Travis watched as Harley's whole demeanor changed right before his eyes. It was like watching blinds being slowly pulled inside those amazing eyes of hers. Where they generally sparkled bright enough to rival fireworks lightening up a darkened sky, they now seemed dulled with uneasiness and tension. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something was seriously bothering her, and it had to be more than just the parking situation.

A tiny niggle of guilt crept into his subconscious, and he stubbornly shoved it aside. Yes, he had stretched the truth a little, but it was a harmless lie. The Golden Creek boys had agreed to exchange spots with him, but only after he coughed up enough dough for Gabe Harper to buy the prized cow he'd been eyeing for months. The gruff owner laughed his ass off all the way to the bank at Travis's expense, but the money and ribbing that went along with it meant nothing. Not when it came to Harley's safety. When it came to her, he would have paid twice as much if necessary. She might be a tad suspicious of his motives, but he knew Harley. Something as trivial as where he parked his rig would hardly cause her to practically ooze apprehension. Besides, she said she didn't want to team up with him. She didn't say anything about him parking next to her.

Travis's mind continued to chew on her sudden odd reactions. Maybe it was the bickering between him and her boys that were adding to her nerves. It was true; he had succumbed to his more immature mentality when it had come to Cade and Tanner provoking him. He wasn't necessarily proud of himself or his behavior, but dammit...those two could test the patience of Job.

His eyes traveled over to Harley who was busily pinning Tanner's number on the back of his shirt, her gaze met his, but then just as quickly, moved away. Somehow he doubted his little squabble with the guys was the reason behind her sudden change of behavior. After all, she dealt with those boys on a daily basis and was used to the constant bickering. It had to be something else.

Had Rafferty somehow managed to get to her? Travis looked around at the crowds of people milling around, some he recognized, some he didn't, but none of them were from Rafferty's camp. He sucked in a frustrated breath. This was bullshit. There was only one way to figure out what the hell was going on, and that was to ask her. Stomping over to Harley, he grabbed her by the elbow and led her to the front of her pickup, out of ear shot.

"What do you want?" she huffed.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No? Why?"

Damn. Harley had technically answered him, but the words came out quick and sharp, and she was still avoiding looking directly at him.

"Oh, I don't know, sunshine. Maybe because since I pulled in, you've been dealing a lot of cold shoulder my way." He didn't mean for his voice to sound as bitter and accusing as it did, but it slipped out anyway. Taking a steadying breath, he tried again. "Tell me what's bothering you so I can fix it."

Finally, she looked up at him, but her stare was stony. "I'm fine," she snapped, jerking her arm out of his grasp. "I don't need you fixing anything, cowboy."

"You don't seem fine," he fired back just as swiftly. "We can sit here and bicker back and forth all damn day, or you can stop acting like a child and tell me what's bothering you." The minute the words came out of his mouth, he regretted them when Harley stepped back, looking as if he had struck her. But, his shock was short lived before anger narrowed her eyes and flushed her cheeks.

"You want to know what's bothering me? You are!" she hissed. "Why don't you go tell Diego some morbid stories about a rogue bull that guts people for shits and giggles? And then, when you're through with that, you can sit Bo and Cade down and tell them the perils of calf roping and how many people have died." She wrapped her arms over her chest and stuck out a booted foot, tapping it irritably on the ground. "In fact, since you seem to enjoy messing with people's minds, why stop there. You have my full attention, why not try and scare me to death by recanting some tales of horror about the dangers of barrel racing? Oh, wait! Never mind. I've already lived it."

Her words slapped him in the face, stunning him to the point he was speechless.

I...I didn't..." What the hell was happening? Travis's brain scrambled to come up with something to say, but he kept drawing a blank. The only thing repeatedly flashing through his mind was the image of her from the video laying broken in the dirt. His stomach seized into a tight knot, making him feel nauseous.

Before he could spit out a word in his defense, she took a menacing step towards him, her violet glare hard and condemning as she poked him in the chest. "Don't stand there and try and tell me you didn't intend to scare Tanner half to death right before he's due to ride. What kind of jerk does that, Travis? Is that how you've been winning? Do you intimidate the other teams? Knock down their self-confidence? Terrify them into not competing against you?" Harley snorted. "If those are the kind of tactics you use, then you can just stay over on your side, Montgomery. We don't need you." Spinning on the heel of her boot, she stormed back over to where her boys were still standing, and all eyes turned towards him. None of them friendly.

"Well...damn. If that wasn't a fuck you, I don't know what is."

Travis whirled around to find a man casually leaning against the grill of his dually, a toothpick dangling out of the corner of his mouth. The guy was dressed in a pair of pressed dress slacks, with a black, silk button-down tucked neatly in the waist, cinched with a fancy leather belt that was definitely meant for fashion over function. Everything about him practically screamed outsider. From his slicked back hair, right down to the spit shine on his expensive leather loafers.

