Free Love Somebody Like You by Susan Fox Page B

she’d adjusted over a period of a couple of years and rediscovered her joy in life. She’d even started dating.
    Sally’d been crazy in love with Pete, but she had been widowed for three years. Maybe she wasn’t ready for sex with another guy—though Ben could always hope—but that was no reason she shouldn’t lighten up and have some fun. With someone other than her chickens. With a guy she could trust, who would never do anything to hurt her.
    â€œThat’s me,” he told Chaunce as he bent to gather the reins. “Now how can I make her believe it?” He mounted, using a stump as a mounting block and hating the awkwardness of his banged-up shoulder. Yeah, he could mount bareback from the ground, one-armed, but it would jar his shoulder. Much as it pissed him off, he had to be sensible.
    â€œSensible,” he said. “A sensible rodeo rider. Isn’t that what they call an oxymoron?”
    Chaunce snorted and tossed his head.
    It was nearing noon, so Ben headed back to Ryland Riding. It wasn’t a surprise to see Sally in the ring with a student. He remembered the schedule saying: “Amanda: lesson.” The girl looked to be about twelve. He raised a hand in greeting to Sally, who stood in the middle of the ring as her student trotted a little bay mare in a circle. The mom sat in the bleachers, body slanted forward, all her attention on her daughter.
    Halting Chaunce, Ben watched for a few minutes and realized that Amanda had a prosthetic leg. He read signs of pain and frustration in her squinched-up brow and tight mouth. Her body language made him think she’d lost the leg fairly recently and was still figuring out how to deal with her new reality. He’d seen rodeo competitors go through the same process after a major injury. Most cowboyed up, handling it with the same guts they’d shown when competing, but a few let catastrophe defeat them. This kid was a gutsy one, it was clear to see.
    Giving the girl some privacy, he dismounted and led Chaunce away.
    Working at half his normal speed, he took off his horse’s bridle and groomed him, then let him out in the paddock. When Ben returned to the barnyard, Sally was saying good-bye to her student and the mom. Rather than help her with the horse, a task she could do faster than he, he decided to make lunch for both of them.
    In the tiny kitchen of his trailer, he clumsily chopped onions and mushrooms and got them sautéeing, then he grated cheddar and jack cheeses. He whipped up those pretty eggs of hers, along with a splash of milk and some seasonings, and pretty soon he had an omelet cooking.
    A glance out the window showed him that Sally stood outside the barn door, staring toward his trailer, looking puzzled. Probably wondering where her helper had gone.

Chapter Five
    Sally stared at Ben’s trailer. He’d put Chauncey’s Pride in the paddock, rather than loading him into the trailer. Shouldn’t he get on the road? If he interspersed driving with rest stops for himself and his horse, he could cover a fair number of miles today.
    She walked toward the trailer, intending to inquire about his plans and say a final good-bye. And if the thought of saying farewell gave her a pang of sorrow, that was only because it had been fun catching up with an old rodeo friend, not to mention having a helping hand. Hand , singular. But Ben was right that he, even single-handed, was pretty darned impressive. Remembering his flirtatious comment yesterday, she imagined that callused palm caressing her shoulder as surely, as softly, as he stroked his horse.
    But big, strong hands weren’t always gentle. Men who seemed sweet, even romantic and loving, could turn mean with the slightest provocation.
    Ben appeared in the open door of the trailer and, as if in answer to her unspoken question, said, “Lunchtime.”
    All right, he planned to eat before leaving. She needed to grab a snack, too. Her