Arizona Cowboy
Rachel Lewis is a bona fide city slicker.Still, when her estranged father asks for her help, she ends up in dusty Stagecoach, Arizona, to manage his rodeo company for the summer. Being clueless about rough stock is nothing, though, compared to the confused feelings Rachel has for sexy ranch foreman Clint McGraw…because he's also her main competitor for her father's affections.Clint can hardly believe it when his boss hands over the reins to his long-gone daughter. What the heck does a spoiled city girl like Rachel know about rodeo? Why, she's crazy enough to offer a competition event to women bull riders! And for sure she's going to nudge her way back into her father's heart—leaving Clint high and dry.Even so, he can't help falling hard for Rachel. But only one of them can be the head honcho of this round-up!
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Last Cowboy—Or Cowgirl!—Standing…
Rachel Lewis is a bona fide city slicker. Still, when her estranged father asks for her help, she ends up in dusty Stagecoach, Arizona, to manage his rodeo company for the summer. Being clueless about rough stock is nothing, though, compared to the confused feelings Rachel has for sexy ranch foreman Clint McGraw…because he’s also her main competitor for her father’s affections.
Clint can hardly believe it when his boss hands over the reins to his long-gone daughter. What the heck does a spoiled city girl like Rachel know about rodeo? Why, she’s crazy enough to offer a competition event to women bull riders! And for sure she’s going to nudge her way back into her father’s heart—leaving Clint high and dry. Even so, he can’t help falling hard for Rachel.
But only one of them can be the head honcho of this round-up!
“Is that why you agreed to help your father this summer—so you two could mend your fences?”
“Yes.” A soft sigh escaped her. “But that was when I believed I was his only child.”
“You are his only child.”
“You might not be his son by birth, but it’s obvious he cares more about you than me.”
The truth was painful.
Rachel stepped past Clint, but he grasped her hand. His warm, callused fingers entwined with hers, sending shivers racing along her arm.
“This isn’t a competition between us,” he said.
Who was Clint kidding? They’d have to wait until the end of the summer to see which one of them came out on top in her father’s eyes.
Dear Reader,
While writing my cowboy books for Harlequin American Romance, I occasionally stumble across information about women’s rough-stock events, but usually never pay much attention to the details. After all, the average American woman has little in common with a female bull rider—right? Wrong. On a whim I began to research these courageous, spirited cowgirls and realized they’re more like you and me than I’d first believed. Whether women work in education, health care, business, are stay-at-home moms raising children or even romance writers, women face obstacles in the workplace and at home that most men don’t. Each and every day, women fight for recognition, respect, equal pay and equal benefits. When women fail, they pick themselves up, dust off their Wranglers and return for another go-round the next day.
I can’t think of a better example of bravery, dedication and resilience than a cowgirl who competes in rough-stock events. I hope you find inspiration from these courageous women and enjoy the wild world of rodeo!
For more information on my books and my Rodeo Rebels series for Harlequin American Romance, visit my website, www.marinthomas.com.
Happy reading!
Marin
To all the cowgirls who dare to dream big!
Contents
Chapter One
Stagecoach 10 Miles
Rachel Lewis strangled the steering wheel Sunday afternoon as she sped along the deserted Arizona highway southeast of Yuma. Although she’d been born in this desolate wasteland, the bone-dry landscape remained unfamiliar to her. The car’s thermometer displayed 100—it was only June seventh. After living two decades in Rhode Island, temps over eighty degrees constituted sweltering.
How did people survive this heat? Better yet…how would she handle three months of hundred-degree-plus temperatures on her father’s ranch?
You’re almost there. Eight hours in her car and the wavy heat lines hovering above the baking asphalt threatened to mesmerize Rachel. She gulped several swallows from her water bottle. Her concentration restored, she searched for a large rock, a mountain peak, a saguaro with too many arms—anything that might help her recall the first few years of her life in Hell’s backyard. Nothing. She felt like a tourist in a foreign land.
When Rachel was five years old, her mother had died in a horse accident and her father had shipped Rachel east to live with her aunt. Twenty-two years later she was returning to her birthplace—not because she wanted to but because her father had asked her to.
The speedometer nudged eighty and she eased her foot off the accelerator. Thoughts of P. T. Lewis sent her blood pressure soaring. A week before the public schools in Rhode Island had dismissed for the summer Rachel had learned her father had been diagnosed with prostate cancer and would be undergoing three months of treatment at a medical center in Phoenix. Before she’d uttered a single word of sympathy, he’d asked her to return to Stagecoach to run his rodeo-production company.
The phone call had been the first time her father had reached out to her since her mother’s death and the hurt, abandoned little girl in Rachel had yearned to shout, “No!”
But Rachel wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman with a successful career as a high school psychologist and athletic trainer. On a daily basis she dealt with teenagers who struggled with anger-management issues, eating disorders, physical disabilities and social adjustment problems. Too bad her background in psychology did nothing to ease the anger and hurt that had festered inside her the past twenty-two years. Her immature reaction to her father’s request had triggered a bout of serious soul-searching.
