Read Online How to Handle a Cowboy by Joanne Kennedy - Free Book Online

to spill over and burn everything in its path. “Plan A was to win a championship by the time I was thirty. I did that. Next, I was aiming for the all-around title. That was the only plan.”
    â€œWell, it’s not going to happen.” Shane strode to the sink and began rinsing dirty dishes and slotting them into the dishwasher. “Every rodeo cowboy needs a plan B. You get hurt, you get old—you can’t do it all your life, you know? But for you, it’s always been the one thing. You’re a single-minded son of a bitch.”
    â€œThat’s what it takes,” Ridge said. “If you want to win, you’ve got to give it all you’ve got, and damn the consequences. You can’t think about losing when you need to stick on the back of a bull. You can’t think about failing when the calf shoots out of the gate and you need your rope right there, right…”
    He’d been gesturing subconsciously while he spoke, and now he raised his hand as if throwing a loop—but the hand wouldn’t cooperate. He was just flailing at the air.
    He dropped the hand in his lap and it lay there motionless. Human roadkill.
    â€œHaving a plan B means that deep down, you believe you might not win,” he said. “And that kind of belief makes it impossible to be the best. I’ve been shooting for the top of the standings since I was fourteen. Never thought I’d need another plan.”
    Rage rose in his throat and harsh words tumbled out. “Who are you to talk about plans, anyway?” He jabbed a finger at Shane. “Was it your plan to have a kid before you graduated high school?” He knew every word spilling from his lips was a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Was it your plan for Amber to have to go through all the shame and the whispering? Was it your plan for her to take off with the baby on the first bus out of town? You haven’t seen your son since he was a month old. Don’t talk to me about plans.”
    â€œI didn’t say plans always work out.” Shane barely bothered to look up from the suds-filled sink. It was damn near impossible to get a rise out of him. “I’m just saying you need to come up with something. Otherwise, you’ll end up being the Jack Daniel’s champion of Wyoming.”
    Shane had a point. Having his purpose whipped away overnight had left Ridge with an aching, empty spot inside, and lately he’d been filling it up with high-test whiskey.
    â€œWhat are you going to do, Ridge?” Shane’s tone was so gentle Ridge wanted to punch him.
    â€œI can always train horses. I’ll get Moonpie fixed up and ready to sell, maybe take in a few outside horses.”
    Shane grinned. “You’ll never fix that horse. And I’m not sure he’s worth fixing.”
    â€œYou’re wrong on that.”
    Ridge pictured the big buckskin out in the corral, kicking up his heels and snorting, endlessly raging at the confines of his new life. The horse was the result of his recent fondness for Jack Daniel’s and a random impulse to attend a Bureau of Land Management mustang sale. The whiskey had heightened his estimation of his own horse-training skills, and somehow he hadn’t noticed the animal’s obvious character defects. It was only when he went to load the animal into his trailer that he realized he’d taken on a kicking, biting bundle of nerves.
    â€œI’ll get him fixed up,” he said. “Get him so he can live in this world, at least.”
    â€œMaybe you ought to try for a grown-up goal this time,” Shane said. “Something that does the world some good and goes a little beyond buckles and babes.”
    Ridge shoved his chair back so he could face his brother, letting the legs screech on the wood floor.
    â€œYou think that’s all it was about?”
    Shane shrugged. “That’s all it was about for me. Why? What was it about