The Cowboy's Christmas Baby

by Cathy McDavid

  “Tanner?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “What? No! Are you sure?” He couldn’t be letting her off this easy. “I promised you I’d stay quiet, and I didn’t last more than a few days.”

  “As long as they don’t bring it up in front of my parents, we’ll be fine. You did warn them not to?”

  “Of course!”

  “Okay,” he repeated.

  She studied his face with its rigid, bristled jaw. Was that the start of a new beard? With him coming clean soon, no reason he couldn’t go back to his former look.

  “You’re mad at me,” she said.

  “I’m not mad.”

  “You should be. I screwed up.”

  “Getting mad won’t solve anything.”

  How could he be so darn understanding? If the situation were reversed and he’d been the one to break a promise, she’d be furious with him.

  He startled her by reaching for her hand. “We’ll get through this, Jewel.”

  “Will we?”

  “All right. I’d rather your folks didn’t know yet. But I’m kind of glad, too. I never liked them thinking poorly of me.”

  “Me, neither.” She dared to smile a little.

  “They’ll be here in, what, three days? You must be excited to see them.”

  “I am.”

  Glad for a change in subject, she babbled on about her parents’ house hunting plans and Christmas Day brunch. Tanner made the appropriate responses at the appropriate places, being far nicer to her than she deserved.

  “I had something interesting happen today,” he said when she was done. “Rosalyn cornered me while I was loading my equipment in the truck. She suspects Daniel’s lying to her.”

  “Oh, dear. What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” Tanner slowed as he merged onto the freeway. “It’s Daniel’s place to tell her, not mine.”

  “Or, I could tell her, seeing as I have a big mouth.”

  “Very funny.” The genuine grin he sent her eased her residual concerns. “It gets crazier. Dad spotted me sneaking off to the barn and confronted me. I admitted I was competing tonight.”

  “I bet he wasn’t happy.”

  “Not at first. I told him I was sick and tired of him always holding the lawsuit over my head and I’d sign my shares in the company over to him or Daniel if that would stop him.”

  “How’d he take that?”

  “Better than I thought he would. He actually backed down a little.”

  Jewel couldn’t contain her happiness. Tanner standing up to his dad and entering the bull riding tonight were big steps toward a life free of the chains around his neck. Unfortunately, the good feeling didn’t last.

  “I’m going to talk to the livestock manager tonight,” he said. “About a bull riding instructor position.”

  She thought he must have lost his mind. What she said was, “Is that a good idea? He’s probably heard about the cheating scandal.”

  “We’ll see.”

  We’ll see? What kind of answer was that? “You can bet some of the students have heard. They may not like you or respect you or want a confessed cheater for an instructor.”

  “It’s just an idea. No big deal.”

  She could see he’d been counting on her sharing his excitement and that she’d disappointed him.

  “Maybe you should wait until you’ve come clean.”

  “You made your point,” he snapped. “I won’t talk to the manager.”

  Great. She’d screwed up again. “I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Are you?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I don’t like thinking you’re manipulating me.”

  She nearly came off the seat. “I’m doing no such thing.”

  “No? Telling your parents feels a little like your way of applying pressure, getting me to come clean faster.”

  Had she? “I swear, that’s not what happened.”

  “You haven’t believed in me for a long time, Jewel. It can’t be easy changing.”

  “I do believe in you.” I do. Really. I want to...

  He switched the radio to a different station. “How’s Ava today?”

  For the rest of the drive, they stuck to small talk. Tanner was about to climb on the back of an eighteen-hundred-pound bull. He didn’t need to be distracted by an argument with her. Maybe she should have waited until later tonight to tell him about her blunder. Too late now.

  They reached Cave Creek a short time later. Jewel had never been before and was struck by the similarities to Mustang Valley. Along with the Old West atmosphere, there were modern-day watering holes, cowboy-themed tourist attractions and people on horseback riding through the center of town.

  The Cave Creek Rough Stock Rental Company was located a few miles outside of town to the east. Judging by the crammed visitor parking lot, the distance wasn’t a deterrent for attendees.

  Tanner had explained that the company’s main business was renting bucking stock to rodeos. Nearly two decades ago, the owner had started a bull and bronc riding school. With the success of that, he’d later added amateur events.

  “Supposedly, this is where the owner of the Poco Dinero got her idea to have bull riding and barrel racing events,” Tanner said.

  Jewel studied the rustic building, which resembled those from old TV Westerns she’d watched as a child. Behind it, the top rows of the arena stands were visible above the roofline. “I bet the owner doesn’t like having competition.”

  “Given the size of this crowd, I don’t think it’s a problem.”

  A large banner strung across the front of the main building advertised the Holiday Extravaganza Jackpot. Arrows pointed out where to park, where to eat, where the restrooms were located and where to sign in. Jewel noted there were only two horse trailers in the parking lot. Unlike barrel racing, bull and bronc riders didn’t require their own mounts to compete.

  Tanner went to the back of his truck and removed the canvas cases containing his gear and safety equipment. Together they started toward the main building, Jewel slinging her camera bag over her shoulder. Her goal was to get some pictures of Tanner but, as always, she’d keep her eyes peeled for any interesting photo opportunities.

