Reunited with the Cowboy

by Claire McEwen

  Lillian settled herself in the seat and reached for her seat belt. “I guess I was tired of watching you hide from what happened.” She reached out and patted Maya’s hand. “You’re certainly not hiding anymore. And you know what? Courage looks good on you. Now come on, let’s get going.”

  Maya went around to the driver’s side, not sure if she should laugh or cry. She’d been so worried about Grandma. So ready to come home and try to rescue her. When really it was Grandma who’d been on a rescue mission.

  Maybe she should resent the deception, but she also understood why Lillian had finally put her foot down and forced her to come home. Because Grandma was right. It was past time that Maya faced all this. And even though facing it wasn’t exactly fun, it was helping her feel a little stronger each day.

  Still, when she plunked herself down in the seat next to Grandma Lillian and started the engine, she couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “Big hair and a flashy outfit, huh? You’re trouble, but that doesn’t really describe you very well.”

  Grandma gave her a wink. “Maybe causing trouble to help someone you love calls for a more understated look.”

  “Ah, that explains it.” Maya leaned over, gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek and started them on the road home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CALEB FOUND JACE already by the chutes at the Shelter Creek Rodeo. “Sorry I’m late,” he told his buddy. “Parking was insane.”

  “What’s insane is that I let you talk me into this.” Jace glared as he pinned his number to his shirt. “Me riding in a rinky-dink rodeo like this, well, it’s kind of like setting up the tombstone to make sure everyone knows my career is dead and buried.”

  “Or maybe that’s just your pride talking,” Caleb shot back, craning his neck to try to get the pin through his shirt without stabbing himself. He’d had to park so far away, he’d barely had time to get his number.

  He glanced around the arena. Not much had changed. The old weathered announcers stand was looking more rickety than ever, but the same golden hills rose beyond the ring, the same smell of dust, barbecue and excitement filled the air.

  He’d been apprehensive about coming here today, afraid he’d miss his parents, Julie and Maya cheering him on from the stands. And he did miss that, right down to his bones. But it was still good to be back.

  Maybe that’s what healing was. Your losses still hurt, but you learned to live with them. You let the ache of them exist right alongside the good.

  “Explain to me why you’re so keen on us riding bulls today?” Jace tightened the buckle on his tooled chaps, looking every bit the professional rider.

  Caleb went for the easiest answer. “Well, your nieces and nephew should see you do your thing. Then maybe they’ll think you’re cool and they’ll listen to you more often.”

  “Well, if you’re right, that might just make this whole fiasco worth it.” Jace clapped him on the shoulder. “If it works, I will owe you, big-time.”

  “And folks will be pretty excited to see their local rodeo hero in action, right here in Shelter Creek,” Caleb continued.

  “Now you’re trying to salvage a few shreds of my dignity. But that’s not why you asked me to do this.”

  Caleb sighed. “Okay, the truth is, I thought if I did it on my own, I might just chicken out. It’s been over a decade since I’ve been on a bull.”

  Jace gaped at him. “Then why the hell are you getting on one now? You know these aren’t little kitty cats like that crazy scrap of orange that rides around on your shoulder. These guys are a ton of pissed-off muscle and they’d be happy to throw you into a fence or trample you to death.”

  Caleb glared at him. “I’ve ridden bulls before. Does high school rodeo champion three years running ring any bells? I kicked your butt each one of those years.”

  “It’s been a long time since high school.”

  “Well, maybe I’m ready to revisit my glory days.”

  “Why?” Jace planted his feet and glowered at him. “Who are you trying to impress? So I know what cause to put on your death certificate.”

  Caleb wasn’t sure how to answer that. Truthfully, he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He just needed to show himself that he could hang in there when things got rough. That he didn’t have to numb himself with booze every time a difficult memory or complicated emotion wandered across his psyche.

