A Family in Wyoming

by Lynnette Kent

  Without thinking, she threw her arms around him. “Congratulations! That’s so cool!” For a second, she felt his hands on her back—a slight hug in return—but in the next moment his arms dropped to his sides. Feeling her face heat up, she stepped away. “I knew you could do it.”

  “So you won, huh?” Thomas came over. He’d been standing nearby, watching Lizzie get ready to race. “Not too hard, though, beating a bunch of girls.”

  “I heard that.” Lena stalked over to glare at him. “You’re going to wish you could beat a girl when I finish riding my bull.” Justino, as usual, stood right beside her.

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “They probably gave you the weakest one in the bunch. They’re not going to let the little girl get hurt.”

  Considering that Lena was taller than him by a head, it was a dumb thing to say. “You talk so big,” she told him. “But I’ll make it to the whistle and get a higher score than you.”

  Hands on his hips, Thomas sneered at her. “What do you want to bet?”

  “Kitchen chores. Whoever wins does the other one’s work for the rest of camp.”

  “Done. And you’ll be sorry when you’re washing dishes all the time.” He swaggered away to get a high five from Marcos and a grin from Lizzie.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing camp will be over soon,” Becky commented to Nate. “Everybody needs their own space for a while.”

  To her surprise, he shook his head. “Not me. I wish camp could go on all year. Even if it means putting up with those two. I don’t want to leave the Circle M. Especially not to live in Casper,” he finished in a low voice. He glanced over at his mom, who stood by the front left door of the truck, watching Amber pretend to drive.

  Before Becky could think of the right thing to say, Ms. Caroline came around the end of the trailer. “You two should start warming up,” she said. “Let me check to be sure your cinch is tight.”

  Next thing Becky knew, she was in the saddle and her own nerves were taking over again. Walking, jogging, running—she put Desi through his paces, making sure his muscles were ready for the cloverleaf pattern they would follow. The warm-up area had barrels set up, and she rode around them in the right order but not up to speed, reminding herself that she did know how to do this. They’d been practicing all summer.

  Lizzie went by her several times but never nodded or spoke. Becky wasn’t sure what had happened to their friendship—something about the boys just seemed to make the other girl crazy. All Becky was sure of was that it was a sad way to end what had been a fun summer.

  And then they were standing in a line outside the alley, waiting for their turns to ride. Becky’s hands were sweaty on the reins, and her hat sat too tight on her head. With her luck it would fall off, her braid would come undone and her hair would get in her eyes and she wouldn’t be able to see where they were going. Maybe Desi would remember the pattern without her?

  Lizzie was in line ahead of her. She hadn’t looked back even once. But Becky decided to make one last effort. “Good luck!” she called to her former best friend.

  After a minute, Lizzie’s shoulders lifted. She twisted around. “You, too.” But she said it without a smile.

  Sooner than Becky expected, Lizzie was next in line. She got the signal and kicked Major into a run, heading down the alley toward the arena. Ms. Caroline, standing with Mr. Ford at the fence, yelled, “Have fun!”

  Feeling almost sick to her stomach, Becky moved Desi into position, just as Lizzie came jogging back down the alley. “Awesome!” she called out as she passed.

  Becky faced her horse down the alley. Ms. Caroline yelled, “You can do it, Becky!”

  The man on the fence beside her said, “Go!”

  Pulling in a deep breath, Becky kicked her heels against her horse’s sides.

  And went.

  * * *

  AFTER HIS ENCOUNTER with Susannah, Wyatt decided to watch the show at ground level for a while. He couldn’t face questions or comments from his brothers about Amber’s plea to stay at the ranch.

  He was having enough trouble facing his own self-reproach.

  Watching Lizzie and Becky make their runs took his mind off his mistakes for a few minutes. Neither of them scored a winning time, but the fact that they raced at all said a lot about what had been accomplished on the ranch this summer. Considering that Lizzie had been scared to death of horses on the first day, having her trust her pony in a cloverleaf pattern at a run was something of a miracle. And Becky—

  “If it isn’t Wyatt Marshall.”

  He’d been expecting to run into her all day. Turning, he found her closer than he’d realized. “Hey, Marley. Nice to see you.”

  She laughed in that hearty way she had. “You always were the master of understatement. It’s good to see you, too. What brings you to a youth rodeo? Do you have kids of your own competing?”

  “I do.” In a manner of speaking, anyway.

