Circle R Ranch Trilogy

Tamara Hoffa

Erotic Romance

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Erotic Romance

Roping Love

Copyright © 2013 Tamara Hoffa

First E-book Publication: April 2013

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by Ariana Gaynor

Proofread by Renee Waring

All cover art and logo copyright ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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Dedication

To my two greatest Cheerleaders. My darling husband, Michael Hoffa, and my mother, Nedra Wilkinson. You both lift me up when I am down, push me to always do better, and aren’t afraid to smack my bottom when I need it. Thank You. For the real life Aunt Sissy, daughter of my heart, Ashlie Beavers. And for the Bloombergs, who inspired the names in Roping Love, Chuck, Carol, Carrie, Cathy, Cheryl and Christie. I love you all. 

ROPING LOVE

Tamara Hoffa

Chapter One

Carrie was fixing her morning coffee when she heard the screen door squeak as it was opened and slammed shut. She turned to face her ten-year-old nephew and struggled to hide her smile. Tyler, how many times do I have to tell you not to slam the screen door? If you break it you're fixin' it.

Tyler had the good grace to look properly chastised. Sorry, Aunt Sissy. But I was in a hurry.

Oh, really? And why is that?

I gotta ask you a question, and it's really important.

Carrie glanced over his head to see her sister, Cathy, contemplating the floor. Oh, damn. What were the two of them cooking up? Cathy refused to meet her eyes, so she knew it was something she wasn't going to like. Taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze back to Tyler.

Okay, well let's hear it.

Tyler was grinning from ear to ear. 

Mom and Dad said I could go to Congress and see the roping and the cutting events, if you would take me. I really want to go Aunt Sissy. Could we, please! I'll be so good, I promise.

Carrie Stewart had been out of the horse show circuit for over ten years. A champion, elite of the elite, youth Champion in both Showmanship and Western Pleasure. She had traveled all over the country, going from one circuit to another. It had been fun and exciting for a while. 

But, the constant backbiting and politics of the show circuit had soured her on the whole deal. 

That and, of course, the sexiest cowboy alive, who had broken her heart.

Now Carrie was content to stay behind the scenes and run her small breeding program and ride for pleasure only. She still had Hercules, the gelding she had won so many trophies with, but he was ancient now, twenty-two years old, his muzzle full of gray, but unlike that damn rodeo Romeo, Hercules was still the love of her life. With her few brood mares and prize stallion, Prince Charming, a gorgeous sixteen hand palomino, the program was growing nicely. The All American Quarter Horse Congress was next month. 

Everyone knew that Aunt Sissy was an easy mark for her nephews. Telling them no, seemed to be beyond her ability. Cathy was playing dirty pool, getting Tyler to ask her. Congress was about the last place on earth she wanted to be, but...

Hmm, I don't know Tyler. I have a lot of work to do. We'd be gone for over a week. Who's going to take care of my horses for me? Carrie asked, with a pointed look at her sister.

You know Jack and I will be happy to take care of things while you’re gone, replied Cathy, a little too enthusiastically.

What about school? Can Tyler take a week off without getting in trouble? Carrie asked.

"I've already checked with the school. Tyler can get all his work before y’all leave and he will make sure to have it all completed by the time you come home. Right?" She directed a look Tyler's way.

Yes, ma’am. I promise. Tyler made an x over his heart.

Carrie looked into his hopeful eyes and knew denying him would be impossible. Oh well, hitting the auction while she was there might find her a couple more good mares. That was the excuse she gave herself anyway. And Congress was a lot of fun. They’d have a good time and now dealing with the pressure of competing wouldn’t be an issue. But, she would still have to deal with all the show people and what if he was there? Chance, the cowboy who had broken her heart was a roper. Well, he had been anyway. Carrie hadn’t kept up with the rodeo circuit. Maybe he wasn’t riding anymore. Oh, hell, there would be thousands of people there, what were the chances she’d run into Chance? Was it worth disappointing Tyler? No, Stewart’s were made of stronger stuff than that. 

If she saw him, so what? It wasn’t as if he’d branded her for life with his touch. No it was way over and done. They would go to Congress and have a blast. No if ands or buts about it.  "Okay, you talked me into it. But, you better not make me regret this Tyler. You'll owe me.

I think I see some stalls that need mucking with your name on them"

* * * *

October fourth arrived sooner than flies on horseshit and Carrie was busily packing up her Trailblazer for the four-hundred mile trip to Columbus. Hauling only the two-horse trailer, because her budget didn’t allow for the purchase of more than two new mares, it would be an easy drive. Hopefully luck would be on her side and bidding would allow her to get at least one good mare with the funds she had. The auction catalog showcased at least three viable prospects for her breeding program. One she would kill to get her hands on, a palomino mare, if only the price was right. The other two were a nice sorrel mare with good bloodlines, and a little bay filly. But, she really wanted that palomino mare. Wanted her bad.

