A Cowgirl's Dream Read online

  Frankie smiled. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

  “Actually, I got most of that from Doctor Phil.” Deb chuckled. Frankie gave her a light punch to the shoulder that made her laugh even harder.

  “What am I going to do without you guys over there?”

  “Probably become a champ.” Deb’s face became serious. “I mean that, Frankie. You are an incredible horsewoman. You got this, and we will be there for the finals anyway.”

  Frankie’s throat tightened, and she swallowed against the emotion building. “I guess I had better grab that suitcase so we can go.”

  Deb doffed a mock hat in her direction, “Your chauffeur will wait in the car.”

  Twenty-four hours later, Frankie finally made it to Fort Worth, or as she liked to call it, escaped the clutches of international travel. Crammed into economy, her discomfort had escalated from numb bum or, as she coined it, Numbus Bumus to pain, or Arsus Hurtus. Walking out of customs, she scanned the crowd, her heart racing anxiously for someone to be there to pick her up. A sea of signs bombarded the arriving passengers and were overwhelming in their sheer volume. She felt light-headed from relief when she eventually located her name. She looked into an open, friendly face. “Gabi?”

  “Frankie, I am so glad to finally meet you. Was the flight good?” The attractive, young dark-haired woman asked warmly.

  “It was good, but I am so glad to be off a plane at last.”

  “I bet. Shall we get going and I can show you your casa while you are here?” Gabi smiled sympathetically.

  “That would be great.”

  Gabi led the way outside of the airport to a large Dodge truck and helped lift Frankie’s bag into the back. A slight kerfuffle followed with Frankie attempting to hop in the passenger side, only to find it was the driver’s side. Once it was sorted, it didn’t take long for them to hit traffic and head out of town.

  I have to remember the cars are back to front here, she thought as she settled back into her seat.

  It was nearly dark by the time they pulled into a long gravel drive. At the entrance was a large wooden slab which had Rancho do Paraiso do Cavalerio do Touro branded onto it. Frankie looked at it curiously, her Portuguese almost non-existent. Noticing her confused look, Gabi laughed.

  “My father was one of the first Brazilian bull riders to make it big in the States. When my parents first came here, they had nothing, and he was so proud he could buy this place from his winnings. He still helps any of the Brazilian riders that come over, helps with learning English, somewhere to stay, guidance on tour. Pretty much anything they need. One day, one of the guys, Luciano, said my father had created a bull rider’s paradise, and so he decided to name the ranch that. Personally, I’m hoping to add my mark that says Affinity Ranch Stud, home to barrel horse champions.” Her hands gestured as if it was spelled in lights.

  “Let’s see what we can do about starting with home to Need for Speed World Champion,” Frankie offered.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  The ranch building appeared at the end of the drive, a warm, welcoming glow coming from the windows of the house. Frankie could make out a large barn and machinery shed to the other side of it.

  “Home, sweet home.” Gabi gave a welcoming flourish.

  “What is it in Portuguese?” Frankie glanced at the Brazilian woman.

  “Lar doce lar.”

  “Lar doce lar,” Frankie repeated as she climbed down from the car, stretching her fatigued muscles.

  The front screen door opened, and an older, rather distinguished, silver-haired gentleman appeared. He had a robust and open face. Frankie immediately saw the resemblance to the Brazilian girl.

  “Papai,” greeted Gabi. “This is Frankie. Frankie, this is my father, Eduardo.”

  Eduardo walked forward. “Hello, Frankie, I am pleased to finally meet you.” He pulled her into a warm embrace. “My wife is inside just finishing up dinner. If you like, I will take your bag to your room.”

  “Thank you, Senhor Eduardo, that would be great.”

  “Papai, remember what we spoke about. She is staying in the spare room in the bunkhouse with me,” warned Gabi.

  A flurry of Portuguese flew between father and daughter in what seemed to Frankie to be quite an animated fashion. With one final grudging look to his daughter, he picked up Frankie’s suitcase and headed to the barn.

