It was true. Rowdy might not have known he’d gotten involved with a married woman, but then he hadn’t really asked enough questions, and he sure hadn’t been any kind of role model. After this last fiasco, God had convinced him that he needed to change his life.
“You’re doing it, too. What you need is to find a woman like Jolie, who has her priorities straight,” Morgan added.
“True, but I’m not ready right now. And besides, if Lucy won’t let me help knock out some walls, she’s most definitely not going to say yes to dinner and a movie.”
“True,” Morgan agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Speaking of dates, Tucker’s here helping out with practice because I’ve got a date. And Jolie is a whole lot prettier than you.”
“Tell that beautiful lady of yours I said hello,” he called, then headed into the stable. He breathed in and the scents of fresh hay and leather filled him. Horses nickered as he passed by.
He grabbed a saddle and entered the stall of the black quarter horse he was working with. He spoke gently to Maverick as he saddled him. Just the motions of preparing to ride calmed him and helped him think.
Lucy said she had anger issues. It didn’t fit, but she’d said it. He hadn’t seen anger, though. When their eyes locked, he saw fireworks. And there lay the problem.
He had a fondness for fireworks—even though the fondness had gotten him into more trouble than he needed. Thus the reason he was trying to mend his ways.
Fireworks burned—he’d learned that the hard way.
Leading Maverick out of the stable, he headed toward the corral and the sound of whoops of laughter. His behavior hadn’t been anything to be proud of and certainly nothing for these boys to look up to. Rowdy was changing that. No one had said it would be easy.
And living his lifestyle down was going to be the hardest of all, he suspected. The boys’ laughter rose on the breeze out in the arena as he approached. This was what he needed to concentrate on. These boys and the ranch.
“What’s up, Rowdy? Thought you’d skipped out on us.” Eighteen years old, Wes gave him his wolfish smile as he rode his horse over to the arena fence.
“Nope, just running late.” Rowdy hooked his arms on the top rail and surveyed the action. “Did I miss much?”
“There was a runaway wagon a few minutes ago when Caleb lost his grip on the reins and the horses took over.” Wes chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He was one of the natural leaders of the group. Stocky and blond, he always looked as though he was ready to have a good time. Too good. He had a recklessness about him that reminded Rowdy of himself. All the more reason for Rowdy to make a good impression on the teen.
Rowdy had a suspicion Wes had been sneaking around riding bulls behind everyone’s back. Bulls were the one rodeo event that was off-limits for the ranch kids to participate in. And purely Rowdy’s fault from when he’d been a teen. Because of his many close calls with bull riding, his dad had set the rule—no bull riding at Sunrise Ranch.
“By the glint in your eyes, I’m assuming it was pretty entertaining.”
“It was awesome.” Wes hooted. “I never knew your brother could ride like that. Tucker did some pony tricks getting the horses to stop.”
The sheriff of Dew Drop, Tucker didn’t spend as much time on the ranch with the boys as Rowdy, Morgan and their dad, Randolph. But when it came to riding, Tucker could hold his own.