  Riding a bull was the opposite of numb. It was risking everything for nothing but an eight-second ride and a two-bit trophy. It was jumping right up on the tightrope between life and death and forcing himself to balance. It wasn’t just facing fear down, it was spitting right in its eye.

  “I’ve got no one to impress. I guess I just feel like beating you again, for old times’ sake.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t get yourself killed out there,” Jace muttered. “I hope I don’t get myself killed either. The purse just isn’t worth it.”

  Caleb elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Yeah, but the glory is. Come on, you’re the local hero. Show all of us amateurs how it’s done.”

  “Fine.” Jace elbowed him back. “But you owe me a beer or three after this.”

  Just the words were tempting. But Caleb had made a decision, haunted by that empty bottle on the porch. He hadn’t had a drink in the two weeks since then. “How about a coffee instead?”

  At Jace’s questioning look, he tried to explain, without sounding too dramatic. “I figured I’ve had a few too many beers lately. I’ve been giving my liver a little vacation.”

  “Adam is gonna be so excited he got through to you.” Jace grinned. “Watch it. He’ll be so full of himself when he hears about this. Who knows what he’ll start preaching about next?”

  Caleb winced at the thought. “Maybe we can just agree not to tell him.”

  Jace nodded. “Though at some point, when he hasn’t arrested you in a while, he’s going to figure it out for himself.”

  Caleb’s ability to laugh still surprised him. It did seem like, without the booze, the world got a half shade lighter every day. “Come on, they’re starting to bring the bulls in. We’d better get over there.”

  They walked to the arena side by side. As they approached the chutes, Jace glanced his way. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

  Caleb shoved down the unease that was starting to creep in and mess with his head. This was why he needed Jace here. Just like he’d needed his platoon in combat. Fear held less power when it had company. “Ready as I can be,” Caleb told him. “Let’s do this. Let’s go ride some bulls.”

  * * *

  IT WAS HARD to look away from the clowns running around the rodeo arena, one of them pushing the other in a wheelbarrow, blue-jeaned limbs flailing, but Maya pressed on through the crowd. The bull riding was going to start in a few minutes and she didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be reminded of all the years she’d watched Caleb ride at this rodeo, and how much she’d loved it.

  At least the crowds made it a little easier by blocking her view of the chutes, where bulls were being loaded and cowboys were getting ready to try their skill and luck. Maya hefted her folded table a little higher, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulder. She’d had to park almost a half mile away, and she’d been hauling the table and a couple of tote bags of information about preventing predation ever since.

  Hopefully her arm wouldn’t fall off before she got around the arena to the area where vendors were allowed to set up. She’d promised her boss that she’d host an information table here at the rodeo today. It was a great opportunity to educate ranchers about keeping their livestock safe from predators. Because if there was one event guaranteed to get every rancher in the area into one place, it was the Shelter Creek Rodeo.

  Though it might be hard to find the actual ranchers in this crowd. The rodeo was never this busy when she was young. Back then
it had been a small, local event. Now it seemed to be full of tourists—parents with kids, and hordes of urban cowgirls in their lacy dresses and boots that were far too nice-looking to have ever walked on a ranch.

  An itchy sort of crankiness seemed to be crawling under Maya’s skin. Who wore white lace to a rodeo? And who were all these people?

  Though of course, it wasn’t the people that bothered her. It was the memories. Memories of being here with Caleb and their friends, every single summer since junior high. Memories of watching Caleb compete, of her pride in him, of the wonder that somehow this tough, fearless high school rodeo star had chosen her. Memories that had been hijacking her thoughts ever since she’d climbed out of her truck and started her long walk to the rodeo grounds.

  She didn’t want those memories. Didn’t want to remember what it felt like to be so in love, to be so sure of him. Not now. Not when he’d become a stranger.

  Maya rounded the back of the metal bleachers to avoid the mass of people taking their seats for the bull riding. Back here the stubbled grass was uneven and the going slow. But at least she’d avoid seeing Caleb, if he was competing.