  “Forgive my father. He can sometimes be a little old-fashioned. You have no idea how long it took for him to come around when I moved out of the house all the way over to the barn.” Gabi laughed at the memory. “Mae and Papai both think it is more suitable for you to stay in the house, but you are here as my guest. So, I win.”

  “Remind me not to go against you.” Frankie admired Gabi’s moxie.

  “I try to be on the winning side. But then again, I come from a very competitive family. I think I smell Feijoada cooking.”

  “I’m not sure I have ever had that before,” said Frankie, her stomach grumbling loudly. The noise continued as if in protest, reminding her that all she had had for the last twenty-four hours was airplane food.

  “You are in for a real treat. It’s like, the classic Brazilian dish, and my mom just so happens to make a mean version of it.” The two girls stepped off the porch and into the house in comfortable companionship, both eager to lay waste to the meal inside.

  Much later, after saying her goodnights to the family, Frankie lay snugly in her room in the bunkhouse, her belly comfortably full. The Cabrera family had included her as if she was a long-lost family member, their warm hospitality a balm to her jangled nerves of being in a strange environment. She closed her eyes tightly against the pressure she felt building, the anxiety rising in a wave. Breathing deeply, she pulled the covers tightly up under her chin as if it was protective armor. Lost in a cloud of warmth and shattered exhaustion, she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 6

  “This is Delila.” Gabi proudly led the buckskin mare out of her stall. “The pride of Affinity Ranch Stud.”

  Frankie looked the mare over curiously, liking what she saw in front of her. Delila was the color of fresh-from-the-oven biscuits, of which Frankie had just that morning been introduced to at breakfast. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends back home that biscuits, cookies and scones were all messed about in America. Returning her attention to the mare, she admired the horse’s legs that finished in a glossy black, perfectly matched by her silky ebony mane and tail. To Frankie’s experienced eye, she was a well-put-together and strong looking mare. This would work just fine.

  “She’s nice. Really nice,” Frankie said appreciatively, her hand stroking the velvety muzzle that reached out to sniff her.

  “Well, let’s get her saddled up, and you can see what she can do. I guess at the same time, I can see what you can do, too.”

  “No pressure at all.” Frankie’s eyes twinkled in anticipation.

  “None. But you doing well with my mare could put my breeding program on the map.” Gabi, her eyes solemn, stared out across the paddocks.

  “Well, you’ve got one heck of a start with this mare. Now, which saddle is hers?” Frankie said.

  Despite her confident exterior, inside, the nerves began to flutter, dancing like a kite in a storm. Delila quickly put any doubts to rest. Frankie couldn’t quite believe her luck to have secured the ride on such a well-trained, talented barrel horse. She whooped in delight as she completed the pattern, patting the prancing Delila enthusiastically.

  “Good girl. You know you’re a champion, don’t you?” she crooned. For the first time, she dared to hope that maybe, with Delila, she might just have a chance. Completing her cooling down, she walked her mount to where Gabi perched on the rails with her father beside her.

  Gabi wore a relieved smile. “I have watched the videos of your rides, but in the flesh, you are even more of an extraordinary horsewoman. I think the two of you are a good match.”

  Frankie blushed happily as she wiped the swe
at from her brow. “Thanks for trusting me with your mare, it means a lot.”

  “Papai has just reminded me we are having a churrasco in your honor this evening. He has invited some people over.”

  “What is a churrasco?” Frankie asked curiously, not entirely sure what she was getting into.

  “It is a gathering. We eat, drink, talk important affairs.” Senhor Eduardo’s merry smile was infectious. “In this case, show off our Australian guest.”

  Frankie was again beginning to feel an all-too-familiar sense of panic rise up. It must have shown on her face because Gabi looked alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  “But I don’t have anything to wear!”

  The sweet woody char of smoky meat and other aromas Frankie couldn’t quite identify wafted through the open window of her bedroom. Gabi was laying out every piece of clothing Frankie had brought with her on the bed, her lips pursed as she made little murmurings under her breath. Judging from the way she discarded each item almost as soon as she had picked it up, Frankie suspected she didn’t entirely approve of her dress sense. It didn’t help in the slightest that Frankie didn’t have the foggiest idea what to wear to a churrasco. Giving up, Gabi threw her hands up in the air, muttered something in Portuguese that Frankie suspected was not entirely polite and left the room.

