by Leigh Riker
Dallas grinned. “Wait till you see the next event.” It involved the adorable calves, all of which had bright red ribbons now tied to their tails. There was a lot of swishing of flies and some bovine bellowing as the sun climbed overhead into the noon sky, increasing the heat and humidity. And the smells. Elizabeth mopped at her forehead but couldn’t look away from the action. As the first calf took off running, so did the first contestant.
After saying, “It’s not calf roping or tie-down, but it’ll do,” Dallas left the fence rail to again monitor the goings-on in the ring.
Jenna explained, “The idea is to chase down the calf, then grab the ribbon. Each child who does wins a few bucks.”
Elizabeth edged even nearer to Jenna as they watched the last boy—or, no, that was a girl—sprint like a gazelle the length of the arena then hold up her ribbon, clear triumph in her eyes. Elizabeth laughed. “Good for her!”
She’d joined in the fun, but she wasn’t about to let Jordan ride sheep or chase calves, though nothing seemed as dangerous as she’d expected. She wondered if it had become more a matter of not wanting her son to have that connection with Dallas. She didn’t want Jordan to feel disappointed when Dallas left. By the time the rodeo ended, she had to admit she’d enjoyed herself. Most of all, she’d liked watching Dallas sign autographs, taking time to bend down and talk to each child in the line just as he’d made each of them feel special during the guidance he’d given them about the events. The kids all gazed up at him as if he’d truly hung the moon.
As Elizabeth walked to her car, Dallas fell into step beside her.
“You’re quite the celebrity,” she said.
“Maybe I was. My star’s not on the rise these days...but it will be again.”
Another reminder she didn’t need that he’d be gone soon, but she regretted having to walk with space between them now as if she were ashamed of being seen with him. That wasn’t fair to Dallas. Neither was keeping her news from him, but now didn’t seem to be the right place after all, and she needed time to get used to the idea herself, to rehearse exactly what to say. “Are you worried about getting back into competition?”
“It’s not like mutton bustin’, that’s for sure. And unlike these kids,” he admitted, “I get sick before I ride.”
“You do? Really?” He always seemed so confident and in charge of himself.
“Every time.”
“Know how I cope with stress? Ice cream,” she said. Last night had been dulce de leche.
Dallas laughed, then changed the subject. “Did the kids help you see things my way about our rodeo?”
“It’s not ours. It’s yours,” she insisted. “But this was really fun.”
Dallas was undeterred. “Then what would you say to a junior rodeo to go with the adult version we’re planning?” His slow grin warmed her clear through. “We’ll make more money for charity, plus the kids will have a blast.”
She sighed. “Since this rodeo is growing like Topsy, what about other competitions, even a chili cook-off—”
“Clara would like that.”
“—maybe garden produce and baked goods too.”
Dallas agreed that would make for a great day. “Jams, jellies,” he said. “Sawyer mentioned those.”
Elizabeth hadn’t planned on getting even more involved, and in spite of the good time she’d had, she was glad Jordan wasn’t here.
Which didn’t let Elizabeth off the hook with Dallas.
She had to tell him she was pregnant. Just not now.
CHAPTER NINE
“YOU WON’T RECONSIDER?” Dallas asked the guy on his cell phone on Monday morning. “It’s for a good cause.”
“But it’s not a sanctioned rodeo.” The stock contractor wasn’t having any part of Dallas’s plans, not that he should be surprised. Half a dozen previous calls, not just today, had ended the same way. Without cows and bulls, there wouldn’t be much of a rodeo, sanctioned or not. “Sorry, buddy. Wish I could help but I can’t. Besides, the date you have in mind won’t work.”
“What if I change the date? I’m not wedded to it.” Except he knew Lizzie wanted her kids there. A surprise treat for them, if not her, at the end of summer.
“My stock’s all spoken for,” the guy said. “Hope to see you on the circuit, Dallas.”
“Yeah,” he said, “right. But I hate to disappoint the good folks of Barren.”