  Before they parted, she gave him a hug. It turned into a lingering kiss that erased most of her earlier concerns about the state of their relationship.

  “Stay safe.”

  He sifted his hands through her hair. “I’ll look for you in the stands.”

  At the entrance, she paid for her admission while Tanner headed around the side to where the participants registered. Making her way up the steps to the only available seats in the top rows, she searched for any unfriendly glances aimed in her direction and noticed none. That was a good sign.

  Once seated, she removed her camera from the case and began taking pictures—mostly to keep herself occupied and her nerves under control.

  She jerked and let out a small gasp when the PA system crackled to life and the first bulls made their noisy entrance into the bucking chutes, angrily kicking and snorting.

  The crowd cheered when cowboys on horseback rode into the arena. It was their job to pull the rider off the bull if necessary, release the bucking strap and then herd the bull to the gate at the far end of the arena. The cowboys were followed by the bullfighters, always a crowd favorite in their colorful jerseys and face paint. Their highly dangerous job was to distract the bull from the rider with often humorous antics, allowing him to scramble to safety.

  She suddenly didn’t care about rude remarks or mean glances. All she wanted was for Tanner to be safe and come through his ride in one piece. It was all she’d ever wanted.

  * * *

  “YOU HAVE A lot of nerve, Bridwell, showing your face here. Or within a mile of any rodeo arena.” The
man stared down Tanner, hands braced on his chaps-clad hips, a menacing scowl darkening his features.

  “You’d better watch your back,” the man’s buddy warned, a clenched fist raised.

  The angry pair weren’t the only competitors unhappy to see Tanner. Three more stood outside the bucking chutes at the Cave Creek Rough Stock Rental Company looking ready to join in at the least provocation.

  He wasn’t intimidated—he’d expected this kind of welcome. He was, however, on guard. He avoided fights, which were a not an uncommon occurrence at rodeos where emotions ran high. They rarely solved anything, and he’d walk away if necessary, taking the hit to his pride.

  “I’m just here to practice like the rest of you.” He mustered what he hoped was a friendly I-don’t-want-any-trouble smile.

  “You ain’t thinking of getting back in the game?” the first guy said, his tone threatening. He was about Tanner’s height, though a bit wirier, something he compensated for by puffing out his chest.

  “I’d be a fool to be thinking that, wouldn’t I?”

  Truthfully, he’d thought about it a lot lately. But until the PRCA lifted his ban and Daniel came clean, events like the one tonight were all he could participate in.

  “Nobody wants you here,” the second guy said.

  “Hey, man. I paid my entry fee. The cashier didn’t have a problem taking my money.”

  Tanner had opted not to talk to the manager about the instructor position—a smart decision based on the treatment he was getting. Jewel had been right. He had enough problems on his plate and had no business courting more.

  “I’m up soon. Keep an eye on him.” The first man elbowed his buddy. “Make sure he doesn’t get alone with the judge.”

  The second man, a shorter, burlier version of the first one, barked an ugly laugh. “Ain’t happening.”

  At this rate, Tanner would be on his own. No one to help him with his bull rope or keep an eye on the bull during the dangerous mounting or, most importantly, lend moral support.

  He told himself it didn’t matter. He was here to prove his commitment to Jewel and their future, not to win or even get a high score.

  Darn it, but he missed Daniel and the relationship they’d once had. Even when vying for the same win, they’d always been there for each other.

  Walking toward the arena fence, he scanned the stands. He spotted Jewel sitting near the top, no one occupying the seats on either side of her. Was she purposely avoiding people? God, he hoped not. The temptation to call her hit him hard, but he resisted. He needed to focus.

  Hooking a boot on the lower rung of the fence, he hauled himself up in order to watch. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jewel taking pictures. Good. All must be well.

  While waiting for his number to be called, he studied the performance of the bulls and their riders. Several of the men, like the ones who’d confronted him earlier, were semiprofessional locals. For them, rodeo was a hobby rather than a full-time passion. He recognized a handful of retired champs who were recapturing the addictive jolt of adrenaline from their younger days or perhaps practicing for one of the senior-pro rodeos.

  He had no idea how well he’d do tonight. He prayed muscle memory would kick in. Then again, it had been a full year, and he was sorely out of practice. In hindsight, he should have practiced on a mechanical bull a few times before attempting the real thing.

  The jolt to his system when his number was finally called had him hopping off the fence, his boots hitting the hard ground with a thud. Ignoring the laser glares from the two men—both had gone already and done passably well—he made his way to the chutes. A few minutes remained to ready himself, and he’d need every one of them.

  While watching the stockmen guide the bull he’d drawn—a pure-black burly brute named Haboob—into the chute, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Tanner cranked his head around to meet the gap-toothed grin of a young cowboy he’d watched compete earlier.

  “Need a hand?” he asked. “Name’s Cory.”

  “You sure about this?” Tanner eyed his new friend skeptically. “I’m not very popular around these parts.”

  “I ain’t looking to make any friends.”

