the loop sailing through the air in a graceful arc before settling around the steer's hind leg. A chorus of cheers erupted from the crowd. With the steer now securely roped at both ends, Tucker and Sam exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of their synchronized skill and unwavering teamwork. Needed points secured, he bobbed his head, loosening his grip on the ropes and letting the steer hurry away. They’d done it. Their fastest time of the evening. One step closer to finals, he knew they’d make it as surely as he knew his name was Tucker John Pride.