“If I could fit you in, I would. I’m full up with contracts through December.”
Dallas hung up, then studied the ground under his feet. He scuffed at the dirt with the toe of his boot, the oldest pair he owned because work at the McMann ranch was dusty.
His brother came around the corner of the barn. “You planning to get anything done today? Or just stand there, admiring your Justins?”
“They’re not Justin Boots.” Dallas lifted his gaze to meet Hadley’s eyes. He couldn’t wear any brand except the one in his endorsement contract. “They’re Prestige.”
Hadley snorted. “You’ve been on that phone all morning. Doing what? Moving stocks and bonds around? Making investments?”
“Trying to find rodeo stock,” he said. “I’ve got a venue—at last—thanks to you and Clara, and some cowboys, but nothing for them to ride, rope or bulldog. Maybe this thing isn’t going to happen after all.”
“Huh. The sunshine boy sees a few clouds? I don’t suppose any contractor’s willing to ship stock to a place like this even for charity. I suppose you had the funds to pay but—”
“Hadley, you seem to think I’m a billionaire or something. I’m not. I had a good stash and have some investments, but they’re not liquid, and a big chunk of what I saved is gone.”
Hadley nodded. “Your parents, huh?” He knew they were Dallas’s chief concern.
“Yep. I wouldn’t change that.” He massaged the lingering slight ache in his hip. At least the cane now lived in a closet, and he’d cut his rehab to twice a week. “I can’t ride yet—even I know that—so I thought this would keep me from losing my mind until I can get back on the circuit.” And after last weekend, he kept expecting Lizzie to bail on him, leaving him to plan this thing on his own. Sure, she’d had a good time at the kids’ rodeo, even when she probably hadn’t wanted to, but he sensed something else was bothering her.
Hadley frowned. “So, what, now you’re a quitter? I almost drove away from this ranch not that long ago. I know how it feels to be down and out, deep inside yourself.” He spread his hands. “Look at me now, with a wife and kids. You ever consider retirement? How many years, how many seasons are you willing to risk yourself like that? Even without the money you’d like to earn, you’ll find a way to take care of your folks.”
Dallas studied his boots again. “I’m not ready to retire. I’m not looking to get married or, heaven forbid, have kids.” Which made him think of the children’s rodeo. Between events, Dallas had kept his eye on Lizzie, and he’d seen her cheer more than once, heard her laugh, which was like the soft tinkle of bells. And yet, with him, she kept her distance. He’d thought the awkwardness from May had eased, but maybe it hadn’t. “I won’t quit before I’ve made my mark.” He hesitated. “I’m never going to wind up like our birth parents—”
“You won’t, Dallas. We never will, and you have the Maguires.”
“I do,” he said, but that didn’t stop the memories he tried to ignore. In a heartbeat he was back there again, not with his birth family and their desperate addictions, but in that foster home, trapped in a locked room, hungry and afraid. Dallas drew a sharp breath. He didn’t want to delve into that, and Hadley must have seen the pained look on his face.
“You can take care of yourself now.” When Dallas didn’t respond, Hadley sighed. “What kind of stock do you need?”
“Everything.”
“I doubt anyone has a bucking bull to lend you, but then again, ther
e’s my Angus out there in that pasture.” Hadley pointed toward his pride and joy. “Any bull will buck, given the right encouragement.”
“Yeah, and keep on bucking, come after any rider that dares to get on him. Rodeo bulls are specialists at payback.” Especially his nemesis, Greased Lightning.
Hadley went on anyway. “What about Sutherland’s new bull? He’s a beauty. Mean as a snake—Ned, I mean, not his bull.” Having made his little joke about Nell’s grandfather, he slapped Dallas on the back. “Help me shovel manure out of these stalls, then we’ll pay some calls.”
* * *
ELIZABETH WAS JUST putting her tote bag in the office that morning when someone swept through the front entrance of Olivia’s shop, banging the door against the wall. “We’re not open,” she called, but light footsteps kept coming across the showroom. Couldn’t people read signs? She shouldn’t have left the door unlocked. Unless... “Becca? Is that you?”
