Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys

by D'Ann Lindun

  “Let them. I’m tired of cowering like a little girl behind my mama’s skirts. If I stand up to him, he’ll scurry back into the hole he crawled out of.” Lyle had taken all he was going to from the creep. He wouldn’t lose it like he had with Ray Gardner, but he wasn’t going to eat any more crap either.

  Bailey pulled her phone from her purse. “I’m going to report this.”

  They stood in silence until a patrol car pulled into the parking lot. A tall, skinny cop exited the car and walked toward them. “Hi, Sarah. You reported a shooting?”

  Bailey stepped forward. “No, I did.”

  The officer—whose nametag read Proctor—pulled a small notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. “Name? Do you know what happened?”

  “Bailey McKlellan,” she said. “It’s my truck that took the hit. All I know is someone shot out the windshield.”

  “Were you here when the shooting occurred?” the cop asked.

  “No.”

  Lyle raised a hand. “I was, but inside when it happened.” “Me, too,” Sarah said.

  “Kind of late for the bar to be open, isn’t it?” Proctor made a note.

  “It wasn’t open.” Color climbed up Sarah’s cheeks. “I had just closed up for the night when we heard the noise.”

  Proctor chewed the end of his pen as he looked around at them. “Any idea why the window was shot out? Did you see anyone?”

  “I fired a guy a few days ago,” Bailey told him. “His name is Rocky Rhodes and he didn’t take it well.”

  Lyle spoke. “Sarah stayed inside, and I didn’t see anything. I think he put a burr under my one of Bailey’s horse’s saddleblankets, too.” He ignored Bailey’s startled look. “The horse bucked pretty hard. Someone could have gotten hurt badly if they were caught unaware.”

  “What does this have to do with you?” Proctor studied him as if memorizing his face.

  “Lyle Landry.” He lifted his chin and met the deputy’s eyes squarely, but the cop didn’t seem to recognize his name. “I work for Miss McKlellan and I’m driving her truck for the time being.”

  “What were you doing out so late?”

  “Visiting Miss Reed.” Lyle’s groin tightened when he recalled the act they’d shared. He hoped his voice didn’t deepen when he spoke her name and give them away. What they’d done was between the two of them. It was still too fresh to share with anyone else.

  “Why would this man shoot at a truck you’re driving and not Miss McKlellan’s vehicle?”

  Lyle shrugged. “Rhodes seems to have a problem with me because I ride broncs a little better than he does.”

  “Could this be more than professional jealousy?” The deputy arched a brow. “Maybe he’s aiming at you because Miss McKlellan likes you better than him?”

  “There’s nothing between Lyle and me,” Bailey said. “And there’s certainly nothing between Rocky and me.” She shuddered. “Never.”

  “Seems kind of extreme to shoot at a truck over a firing,” Proctor said. “But stranger things have happened.”

  “You’ll look into it?” Bailey pressed.

  Proctor snapped his notebook closed. “Yeah. I’ll interview this Rhodes guy and see what he has to say for himself.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Lyle said. “You might as well know up front that I’m a convicted felon.”

  “I know who you are,” Proctor said. “But last time I checked you’re entitled to be protected under the law just like everyone else. Unless you shot first…then that’s another thing.”

  “I didn’t,” Lyle said evenly, shocked by the cop’s response. “I can vouch for him.” Sarah looked the deputy in the eye. “We were together when the windshield was shot, and also when the horse bucked. I felt the cactus thorn stuck in that blanket with my own fingers.”

  Something coiled tight inside Lyle unrolled a little. Sarah obviously knew the lawman, and that she’d stood up for him meant more than words could say.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sarah breathed in the scents of animals, carnival type food and the racket of animals and excited spectators like an addict given free rein to their drug of choice. She’d forgotten how much she missed the camaraderie and feeling of belonging to something bigger than herself.

  People she thought had long forgotten her greeted her with warm smiles and asked what she’d been up to in her absence. To Sarah’s surprise, the same happened with Lyle. Everywhere he went, other contestants seemed genuinely happy to see him. No one shunned him or seemed to want him gone.