  Frankie flopped down in stunned silence, not sure what she should do. Tears threatened as homesickness overwhelmed her. She began to sniffle, missing Deb and Megan. Before she could completely surrender to self-pity, Gabi popped back into the room. She carried a white lace dress in one hand and a pair of boots in the other.

  “I think we are close in size. Let’s try these on.”

  The dress had floating white sleeves and finished just above the knee. It fit just as if it had been made for her. She seated herself on the bed and began to pull a boot on. Her foot hit something cold inside it. Giving a shriek, she jumped to her feet, frantically trying to flick the boot off. Gabi doubled with laughter.

  “I don’t know why you are laughing! There’s something in there!” she said indignantly.

  Wiping tears of mirth away, Gabi pulled out a turquoise necklace and matching belt. “I am so sorry, Frankie. I forgot to mention that I put these in here because I ran out of hands to carry everything. You should have seen your face and that noise you made…” Once again, her body shook with laughter.

  Frankie’s lips began to twitch. “I thought it was a bloody cane toad.”

  “What’s a cane toad?”

  “Ugly, warty, poisonous pest toad. They like to hide in any shoes you leave about outside.” She looked down at the boots. They were a beautiful dark tan color with tooled roses that had been colored black. She had never seen a pair as beautiful back home. “These are gorgeous.”

  “They are, but I hardly wear them. They pinch my feet. If you like them, you can have them.”

  Frankie pulled them on, experimentally standing up and taking a few steps. “They feel great.”

  “Good, now for the finishing touches. Come over here.” Gabi cinched in her waist with the turquoise belt and draped the necklace around her neck. The squash blossom design finished at her breastbone. The Brazilian girl began to fuss with her hair. “I wish I could get my hair to this shade.” She gestured at Frankie’s honey-blonde locks. “Now, sit while I do something with this.”

  Frankie sat obediently. “Work your magic.”

  To be fair, in her time, Frankie had been to too many BBQ’s. Nothing prepared her for a churrasco. The tables groaned under what appeared to be an endless supply of beef, smoky chicken wings, buttery garlic bread, squeaky cheese, and pork sausages. Her stomach groaned a grumbling gurgle.

  Gabi laughed. “I think you have a good appetite. Do you want caipirinhas? Or would you prefer a beer?”

  “What is a caipirinha?”

  “It’s a cocktail made with Cachaca, lime and sugar. I have to warn you, if you aren’t used to them, they can be lethal,” Gabi stressed.

  “She’ll be right. If there’s one thing that Aussies can do, it’s hold their booze,” Frankie boasted, careful to omit that this particular Aussie didn’t quite fit the stereotype.

  “Booze?”

  “Grog, booze, piss. You know, alcohol. Anyway, that drink sounds great, I’ll try one.”

  As Gabi walked off to find some drinks, Frankie self-consciously moved to one side of the food table. Curiously, she looked around at the various groups of people gathered. She found herself on the other end of a gaze with frankly the most magnetically attractive man she had ever laid eyes on. The stranger had the swarthy complexion of most of the assembled guests. He gave a slow, seductive smile while he returned her candid appraisal, a hot-blooded gleam flaring in his dark, smiling eyes, the corners crinkling into lines that looked well-used. The man had a smile that would put a Hollywood actor to shame.

  “Here you go. I should warn you—”

  Before Gabi could finish, Frankie took the drink from her and drained it. Her regret was almost immediate. No sooner had the fluid hit the back of her throat when it induced an extreme burning sensation. Frankie could only imagine it was how a marshmallow felt just before it turned into a blistered, gooey mess on the fire. At this stage, she wasn’t even sure her esophagus still existed, let alone functioned as she vigorously exploded into a coughing fit.

  Gabi pounded her on the back while snorting with merriment. Finally, her ability to inhale oxygen was restored, and she wiped away the tears her misadventure had caused her to shed.

