The Comeback Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid

for trying anything. You should be, too, if you want to win that championship.”

      Ty tamped down his rising annoyance. It had been a long time since anyone had lectured him. A long time since he’d felt he deserved a lecture.

      A quick glance at Adele confirmed yet another talking-to might be in store for him. She looked about as happy with him as his sister sounded.

      “This isn’t easy for me, Dana.” The admission came with an uncomfortable tightening in his gut.

      “I know, honey. But I’m one of the people who has your back, remember?”

      “And I appreciate it.”

      “You couldn’t have two better experts there.”

      “I agree with you about Pop Donnelly. And I wouldn’t mind half so much if he was teaching the class.”

      “What’s wrong with Adele Donnelly?”

      There was nothing wrong with her that Ty could see. It was his ego having the problem. Granted, he’d asked for her help yesterday, but that was in a weak moment. This morning, when he’d faced himself in the bathroom mirror, he wished he’d asked Pop for help instead.

      It wasn’t too late. He’d get through this one class and seek out the older man. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like so much of a loser. Or have an entire group of people witnessing his shame.

      “You practice with a woman roper,” Dana prompted.

      “It’s different with you.”

      “Because I’m not competing against you in the same sport?”

      “Yikes.” Ty grimaced. “That smarts.”

      “Give Adele a chance before you hightail it out of there.”

      How did his sister know he’d been contemplating leaving? “Fine. I promise to stay another couple days.”

      “You said a month.” Her tone dared him to defy her.

      “Okay, okay. You win.”

      “Call me if you need anything.”

      “I will.” They disconnected after saying goodbye.

      Ty silenced his cell phone and walked Hamm over to the group, smiling apologetically to his classmates and Adele, who blatantly ignored him. All right, he deserved that. Leaning forward and propping a forearm on the saddle horn, he made an effort to really listen to her. After several minutes passed, he had to agree she knew her stuff. She certainly had the attention of all the students.

      “Are we ready to try? Who wants to go first?”

      Hands shot into the air, none of them Ty’s.

      “All right, how about you, Mike?” She picked the husband of the woman Ty’d been talking to earlier.

      He sat quietly on Hamm, watching Mike and the others take their turns one by one. He easily and quickly spotted the errors with each student. Adele did, too, and patiently explained it to them in laymen’s terms the students could comprehend. When everyone had done it, Adele’s gaze landed on him.

      “You’re up next, Ty.”

      He moved into position behind the bale of hay. Hamm pawed the ground, far more eager to get started than his owner.

      “Wait. We’re going to do this a little differently with you. Put up your rope.”

      “My rope?”

      “Then drop your reins and kick your feet out of the stirrups.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “No hands, no legs.”

      “Why?” he asked.

      “You don’t think you can stay seated?” Her green eyes flashed up at him.

      He attached his lasso to his saddle with the rope strap. “Ma’am, I can break a green horse riding bareback and with one hand tied behind my back.”

      “Then this should be a cakewalk for you.” She stepped away from him.

      With a shrug of his shoulders, his hands resting on his thighs and his legs dangling, he waited for the wrangler to take off on the ATV.

      “One more thing,” Adele said, the lowered brim of her cowboy hat partially hiding her face. “You have to do it with your eyes closed.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Eyes closed, Mr. Boudeau.”

      Was she smiling?

      Ty decided to go along with her rather than put up a fight. He’d promised Dana, and besides, the students might learn something from watching him.

      “Go!” he told the wrangler.

      Hamm took off after the bale of hay as if it were the real thing. Because the wrangler didn’t drive the ATV very fast, Hamm’s gait was an easy lope rather than a full-out gallop, as it would be in the arena.

      Ty set down deep in the saddle, adjusting himself to the horse’s rhythm. Trying to, he amended. It wasn’t as easy as he might have guessed. Not with his eyes closed and his legs dangling. As the driver zigzagged, mimicking the course a calf might take, Ty felt—really felt—the nuances of Hamm’s muscles bunching and releasing when he changed directions. Ty shifted accordingly, to compensate for the horse’s movements, thinking about it rather than doing it instinctively as he should.

      After thirty feet, the wrangler slowed to a stop. Hamm also slowed. Opening his eyes, Ty used the pressure of his legs to guide his horse in a circle and back toward the group. Once there, he stopped and rubbed his neck, contemplating what had just happened.

      “You look perplexed,” Adele said, studying him.

      “Not that so much,” he answered.

      She’d put him through a very basic exercise, one, he realized in hindsight, he should have tried himself. Perhaps if he had, the results wouldn’t be quite so startling.

      Ty trusted himself as a rider. What he’d learned today was that he didn’t trust Hamm. Not entirely and not enough. His other horse’s accident had robbed Ty of that vital component to a successful rider-horse partnership, and the tiny fear that it would happen again was causing him to hold back.

      “Ty?” Adele asked.

      He grinned suddenly and waved to the wrangler to come back around.

      “I want to go again.”

      “HEY, ADELE, hold on a minute.”

      Hearing her name, she stopped and turned to see Ty hurrying after her. Uh-oh. He was probably annoyed at her for what she’d pulled on him during class earlier. Squaring her shoulders, she waited for him to catch up, committed to defending her actions.

      “Can I help you with something?” She smiled, pretending she didn’t notice the Ben Affleck–like perfection of Ty’s strong, dimpled chin or the fluttering in her middle that ogling his chin caused. “Perhaps a copy of the rules and regulations you obviously lost.”

      “I guess I deserve that.” He returned her smile with a healthy dose of chagrin. “No more phone calls. You have my word.”

      She was glad to see he didn’t take offense at her more-serious-than-humorous jest. Rules were rules, in place for a reason, and Ty Boudeau didn’t get to break them just because he was a professional roper.

      “You’re allowed one mistake before we start giving demerits. Ten demerits, however, and you’re kicked off the ranch.”

      His startled expression was so comical, she almost laughed. “I’m joking.”

      The hint of a twinkle lit his eyes. “You’re good, you know.”

      “I’ve had a lot of practice keeping unruly students