Closing the hatchback on the last suitcase, Carrie climbed into the driver’s seat and headed for the barn, to say goodbye to her babies.

The twelve-stall stable, with the attached riding arena was her favorite place. She had her stables set up perfectly. Automatic waterers graced every stall. The center aisle was wide and clean, with crossties set up at ten-foot intervals. The eight stalls on the left had access doors both to the aisle and to the turn out pens beside the barn. The four stalls on the right were her birthing stalls, double the size of a regular stall, so momma and baby had plenty of room. The riding arena sat beyond the center aisle, with only a three bar metal swing gate separating it from the barn. The tack room-office and the feed storage room lay across from each other, just as you stepped through the big double doors at the entrance. Carrie spent so much time here in the stable, that her office was designed for comfort as well as practicality. A beautiful oak desk, shelf units housing her many trophies, and a comfortable couch, graced the room. She had slept on that couch more than once while waiting for a mare to foal. Topping it all off was state of the art surveillance equipment to keep an eye on her prize horses.

Carrie smiled as she stepped into the barn and was greeted by the whinnies and whickers of her beloved horses. Prince Charming stretched his head over the stall door and wiggled his lips at her. He was such a character. Reaching into the pocket of her jeans and pulling out a mint hard candy and crinkling the wrapper made Charm’s ears perked up. He tossed his head, demanding her attention and his candy. She spoiled him so, but couldn’t help it. The big baby owned her heart. She unwrapped the candy and placed it on her palm in front of Charm’s muzzle. He softly lipped the mint from her palm. It always amazed her how gentle the stallion was with her. Reaching up and scratching the star on his forehead, earned her an affectionate head butt in the shoulder. Moving down the line of stalls, she gave each horse a little special attention and talked to them as she made her way to Hercules’ stall. She unlatched the stall door and stepped inside, latching the door behind her. Hello baby, she whispered running a hand down his neck. He came toward her, placing his head over her shoulder and squeezing it between his neck and head, a horse version of a hug. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him back. 

A beautiful sorrel gelding, Hercules was a Quarter Horse-Thoroughbred mix, and had the height of his Thoroughbred side with the broad chest and heavier muscle tone of a Quarter horse. He was twenty-two years old now, and sported a lot of gray on his muzzle, but he still had a fire in his soul and loved to go for long trail rides through the countryside.

"I’m gonna be gone for a few days baby, but Aunt Cathy will come and take care of you.

And if we’re lucky I’ll be bringing you home a new playmate."

With one last pat on the neck, she exited the stall and headed back to the truck. It was going on half-past two and she still needed to go by Cathy’s, pick up Tyler’s suitcase, then pick him up from school and then start the six-hour drive to Ohio.

Thankfully the long drive was uneventful. Tyler had his iPod to keep him occupied. Traffic wasn’t bad, and they arrived at their hotel by ten o’clock. The moment they arrived it was as if someone had given Tyler a double espresso with an extra shot. The boy and his mouth couldn’t seem to stop moving.

What time do the events start tomorrow? Tyler asked

Depends on what you want to go watch. The calf roping starts in the Celeste Center at eight in the morning, the open cutting is in the Coliseum starting at nine. Events are running at the same time most days, so you’re going to have to pick and choose what you want to watch. We won’t be able to see everything.

That sucks.

Tyler John Leighton, you better watch your mouth!

Sorry, Aunt Sissy, but it stinks. I want to see all the roping and cutting, why do they have to happen at the same time? 

That’s just the way it is little man. There will be close to twenty thousand horses competing in the shows. It would take forever if they didn’t hold classes simultaneously. But, we can watch a little of one competition and then move to another arena and watch something else. I promise you’ll get to see everything you want to. I’ve got a copy of the show schedules in my laptop bag. Why don’t you get it and we’ll sit down and map out our plan of attack?

He flipped open the paper schedule and perused it. Okay, tomorrow there is team cutting, calf roping, and open team roping

Oh, let’s go to the calf roping, I want to see that, and then maybe the team roping.

That’s the plan then. It’s almost eleven o’clock Tyler, if you want breakfast before we head to the show grounds we’re going to have to be up at six. Better get some sleep. You don’t want to fall asleep in the stands.

Oh, no way! Can we have pancakes for breakfast?

I think that could be arranged. I saw a pancake place on our way to the motel from the interstate. We can do it, but only if you get up and ready with no hassles in the morning.

I will, I promise.

Okay then. Get your PJs on and brush your teeth. Chop, chop

* * * *

They arrived at the Celeste Center fifteen minutes before the calf roping was due to start. Show start times were approximate and usually ran late, but Congress was a different bird. It ran like a well-oiled machine, this wasn’t amateur hour. If you didn’t want to get run over, you better be where you were supposed to be, on time and ready to ride.