  It was hard to imagine he wouldn’t. If anything, he seemed tougher than ever, harder than ever, like all he’d have to do is stare down whatever bull he drew. The poor creature would probably just walk meekly around the ring, with that stern, angry man on his back.

  The thought brought a smile that felt a little broken. Like her body didn’t quite know how to associate Caleb with humor. Which made sense. There certainly wasn’t anything funny about them, really. Except maybe that she was sneaking around the back of the bleachers to avoid the sight of him.

  The announcer’s voice boomed. “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats for the bull riding. These tough cowboys are going to put on quite a show for you folks. And to kick off the competition today, we have two riders who haven’t set foot in this arena in many years. We sure are glad to have them home. Folks, let’s give a warm welcome to our own PBR Event Winner, Jace Hendricks!”

  The crowd erupted into chaos. People were standing on the metal bleachers, screaming and stomping their feet in an irregular rhythm that matched Maya’s traitor heart. Because where Jace was, Caleb was. Which meant he was probably the second competitor.

  Maya smacked her ankle against the folding table and gasped. The pain shot straight up her leg and seemed to seep right out of her eyes as tears.

  No. Not going to happen. No crying over a stubbed ankle or an ex-boyfriend at the Shelter Creek Rodeo. In fact this was ridiculous. Skulking behind the bleachers like some heartsick adolescent. She was a grown woman, here to do a job.

  And why would she get heartsick over Caleb? The first time she’d seen him since coming home, he’d almost shot her. The second time he’d been so hungover, he could barely see straight. A hand on the trigger and too much time with a bottle? That sounded an awful lot like her own parents, who’d chosen their relationship with alcohol over a relationship with her every single time.

  Another thing to mourn. Caleb hadn’t been much of a drinker when she’d known him. Had Julie’s death brought that out in him? Was his drinking one more piece of the tragedy scattered across their lives like the glass on the road?

  Though he’d looked a little better when he intervened with his aunt after the town hall meeting last week. Healthier. Maybe even happier.

  The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of Jace’s ride and jolting Maya back to reality. Enough. She and Caleb were an old story with an unhappy ending. She had plenty to do in Shelter Creek besides think of him. It had been ten days since that town hall meeting, and she’d been busy preparing school presentations with Mrs. Axel and working with a few different ranchers around the area. It was exciting; most people seemed relieved that she was here, that she could give them ideas on how to coexist more peacefully with the wildlife that thrived in these remote coastal hills.

  But even though she was busy and had a lot to think about, too often her mind went to Caleb. It was a bad habit, and the only way to break a habit was to persevere. Maya shook out her ankle, hefted the table and marched forward, emerging from the shadow of the bleachers to a perfect view of the action in the arena.

  Jace was perched on the fence, waving to the cheering crowd as the announcer congratulated him on a fabulous ride. And then Jace hopped over the fence, disappearing from view, and Maya’s legs suddenly refused to move. She set the table down, set her tote bags down, her eyes glued to the chutes, unable to make out the features of the big cowboy lowering himself over the bull, but sure that it was Caleb.

  The announcer confirmed it. “Next up, that other local boy I mentioned, Jace’s best buddy, former bull-riding champion of the Shelter Creek High School Rodeo Team, this man spent over a decade serving our great nation in the Marine Corps, and now he’s home. Let’s welcome Caleb Dunne!”

  The cheers erupted all around her but Maya’s ears were ringing as if she’d stepped into her own bubble of deafening silence. The chute opened, and there in her mind was the same prayer she’d said every time she’d watched him ride when they were young. Please, protect him.

  It was a visceral prayer. It didn’t matter that she had no right to it, no connection to Caleb anymore; it was just there on her lips as his arm went up and the chute opened and the big brown bull came hopping out like some kind of crazy crow on steroids, jumping and kicking. Somehow Caleb stayed with him, strong enough that he looked graceful where others would look like a ragdoll, riding with the bull until it did a strange sideways leap that left Caleb suddenly suspended in the air.