  “I tried to warn you.” Gabi said between bouts of laughter.

  “I know, but surely some sympathy is in order here?”

  “None.” Gabi drew in a deep, steadying breath, attempting to subdue her laughter. “Oh, I forgot, Papai wants us to come over and say hi to some people. Apparently, Luciano really wants to meet you.”

  Frankie followed Gabi, aware of a pleasant languidness settling over her now that the burning had subsided from the caipirinhas. Senhor Eduardo was deep in conversation with a couple of men. Hollywood Smile from earlier was sipping a beer while he listened. Upon their arrival, the conversation ceased.

  “Ah, girls, I have some people here that I would like to introduce Frankie too. Frankie this is Joao Rojas.” He gestured with his drink to a dark-haired man who appeared to be in his twenties. Joao nodded politely. He had the softest, kindest eyes Frankie had ever seen outside of a Labrador puppy. “And this, Frankie, is Luciano Navarro.” He placed an arm around Hollywood Smile. “Both are making Brazil proud as bull riders on the PBR.”

  Luciano stepped forward, beaming his megawatt smile, the air around him crackling with vitality as he extended a hand to Frankie. “Ola, Frankie. Eduardo had not told us that Gabriella’s amiga was so bonita.”

  Finding herself on the receiving end of such pure maleness, warmth flowed up into Frankie’s face, infusing it a bright scarlet. She desperately prayed it was too dark for Luciano to be able to tell. She had no idea what he had called her, but the intimate tone left her feeling flustered.

  “Leave her alone, Luciano.” Gabi stepped between them, wagging her finger in warning. “Frankie is not some buckle bunny plaything. She is here to chase a dream just like you, so don’t mess it up for her.”

  He looked back at Frankie again, a glimmer of respect flickering in his eyes. “I would not ruin her dreams. But maybe she will dream of me too, huh?”

  He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders. Frankie stood riveted, never having been the recipient of such a directly amorous look, a tingle beginning in her belly.

  “I doubt there is room in my dreams for such a big ego.” She smiled sweetly. Joao and Senhor Eduardo snickered. “Joao, it was nice to meet you. Maybe next time, this one here”—she pointed at Luciano—“won’t hog all the attention.” With a saucy wink, she flounced off with Gabi beside her chuckling.

  “I am so glad I didn’t miss that. Luciano usually has the ladies fall in a heap at his feet. Did you see his face?” Gabi giggled at
the memory.

  “No, I was too busy making a dramatic exit. I figured amiga means friend, but what does bonita mean?”

  “Our Luciano thinks you are beautiful.” Gabi waggled her eyebrows comically.

  For what felt like the hundredth time that evening, Frankie blushed. “Well, he can think that all he wants. But after the last one, give me horses anytime. At least then, the only males I have to deal with are nice, quiet geldings!”

  Chapter 7

  The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of time spent with Delila, getting to know her quirks, and helping around the ranch with various tasks. It hadn’t taken Frankie long to notice the black colt that only Senhor Eduardo handled. As she performed her jobs about the ranch throughout the day, she always found herself drawn back to the colt. Fixated on the horse, she was determined to discover his story and why such a magnificent creature was largely ignored.

  “Senhor Eduardo, that black colt of yours is something else.” Frankie admired the horse. “He can jump into my suitcase anytime he wants.”

  Senhor Eduardo looked sadly at the colt playfully splashing his muzzle into the water trough. The water droplets caught the sun as they flicked through the air. “I had high hopes for him. With his bloodlines, he should be a champion, but no one can handle him long enough to even break him. He is just too unpredictable. That is why I will not let Gabriella handle him.” Senhor Eduardo sighed heavily. “It is a shame, especially with Gabriella trying to breed champions. I guess he will not be one of them.”

  Frankie’s eyes narrowed with a determined glint. “What’s his name?”

  The older man gave her a steady look. “We have never named him as nothing seemed to stick. He was always an odd one.”

  Frankie frowned. “It seems a shame to me. I’ve worked with some tricky ones back home. Maybe I could give it a shot,” she offered, holding her breath hopefully.