It had been ten years since Carrie was last at Congress. She was a competitor then. She’d almost forgotten how exciting it all was, so many people, so many beautiful animals, adrenaline running high, and everyone hoping for the performance of a lifetime. On the AQHA circuit, the All American Quarter Horse Congress was the star. Winning here meant fame, acclaim and in many cases money, if not from the win itself, then from the increase in your horse’s worth, especially for stallions and mares, where their show history dictated their stud fees and foal prices.

They watched the calf roping from a good spot in the center of the stands through the first two eliminations, Tyler talking non-stop through it all. It was amazing how much her nephew knew about the sport for only being ten years old. He was enthralled and obviously having a ball.

Around lunchtime they headed to the exhibition building. The trade show didn’t start for a few more days, but there were already plenty of vendors set up to sell their wares. You could buy anything you wanted for a horse or rider at these big shows—saddles, bridles, blankets, hats, boots, jeans, belts, and the jewelry. It always amazed Carrie how much jewelry was available at these things, everything from one of a kind, handcrafted pieces, to mass-produced costume jewelry. If racing was the sport of kings then the AQHA was the sport of queens. 

The people here had money and loved to spend it.

They found a hot dog stand, grabbed a couple footlongs and strolled through the displays.

Before we head over to the Coliseum for the roping, I need to check out the auction barn,

Carrie told Tyler. There are a couple mares I want to check out. Okay?

Yeah, that’s cool.

Damn, she really hoped the mares she’d spotted in the catalog looked as good as they sounded.

After checking the map and locating the barn they needed, they made the long trek across the grounds to Barn H. Horses up for sale in auction were housed in this area with their information sheets tacked to the stall doors.

Some of the owners were milling about to answer questions or groom their horses. Carrie walked down the center aisle and scrutinized the information sheets in search of the horses she wanted to see.

About halfway down the aisle she spotted the palomino mare. As she stepped up to the stall door the two men inside turned at her approach. Her heart stopped in her chest. It couldn’t be— God couldn’t be that cruel to her. She blinked, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her, but no they weren’t, staring back at her was Chance Ryan. 

12 Tamara Hoffa

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The man who had broken her heart ten years ago.

Chapter Two

She closed her eyes and all the memories came rushing back to her...

It had been the best summer of her life. She had turned eighteen that April. Her last year on the youth circuit, and Carrie was determined to go out a champion. She and Chance had started dating in May. They were both following the same circuit and it was wonderful.

Carrie had dated before, but never anyone special or long term. But, Chance was special.

They did everything together. If they weren’t in the arena showing, they were together. 

They rode together. They groomed and bathed their horses together. They went out for pizza, or just hung out in her trailer watching movies.

Handsome, tall and thin, with wavy blond hair and the bluest eyes, when Chance looked at her, he made her feel like she was the only girl in the world.

The fourth of July they were in Indiana, at the State Fair. They’d had a day off from showing and had spent it riding rides and eating junk food. Now they were lying on a blanket under the stars in a cornfield, watching the fireworks burst overhead. They were barefoot, their boots tossed to the side of the blanket. Chance rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand, looking down into her face, he brought his free hand to her cheek and caressed it. 

Then leaned in for a kiss. It started with a gentle brush of his lips against hers, sweet and gentle. Then his tongue licked against the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, she opened for him, sucking his tongue into her mouth. 

The pressure of his lips increased. His tongue delved deep, devouring her mouth, like he wanted to devour her body. His hand slid up her side, slipping under her T-shirt and reaching for her breast. He teased the edge of her simple white bra, sliding his fingers back and forth along the curve of her breast, before pushing the cup down and freeing her breast to his touch. Chance cupped her in his hand and she couldn’t breathe. The brush of his fingers against her taught nipple made her shiver. Chance rolled her onto her back, coming over her, one jean clad leg stealing into the vee of her thighs. Carrie’s arms crept around his back, under his shirt, and slid up over his strong shoulders, stroking the soft hair curling at the nape of his neck. He gentled the kiss again. Drew back and reached for the hem of her shirt, as she rose up slightly and lifted her arms to let him remove it. Almost as if on autopilot, her hands went to the snaps on his shirt and pulled them open. Tossing their shirts to the side and settling back over her, his mouth kissing a path from her lips down her jaw to the sweet spot just behind her ear that made her gasp and goose bumps break out across her skin. He continued his downward path until his lips grazed her nipple, he licked a circle around the engorged bud then drew it into his mouth to suckle gently. Carrie arched her back, seeking something, not quite sure what. Pressing his knee into the juncture of her thighs and making her squirm in pleasure, his hands and mouth continued to assault her breasts. Somehow her bra was now gone too, though she couldn’t tell you when or how it had disappeared. 

Chance’s mouth returned to her lips, kissing her long and deeply. Then his hand slid down her belly to the snap of her jeans. 

"Let me