Her coworker had yet to come in, and she’d called in sick once last week. Elizabeth hadn’t seen her at the kids’ rodeo on Saturday. Although concerned by her own persistent nausea, she was also beginning to worry about the girl. Just then, her own mother appeared in the office doorway, her mouth pursed.
“Are you out of your mind, Elizabeth?”
Her mouth went dry. She pushed past Claudia into the main part of the store, not wanting to get trapped behind Olivia’s desk. She wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand. “No, and I’m not in the habit of attending rodeo.” She should have known word would get around. No matter how far apart she and Dallas had kept, there couldn’t be enough space in this world between them.
“I’m not talking about that silly business at the NLS. I could care less if every child in town, other than my grandchildren, wants to ride some ridiculous sheep or chase cows—”
“They were calves.”
“—but I do care for your reputation. What were you thinking, Elizabeth, gadding about with that cowboy?” So this wasn’t really about the rodeo.
Elizabeth tried for an equally icy tone. She wasn’t her mother’s daughter for nothing. “If you’re referring to Dallas Maguire, yes, we were in the same place at the same time. That’s all.”
Claudia paced the floor, oblivious of the fragile items on the tables, sweeping out a hand to make her point. “I had coffee at the café five minutes ago, and every busybody in Barren must be eager to let me know that my daughter—after we were all disgraced less than a year ago—is apparently ‘keeping company’ with that man.” She took a breath. “The source of that quaint term was none other than—”
“Let me guess. Bernice.” The biggest gossip in town, except for Doc Baxter’s wife.
“We’re friends, which makes her comment all the more hurtful. Bernice was trying to warn me, and she meant well—”
“Warn you? Mother, there’s nothing between me and Dallas Maguire.” Well, that was a lie she hoped would not be uncovered anytime soon.
“Don’t fib to me, Elizabeth.” As if she knew Dallas wanted to be friends, and he was already more than that, though baby daddy didn’t seem to suit, even when it was true. Her mother spun around, nearly knocking a Tiffany vase off a table. “People are beginning to whisper. Do you have no regard for my position, if not yours?”
Claudia didn’t know the half of it. But this was not a new strain between them. All her life Elizabeth had been the one to take the brunt of her mother’s unhappiness. Claudia’s own divorce had devasted her—she’d never gotten over the humiliation she’d felt then. Reputation was everything to Claudia. She tended to blame Elizabeth for every bump in the road, as if she had driven her dad away.
“I know how disappointed you are in me, Mom, for becoming a divorced woman with three young children to raise.” She remembered Dallas’s comment. I wouldn’t do anything to harm you—or your kids. “But that’s my reality.” And it would only get worse once she spoke to Dallas. “I wish you could lend me support rather than this constant criticism of everything I do.”
No wonder she’d been reluctant to leave her house. Bernice watching from across the street couldn’t compare to Claudia Monroe under full sail, but her mother’s rejection hurt worse. Still, the decision to let Dallas talk her into attending last Saturday’s rodeo fell on her. And of course, so did that afternoon in May.
“My reason for watching the children’s rodeo was in part because I wanted to see what attracts Jordan—or anyone else.” Including Dallas. It was time to make her stand before this new pregnancy became yet another issue. “Also, in case you haven’t heard, Dallas is putting on an adult rodeo for charity. Possibly, you could give us suggestions as to which organization would be appropriate. I’ve agreed to help him as much as I can.”
“Help—how?”
“I might as well make use of the experience I gained with Harry. All those rummage sales, raffles, the work on his campaign.” Elizabeth could see she’d shocked her mother. “I do know how to get things done. It’s useless to try to keep my life as private as I’d like.”