"Who the fuck are you?" Travis growled, the hair on the back of his neck rising with distrust.

A grin curled up the man's thin lips but didn't touch his emotionless, calculating leer. "Just a spectator out enjoying the festivities." The man leisurely pushed himself off the truck as if he didn't have a damn care in the world. "Good luck today, Mr. Cowboy," he said, giving Travis a one fingered salute before strolling off and disappearing into the thick throng of the crowd. The light-hearted tune he'd started whistling before sauntering off lingered like a cold chill behind him.

"All you bronc riders cowering behind the chutes, need to pull on your big boy britches and get ready to ride! We've got some real humdingers today, folks! Our pens are full of some of the most spectacular broncs and bulls you can only find here. You're about to see some of the wildest, buckinest livestock Montana has to offer at this year's rodeo, and the cowboys crazy enough to try and ride 'em. So hang on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen, because these fellas are about to get theirs knocked clean off their heads!"

Any idea of who the man was, vanished from Travis's mind as he made a beeline back around Harley's trailer. Somehow, he had to make things right. If he didn't, it would be near impossible to keep an eye on her if she kept kicking his ass to the curb.

"Well, I had better get to it," Tanner said, clapping his thick, rawhide glove against his leather chaps. "Razzle Dazzle waits for no man."

"You've got this, Tanner," Harley encouraged, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a tight squeeze. "There's not a horse on this planet that can get the best of you."

Tanner gave Harley a brave smile, but Travis could see right through it. There was fear lingering in those young baby blues, and he was smart for having it. He might have felt sorry for stooping to childish bullying, but Travis hadn't been exaggerating about Razzle's infamous notoriety. The horse had put more cowboys in the hospital than Travis could count, and contrary to what Harley had accused him of, he would feel absolutely horrible if something happened to the kid.

Despite a warning growls from Cade and Bo, Travis stepped up to Tanner and wrapped an arm over the kid's shoulder. "Just remember, keep your toes up. You're a larger-than-average rider, which is going to work in your favor because Razzle is a big horse. That gelding's size will make for a smoother spurring motion for you. But, remember, Razzle is also heavy. His jerks are going to be harder than your typical broncs, and he has no timing. You never know what that tricky bastard is going to do next, so don't get comfortable up there thinking you found a rhythm, because the moment he senses you've relaxed, that's when he'll send you into a spin."

"No problem, Montgomery. My ass is like Velcro."

Cade, who had been hovering nearby, reared back, his brows knitting together in disgust. "Dude! There's a visual we didn't need."

The tips of Tanner's ears turned a bright pink. "I'm just saying..."

"What you're saying is one thing, what you're making us picture is another. Nobody needs a graphic image of your ass covered with dark, curly hair that loops and hooks," Cade interrupted, giving an overstated hard shudder. "Now I am never going to get that out of my head, you moron. From now on, every time I see Velcro, I'm going to be thinking about your ugly ass, thank you very much."

Travis knew Cade was trying to lighten things up, but now that he verbally painted the picture, he was grimacing inside too. Drawing Tanner in, he whispered, "I'm sure that sounded different in your head, kid, but please, never say that again."

Tanner gave an uncomfortable cough, pulling at the collar of his shirt. "Yeah, I didn't think that one through."

"Just remember what I said. Keep your toes pointed towards the sky, chin tucked in tight, and lay back. If you feel yourself going over, let go and get the hell out of dodge. Do not let Razzle pull you into the well." It was the horse's best move. He would circle and twirl, making the rider come off on the inside of the spin which put them in the greatest danger of injury because they fall closer to his unforgiving hooves. "There's no shame in bailing and living to ride another day."

"Gotcha." Tanner gave him a quick thumbs up before trotting off towards the chutes.

Travis watched him go, saying a little prayer under his breath that the kid would listen and not try to be the hero. Unexpectedly, two arms enveloped around his middle, making him jump.

"Thanks for that," Harley said softly, giving him a squeeze before releasing him.

"Harley, I really didn't mean..."

She held up her hand and shook her head, silencing him. "I know," she breathed, looking up at him for the first time in what felt like ages today. There was still a good amount of uneasiness reflecting out, but also a lot of love that made Travis feel a little weak in the knees. "I don't know what's gotten into me lately." She gave a dry laugh. "I think this whole rodeo thing is making me a little crazy." She turned her attention to the crowds still making their way to the stands. "This is the first time I've competed without...my dad."

The words were hardly above a croaked whisper, but they had enough power to shoot pain straight to Travis's heart.

"He's always with you, sunshine." Reaching out, he cupped her chin to turn her to face him. "I knew Jake, and he was one stubborn man when it came to protecting the things he loved the most. Not even death would stop him from being with you." He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ears. "I know it wouldn't stop me."