  Hand-in-hand they walked to the back of the chutes. He would ride in a little while and she was excited to see how he’d do. If she were a betting woman, she’d lay odds that he’d ride to the buzzer.

  When they reached the pens holding the bucking stock, he stopped. “I need to go now. I’ll meet you by the east gate after I ride, okay?”

  She brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’ll be there. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” The look in his eyes made her knees shake. He’d asked her if she wanted him to book one room, or two, and she’d chosen one. Anticipation of their night together had her insides all jittery.

  Giving her hand one last squeeze, Lyle walked toward the chutes. She watched for a moment, then turned away to find her spot along the fence. Edging alongside two young cowboys, she propped her boot on the bottom rail and leaned on her elbows to peer through the top rung.

  The announcer’s voice boomed over the arena and echoed off the stands. “Next up, saddlebronc riding. We have some real talent with us tonight. Two names you all will recognize— Skylor Knox and Lyle Landry who’s been off the circuit for a while …”

  The guy standing next to her nudged his buddy. “Hey, isn’t that the guy who killed somebody a few years ago?”

  “I think so.”

  Sarah tuned them out, searching for Lyle on the catwalk behind the chutes. There! She saw him standing above a big blue roan. He and another man were saddling the nervous horse.

  The announcer grabbed her attention with “…and Rocky Rhodes, a newcomer to the sport whose been making a name for himself locally.”

  Sarah’s head snapped up at the mention of Rocky’s name. He was here tonight? Had Lyle seen him, and had the creep given him any trouble? Of all the places for him to show up— just when Lyle needed all his wits about him for his first time back in competition. She wrapped her hands around the top rail so tight they burned.

  The first three riders were thrown, two rode with low scores.

  Then the announcer called, “Next up, Rocky Rhodes. Love that name, boys and girls. Let’s see how Rocky does with Tailwind.”

  The horse lunged forward, slamming his chest into the chute. Rocky waited for him to settle, then nodded. The black horse stood for a moment muscles tensed, then jumped high and straight. He landed with a thud that seemed to shake the ground. Sarah bit her bottom lip as Rocky viciously raked the horse’s shoulders with his spurs.

  Twisting as if his life depended on it, Tailwind did everything in his power to throw his rider. But, Rocky stuck like a burr in sheep’s wool. When the buzzer sounded the crowd erupted.

  “Our judges say Rocky has a score of Eighty-eight. He just moved into first place,” the announcer said. “And it will be hard to beat.”

  Rocky waved both hands in the air, acknowledging the crowd’s appreciation of his ride. He exited the arena with a swagger.

  Sarah’s heart beat in a wild staccato. Could Lyle beat his nemesis’ score? She watched, but hardly took in the next two riders who were both thrown before time was up.

  “Last up is a former world champion, Lyle Landry,” the announcer called. “He’s drawn Battle Cry, who hasn’t had a rider stick on her this year. She’s a great mare. Keep your eyes on this one. This is a great matchup, folks. Let’s see what our former champ can do.”

  Sarah’s mouth went dry as a desert. She licked her lips and tried to remember how to breathe as Lyle settled onto the roan. He gave his Stetson one last push
onto his head and nodded.

  The guy running the gates swung it open.

  Battle Cry lunged into the arena. Her bucks were high and landings hard. With beauty and grace of a man born to ride, Lyle swayed with the roan mare. Their bodies moved in sync almost as if they’d practiced this dance a million times.

  Someone screamed ride, cowboy, ride!

  Sarah realized it was her.

  Time seemed to stand still as the mare struggled to throw Lyle and he fought to stay aboard.

  Eight seconds had never seemed so long. Lyle’s turquoise chaps flapped as he spurred.

  Fierce in her goal, the mare grunted; dust flew as her hooves hit the ground. Struggling for control, the duo battled across the arena, both determined to outdo the other. The mare fishtailed impossibly high, but the cowboy stuck hard.