“The proximity worries me,” Claudia said. “You’re a vulnerable woman and he—”
“Is an attractive man. But Mother, I have all I can do to get through my days right now, and once the children are home my hands will be even fuller. Believe me, a romance with anyone, especially Dallas, is the furthest thing from my mind. Or his,” she added. “He won’t be here long, so you needn’t worry. I’ll handle the back-office part while he attends to the actual event.”
“And where would that be?”
“Clara McMann’s ranch.”
Her mother’s face settled into deeper lines of disapproval just as Elizabeth saw Bernice Caldwell pass the front window. A quick check of the clock told her it was a few minutes after ten. The shop was now officially open for business, and she stood arguing with her difficult mother. But at least one silence had been broken.
“Mom, your friend is here. No doubt she’ll have her opinions, but I wish you’d believe me as much as you believe her.”
* * *
IN SILENCE, BECCA trailed Calvin through the rooms of a small bungalow for rent, but her footsteps dragged, and for days she’d felt incredibly weary. Today she’d missed work again. A sense of disloyalty followed her from the living room through the kitchen—much smaller than she was used to on the farm—then on into the first of two bedrooms.
Becca surveyed the room’s layout. A big bed occupied the wall opposite the double closet, where she could almost imagine her clothes hanging beside Calvin’s.
She’d never felt this way before about anyone, and his work at the McMann ranch, outdoors in the summer sun all day, had gradually replaced his former pallor with a tan. His dark hair had a few highlights now, and Becca resisted an urge to sweep a stubborn lock off his forehead. “Well?” he said.
She lowered her voice. The Realtor stood nearby, not that close but still able to hear their conversation. “It’s cute, but I think we should keep looking.”
“You don’t like this house? I like it.” He peered past her through the window. “Small but way better than my apartment above the hardware store. We won’t have to buy much furniture, and there’s a good-sized yard out back. We could fence it and get a dog.”
Calvin slipped an arm around her shoulders. Becca automatically leaned into his strength, inhaling the scent of his aftershave, spicy yet not overpowering. He was her first real boyfriend, but were they taking things too fast? Only a short time ago, she’d thought she couldn’t move out of her family’s home quick enough to be with him, and now she was having second thoughts. “You were the one who wanted to do this,” he said.
But was she ready, after all, to leave her father? The notion of his living alone broke her heart. Who would cook for him? Share cleaning chores and laundry? Sit with him in the evenings while they watched television and tried to figure out who’d really murdered the victim on
The First 48? Every night, he’d be sleeping in the house without her there. She was already gone more than he liked. Would he feel abandoned? Or worse? She knew what he thought of Calvin.
He edged toward the hallway. “Let’s talk outside.” He glanced at the Realtor. “We’ll be back in a minute. Want to take a look at the yard.”
The woman wore a faint frown, as if she too sensed Becca’s new hesitation.
The outdoor space was big, though there were bare spots in the lawn under the large maple tree. “There’ll be good shade,” she pointed out, “but the grass needs work.”
“Becca, I thought you wanted to live together. Now I can tell you’re not sure.”
She drew a breath. “Calvin, let’s not jump into this, okay? There might be a house closer to Clara’s so you wouldn’t have to drive as far every day to work and I’d be near my dad’s.”
His gaze sharpened. “Why? So you could run home to him whenever something’s not going right with us?”
“I’m worried he’ll feel lonely.”
“Okay, but he doesn’t like me. I know I made some poor decisions, but I did what the law required, Becca.” His mouth tightened. “I may not be a big prize, and I don’t have much, but if we pool what we each make, we’ll have our start. Or don’t you really care about me?”
“I love you, Calvin. But we shouldn’t rush into anything.”
“That’s a mixed message. And I’m not good at reading those,” he said.
Becca’s stomach churned. “It’s not as if everyone in Barren wants to rent this house. I like it okay, but let’s wait a few days. See if we feel the same way about it then before we tell the Realtor we’ve decided.” A dozen scenarios kept running through her mind. What if she moved in with him and they couldn’t agree on anything? Like this place right now? And signing a lease with Calvin might send her dad over the edge.