  “Are you looking to make a few enemies? Because you might.”

  “Got me an ulterior motive,” Cory admitted sheepishly. “I was hoping you’d give me some pointers when you’re done. Ain’t nobody can hang on like you, ’ceptin’ maybe your brother.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Tanner was grateful for the assistance and the conversation. Both took his mind off his lack of practice and boosted his confidence. He climbed onto the chute containing Haboob and rechecked the fasteners on his protective vest. Satisfied, he swung his right leg to the other side of the chute and balanced himself directly above Haboob’s back. The animal instantly tensed, nervous energy pulsating through him.

  He wasn’t the only one. Tanner’s muscles were hard as concrete.

  “I probably should have tried this at least once before tonight.”

  Cory straddled the chute alongside Tanner. “Like riding a bike.”

  “Yeah, says who?”

  Tanner carefully lowered himself onto Haboob’s back. Instantly, the bull jerked and shimmied, bashing his horns into the metal sides and creating an enormous clamor.

  Tugging on the end of his glove, Tanner slipped his palm under the bull rope’s braided handle and wrapped the loose end once around his hand.

  He then directed his entire attention onto the top of Haboob’s head and cleared every thought except those of him and the bull and their cannon launch from the chute. In the distance, as if through a tunnel, he heard someone holler his name. They weren’t cheering him on.

  Cory slapped him on the back. “You got this.”

  Did he? Tanner wasn’t sure.

  He uttered a silent prayer, raised his left arm over his head and nodded to the cowboy manning the chute door, signaling he was ready.

  The chute door flew open with a sharp clang. At the exact same instant, Haboob launched his entire eighteen hundred pounds into the arena. His back legs shot straight up like a rocket, and his head dipped so low his nose nearly touched the ground.

  Tanner instinctively adjusted his weight and centered himself on Haboob’s back, his fingers gripping the braided handle tighter and his heels digging into the bull’s shoulders. Leaning back, he encouraged the bull to buck higher and harder. Haboob obliged. He jerked sideways and spun in a tight circle, knocking Tanner about and jarring his insides until he was convinced his lungs were where his stomach should be. By some small miracle, he held on, but he never achieved the exact right rhythm.

  Dimly, he heard the buzzer sound. He’d made it! He’d lasted eight seconds. Releasing the bull rope, he threw himself off Haboob and scrambled away through the deep dirt on shaky legs. The bullfighters flashed across his line of vision as they attempted to distract Haboob. By the time Tanner slipped through the side gate, the cowboys on horseback were herding the bull toward the opposite end of the arena.

  Catching his breath, his hand automatically went to his head, and he discovered he still wore his hat. Fancy that. He’d stayed on and kept his hat.

  There’d been only a smattering of applause and cheers from the stands at the end of his ride, along with a few boos.

  Brushing off his jeans, he again sought out Jewel. She was on her feet, her camera dangling from her neck. He could tell from her posture and stance that she’d been worried. He considered waving but refrained, preferring not to draw attention to her. He instead looked at the scoreboard. After a few seconds, a seventy-three appeared. Not great. Not embarrassing. Tanner could tell the ride had been far from his best.

  He’d get better, if he continued to practice and attend events like this one. And, he knew with sudden certainty, he would. Whether professionally or not, Tanner would continu
e bull riding. He hadn’t been ready when he’d been forced to retire. He still wasn’t.

  With only a few competitors left, he decided not to stick around.

  “Good ride, cowboy,” Cory called and hopped down from his perch on the arena fence.

  They met up and chatted briefly about what Tanner had done right during his ride and what he’d done wrong. He liked the young cowboy, and they agreed to stay in touch.

  Shaking his hand, Tanner said, “See you around.”

  “Count on it.”

  He didn’t get far before he was approached by the two cowboys from earlier. One had finished with a score close to Tanner’s. The other had done better.

  “Guess you didn’t cheat this time, Bridwell,” the first one said. “Not with those numbers.”

  Tanner refused to engage them. Instead, he tugged on the brim of his hat and started off. “Have a nice Christmas.”

  “If you’ve got a lick of sense, you won’t come ’round here again.”

  What he’d give to tell the jerk where to shove it. Words fought for escape, but Tanner bit down hard.

  He started ahead a second time, only to draw up short. Not because of the cowboys. Jewel was hurrying straight for him, a radiant smile on her lovely face.

  “You did great.”

  His arms went around her, and he drew her close. This exact same scene may have played out hundreds of times before, but today, for Tanner, it felt brand-new.

  They still fit together perfectly, his chin the exact right height to rest on the top of her head. Her cheek found his chest and lay against it as her arms squeezed.

  They stood like that for indeterminable moments, reveling in the sweet comfort of holding each other—until they were interrupted.

  “Fancy that, his partner in crime is with him.”

  Apparently, the pair of cowboys weren’t done harassing him.

  The taller one shouldered his buddy. “The way I heard it, she helped him cheat by cozying up to the judge.”

  Nothing could have been further from the truth, and Tanner’s blood boiled. He could take whatever mud they chose to sling at him. But he wouldn’t allow them to mistreat or malign Jewel.