  Maya gasped, the fear for him instinctive. But Caleb did what he’d always done when they were young. He got his legs under him and stuck the landing like an oversize gymnast.

  No need to fear for him. He landed on his feet. Always.

  Her odd, silent bubble burst as the crowd cheered and the clowns distracted the still-hopping bull. Caleb gave the bleachers a casual wave as the announcer said, “Seven-and-a-half seconds for Caleb Dunne. Not quite a winning ride but a stylish one. Let’s give him another round of applause, people, both for his great ride today and for his service to our country.”

  Maya listened to the bittersweet enthusiasm around her. Yes, they’d both landed on their feet, at least somewhat, after Julie’s death. But Caleb came home to cheering crowds, while she came home to anger and blame from him and his aunt. And she might have to face more of it today, at her wildlife-management table.

  Though, as Grandma kept reminding her, most people had been kind. And it was easy to overlook kindness when meanness made such an impact.

  Maya shook her head, trying to shake the gloom. She was here today to do a job. Not to wallow in the past or worry about what people thought. Not to stare at Caleb with a thick ache in her chest as he climbed the fence across the arena from her, accepting high fives and shoulder slaps from fellow cowboys along the way.

  Hefting her table and bags one more time, Maya wended her way through the still-cheering crowd. She might not have Caleb’s glory, but she had mountain lions and coyotes to protect. Thank goodness for work that mattered. It had eased her heartache many times before, and hopefully it would help again today.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAYA WAS SUPPOSED to set up next to the Wild Western Women hat booth, and sure enough there was an orange spray-painted X on the ground, just as the rodeo organizers had promised. She unfolded her table and positioned it on the uneven ground so it didn’t wobble too much. She was kneeling next to it, reaching for her bag full of literature, when a soft voice broke her concentration. “Maya?”

  She looked up too quickly and smacked the back of her head on the table. “Ouch!”

  “Oh no! Are you all right?”

  Maya clutched her head and squinted at the speaker, her mind still reeling from the blow. It was a woman about her age, with long, thick honey-blond ha
ir curled nicely around her shoulders and a pink blouse tucked into perfectly fitting jeans. Her pink sneakers matched her shirt.

  “I’m okay.” But that wasn’t exactly true because Maya had just realized who this woman was. “Trisha.” It came out a little more horrified than was probably polite. Trisha Gilbert. Julie’s best friend, who’d been in the accident with them. Maya’s mouth felt dry and she tried to swallow.

  “Long time no see.” Trisha twisted her fingers uneasily. “I was wondering if you’d like any help setting up your table. I’m just a couple of booths over, collecting for the scholarship fund.”

  Maya glanced where Trisha was pointing, and the throbbing in her head kicked up a beat. The sign above the booth read Please Donate to the Julie Dunne Rodeo Scholarship Fund.

  No. Her biggest fear coming here today was that someone would get upset about the accident, the way that Caleb’s aunt had. That someone would have heard and believed the old rumor that Maya had been driving drunk that night.

  And here she was, with her assigned booth just two doors down from the Julie Dunne memorial.

  Trisha was smiling, seemingly oblivious to Maya’s rising panic. “Remember how much Julie loved the rodeo? She was one of the top competitors on the high school girls’ team.”

  Maya remembered. Julie was a gorgeous rider—so skilled, she was like an extension of any horse she rode. One entire wall of her bedroom had been decorated with ribbons. Maya had loved watching her ride, and was always a little intimidated when Julie joined her and Caleb for a trail ride on the ranch.

  Maya dated Caleb for so long, Julie had felt like her younger sister too. When Caleb had asked her to pick up Julie and Trisha at the concert that night, Maya had felt a little proud, like she was family—like she was the responsible big sister, stepping in to help.

  But after the accident, while Caleb and his family and Trisha and the town mourned Julie together, Maya had mourned alone.