  The buzzer sounded. Sarah’s body sagged. Made it!

  The pickup man, riding a flashy paint, helped Lyle to the ground and ushered Battle Cry out of the arena. The crowd waited in hushed anticipation of the score. Seemingly unconcerned, Lyle walked toward the chutes.

  Although he appeared outwardly calm, if he were half as nervous as Sarah, he had to be shaking on the inside.

  The microphone crackled. “And we have a score, folks.” Sarah held her breath.

  “How do you feel about a ninety? Lyle Landry wins the saddlebronc riding. Not too shabby, cowboy.”

  The crowd went wild, cheering and stomping so hard the stands seemed to rock. Sarah yelled so loud her voice cracked. He’d done it! Lyle won the event! She couldn’t wait to see him to offer congratulations. She began maneuvering her way through the contestants milling around the gates.

  Someone grabbed her arm and she looked up in surprise. A cowboy she didn’t know had hold of her sleeve. “What’s a looker like you doing with a jailbird like him?” The guy leered at her.

  “Let go of me.” She yanked her arm free. “Don’t talk about Lyle like that.”

  He released her and held his hands up in surrender. “Whatever.”

  Sarah fumed as the jerk walked away. Lyle was so much more than his past. Kind. Considerate. Sexy as hell.

  I’m crazy forhim.

  The thought stopped her in her tracks. She’d fallen for the cowboy.

  ~*~

  Lyle was bent over his saddle, doing a post ride check of his rigging when someone shoved him hard. Stumbling forward, he caught himself before he fell. He spun around, hands clenched. “What the hell?”

  Rocky stood there, glaring. His face was red, and Lyle half expected him to blow snot and bellow like one of the bucking bulls in the nearby corral. “You son-of-a-bitch.”

  “What’s your problem, Rhodes?”

  “You called the cops on me, dirt bag. And I out rode you tonight. Those judges are blind.”

  Lyle laughed. “If you believe that, dipshit, you’re stupider than you look.”

  With a roar of rage, Rocky lunged forward, hands folded in beefy fists. Lyle easily sidestepped Rocky’s charge. “Knock it off. I’m not going to fight you.”

  “Scared I’m gonna kick your ass?” Rocky doubled his hands again.

  “No.” Lyle lifted his chin. “I just don’t want to do this.” This time, Rocky didn’t give warning, just lunged forward,his considerable weight propelling him like a freight train. His fist connected with Lyle’s cheek like a maul on a chunk of wood. And like a hunk of old cedar, his skin split, blood rising to the surface. He could feel it running down his face and dripping onto his new shirt, bought just for the occasion.

  He saw red as a familiar rage filled him. With a snarl, he doubled his fists.

  Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of hot pink.

  A shirt.

  Sarah.

  She’d defended him to the cops. He couldn’t let her down.

  Before he could go to her, she turned and fled.

  Because he was distracted, Rocky hit him. Hard. Lyle went down like a tree in the forest. As he struggled to stand, several cowboys grabbed Rocky and dragged him back. “Knock it off,” one of them said.

  “Call the cops,” another one called. “This guy should be arrested.”

  Someone held out his hand to Lyle. He took it and the man pulled him to his feet. “You okay, buddy?”

  “Fine.” His cheek hurt like hell, but there was no way he would admit it. He had to find Sarah and explain what had just happened. He sagged against the fence. What if she wouldn’t listen? What if she thought he started the fight?

  His heart twisted like a used bandana.

  He’d fallen for her, and if she didn’t believe him, he didn’t know if he could bear it.

  ~*~

  Sarah had taken one look at the blood running down Lyle’s face and Rocky readying to strike him again and she’d sprinted for her cell phone in Lyle’s truck. She’d left her purse there for safekeeping.

  She was fumbling with the lock when Lyle reached her. He grabbed her upper arms. “Sarah, please look at me.”

  She spun around and gasped. The side of his face was covered with blood, coming from a gash in his cheek. She lifted her hand, then dropped it. “My God. You’re hurt.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  “You need to call the cops on that guy. He’s insane and he’s going to kill you one of these times.” Her voice shook.