He watched her as she visibly took a deep inhale, and slowly blew it out, trying to fight the tears that were rapidly gathering. For all her toughness, bravado and determination, he could sense the fragility behind the façade, a hoard of hidden insecurities and fears she kept firmly in check and out of sight. Not that she would ever admit to having them. Travis knew she saw those things as a flaw, and if there was one thing his sunshine wouldn't abide by, it would be showing weakness of any kind. She was a small powerhouse, a pint-sized warrior through and through.

A tangle of conflicting emotions welled up in his chest. Part of him needed to protect and keep her safe at all costs, but, then there was the part warring inside him over his pride on how amazing this woman was. Deep down, he knew there wasn't anything she couldn't achieve or overcome if she set her mind to it. She was the quintessence of a can do attitude.

"You're right," Harley said, straightening her shoulders. She gave a stiff nod as if she decided something, and gave him a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I...uh...better go. I don't want to miss Tanner's ride."

She was tense again, bouncing from one foot to the other while the awkwardness continued to grow between them so heavily, it felt like a physical wall separating them. The easy ebb and flow they usually shared having vanished into thin air. For the life of him, Travis couldn't think of a thing to say to her that would rectify this strange situation.

"I'll see you...uh...around, I guess." With a shaky hand, she patted him on the arm before turning and heading towards the chutes. "Good luck," she threw over her shoulder as she edged her way through the crowds and disappeared out of sight.

"Fuck me," Travis muttered, plucking his hat off his head to scrub a palm through his hair.

"Not in your lifetime," Butch said, coming up alongside him. He slapped him hard on the shoulder, forcing Travis to take a stumbling step forward. "Troubles in paradise?" Meyers's lopsided grin grew wider around the sizeable bite of a hot dog swimming in mustard.

"What the hell do you want?" Travis glared at him. He was hardly in the mood to share his problems with the ex-military asshole who probably knew more about assault rifles than women.

Butch chewed thoughtfully for a moment, his jaw clicking away before swallowing and dabbing at a bit of mustard off his lip with a napkin. "Stuck your foot in your mouth again, huh? Amazing how you keep doing that, considering the size of those clod-hoppers you call feet. Ever think of getting a job as a circus sideshow freak, Montgomery?"

"Fuck you." Travis winced at Butch's well-aimed accuracy to the situation. Usually, he had no problem talking to women, until recently. Once upon a time ago, he would talk, the women would giggle and then they would end up in his bed. The end for the need of conversation. But, obviously, what he thought were "smooth moves" were turning out to be not as charming as he had once thought.

"Don't beat yourself up. You're a natural born idiot, and the female mind is one complicated contraption which unfortunately doesn't come with an owner's manual." Butch finished off the rest of his hot dog. Balling up the trash, he made a swift free-throw style shot into an awaiting garbage can. "As for answering your question of why I am gracing this hellhole with my appealing presence, it's because Davidson convinced me to attend this hillbilly festival to help keep watch for anything out of the ordinary. He has every available warm body spread out through the fairground in case anything goes down." Meyers shrugged a broad shoulder. "My opinion is I doubt Rafferty or the goons will pull anything with so many witnesses around. I had no idea watching a bunch of rednecks trying to kill themselves was so popular and entertaining."

"I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain it to you in terms a puddle pirate would understand," Travis growled. The sound of Butch's voice and his opinions were starting to grate on his last nerve.

"Goes to show what you know. A puddle pirate is a member of the Coast Guard, dumbass. I was a Navy Seal," Butch snarled, a belligerent scowl on his scarred face.

"Okay, all you cowboys and cowgirls!" The speaker squawked to life above their heads. "We got our first victim...ahem...I mean contestant rigged up and ready to ride. This cowboy hails from the Flying J and is sitting on top of Mucho Dinero. This frisky mare is the same horse Kyle Lait set a world record on. Let's see if Jonnie McGuire can break it...or if this horse will prove whose boss once and for all!"

"Fine, you can impress me by balancing a ball on your nose while I throw dead fish at your face later," Travis muttered, brushing past Meyer. "Just keep your damn eyes peeled," he tossed over his shoulder at Butch as he started weaving his way through the crowd of cowboy-hatted men and tightly-jeaned women. He paid attention to none of them; he needed to get his ass to the chutes. Even though she was trying to avoid him, he wasn't letting Harley out of his sight whether she liked it or not.

Author's Note:

Howdy!

Yup, your eyes are not deceiving you! It's the newest installment of When Roses Collide! Things here are busy, busy, busy, but I managed to squeeze some writing in over the weekend. :)

I'm going to keep this note short, but I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter, and if you did, you will consider giving it a vote.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon...in Bending Steele. *waves and heads back to her laptop

Sincerely,

K