  “I will, but I want to explain first,” he said. “I saw you take off—”

  “I ran for a phone,” Sarah told him. “To call 911.”

  “To report me,” he said bitterly.

  “What?” She shook her head. “Of course not. I wanted a cop to arrest that creep.”

  Lyle looked poleaxed. “I thought—”

  “What? That I’m like your ex? That I’m not loyal?” Indignation filled her voice. “You really believe I’d do that?”

  “No.”

  “Apparently you think the worst of me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  “No.” He shook his head, then winced. “I don’t. Just the opposite…”

  “You don’t trust me.” She blinked hard and looked away. “If you did you’d tell me what happened with your ex and the reason you went to prison. But you won’t open up.”

  He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Sarah. I just don’t want to rehash the whole god-awful episode.”

  “I understand.” She began to turn away and he grabbed her hand.

  “Wait. Please.”

  “You need to sit and have someone look at that gash. It needs stitches.” She opened the truck door and insisted he slide into the passenger seat. After he obeyed, she walked round to the driver’s seat and settled behind the wheel. “I’m going to drive you to the emergency room.”

  “Not yet. I need to tell you about Marla.” He stared out the front windshield. “She was gorgeous. A cute, little blonde with those big, blue eyes that make a man stupid.”

  Sarah fought a surge of jealousy that statement brought.

  “She was enthralled with rodeo cowboys. I fell for her,

  hard.” He stopped, paused. “One thing led to another and we got married. I had some savings and bought a ranch. I was getting thrown more than I ever had, and it was time to quit. Marla didn’t see things the same way. She hated ranch life. She found entertainment with other men.”

  “She cheated?”

  “Constantly. At first, I was unaware of it, but finally the facts became obvious, even to me. She slept with every cowboy who entered a rodeo.”

  Sarah wanted to speak, to somehow comfort him, but she sensed he wouldn’t welcome the attempt.

  “One night I came home tired, hungry and pissed off. When I found an empty house and no supper, I followed Marla to the no-tell motel. She was in bed with a guy named Roy Gardner. We fought, I hit him. He fell and cracked his head open. His neck was also broken. He died later in the hospital. I was charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to Cańon City for twenty years. I got out in ten for good behav
ior.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered.

  “I am, too,” he said. “For screwing up my life for a woman who didn’t give a damn about me.”

  Sarah slid across the seat, gently tugged his chin until he turned his face in her direction. “But you could spend the rest of your life with a woman who thinks you’re the best man she’s ever known.”

  His haunted eyes met hers. “I want nothing more, but my temper—”

  She placed her fingers over his lips. “Your anger is under control. You could have beaten Rocky—God knows he deserves it—but you didn’t.”

  “Only because ten guys pulled him off…”

  “No,” Sarah insisted. “Because you’re the bigger man and you didn’t let him provoke you into a fight.”

  A tiny kernel of hope lit in his eyes. “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it,” she said. “You controlled yourself not only tonight, but the other night, too, when he shot out the windshield.”

  “I wanted to kick his ass,” Lyle admitted.

  “But don’t you see? You didn’t.” Desperation to make him believe her filled Sarah. She took a deep breath. “My father was killed in a convenience store robbery by two thugs who took twenty-three dollars and fourteen cents from him.” At his shocked look, she continued. “If I thought you were that kind of man, do you think I would have let myself fall in love with you?”

  His cloudy gray eyes turned smoky. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip.

  “I’m in love with you, Lyle Landry, and I’m hoping you love me, too.”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said in a guttural voice.

  She slid closer, so that her knee bumped his thigh. “Don’t you get it? The only way you could ever hurt me is by not loving me back.” Sarah felt as if her heart might shred if he didn’t want her, too.

  Time seemed to hang suspended.

  Then he bent his head and brushed her lips with his. “I’ve been in love with you from the minute I saw you. If you’ll take a chance on this old cowboy, you’d make me the happiest man alive.”