  Marley tilted her head. “I’m glad to hear it.” Her hair was still long and shiny black, her eyes a violet blue. He thought she was using more makeup than she once had. “I’m still competing, obviously. Still winning.”

  “So I hear. You’ve made a great career for yourself.”

  Her smile held a touch of regret. Or was that just his wishful thinking? “I imagine you’re still running the Circle M.”

  “I am.”

  “Old man MacPherson got himself a treasure when he took you on. Nothing could pry you away from the ranch. Not even me.”

  “It was a tough contest, though.”

  “Don’t lie,” she said, laughing again. “And if I couldn’t peel you away from the land, I damn sure couldn’t separate you from those three brothers of yours. How are they doing?”

  “Ford’s a lawyer, Garrett’s a minister and Dylan’s an artist. Ford and Garrett are engaged. They’re all fine.”

  “Hmm.” Tapping a painted fingernail against her bright red lips, she stared at him for a moment. “Each one of them has a career outside the ranch. But not you? I seem to remember you wanting to go back to school...”

  “I’ve been too busy.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “You can’t fool me. You stayed because you didn’t want to go anywhere else. You get what you want—what you need—from those square miles of Wyoming dirt. Only your brothers matter more.”

  That wasn’t true anymore. Someone else mattered to him now. Someone for whom he’d considered breaking his oath...

  “Marley Jennings!” Wyatt got pushed to the side as a gaggle of teenaged girls rushed down on them, pens and papers in hand. “Can I have your autograph?”

  “Miss Jennings, can I take your picture?”

  “Can you pose with me?” Becky and Lizzie were part of the mob.

  Marley posed and signed and laughed, provided barrel-racing tips and wished them all good luck. “Part of the job description,” she said as the crowd dispersed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Gazing past him, she raised her eyebrows. “And who is this cowboy?”

  Wyatt pivoted to find Nate just behind him, Susannah at his shoulder holding Amber. The three pairs of blue eyes were wide with surprise.

  Nate held up his blue ribbon. “I won,” he said, grinning. “Blue and I won.”

  “I saw that.” Wyatt shook his hand. “It was a great ride.”

  Before he could introduce them all, Marley stepped in front of him. “It’s good to meet you,” she said, shaking hands with Nate and Susannah. “I’m an old friend of Wyatt’s. We go back ten years and more.” Facing him again, she put a hand on his shoulder. “I have to run—I’m presenting the ribbon for the bull-riding winner. It’s been great visiting with you, darling.” Going up on tiptoe, she gave him a kiss on the lips. “Take care of yourself. Hope I’ll see you again sometime soon.”

  A
s she hurried away, Nate said, “You know Marley Jennings? That’s too cool. She’s famous.”

  “She was a lot less famous when I knew her.” He met Susannah’s gaze. “Were you planning to watch the bull riding from the bleachers?”

  She nodded without saying anything, only shifting Amber a little higher onto her hip.

  Wyatt held out his arms. “Want me to carry her up there?”

  But Amber turned her head away from him, burying it in the curve between her mother’s neck and shoulder.

  Great. He’d lost his biggest fan.

  He waited for Susannah to go ahead of him up the steps. At least he could catch them if they fell.

  The bleachers were more crowded than they’d been all day—everyone wanted to watch the bull riding. Garrett had saved some space but just barely enough. Nate and the girls squeezed onto the front bench. Susannah sat next to Garrett with Amber in her lap, leaving Wyatt about half the room he needed. With apologies to the man on his other side, he sat down anyway.

  Susannah kept her gaze on the arena but said, “So that’s the woman who wouldn’t stay?”

  “Yes.” Something more should be said. “As you can tell, we wanted different lives.”

  “You must have been very hurt.”

  “I thought I was at the time.” The audience gave a collective groan as a competitor got thrown off his bull before the whistle. “I’ve since learned there’s worse pain.”

  He waited, but she didn’t answer.

  Thomas was the first of the Circle M contestants to ride. He came out of the gate on a bull named Desperado. Wyatt could tell how much he’d learned over the summer in the determination with which he held onto the rope and kept his seat. Once the whistle blew, he tumbled off but scrambled out of the way as the clown distracted Desperado. The Circle M kids cheered as Thomas stood in the arena with his arms raised in triumph, his big grin visible even behind his face mask.

  Marcos’s bull was HiJinks, obviously named for the jumps and spins he put the boy through. Though his style wasn’t great, Marcos held on through the whistle, which was more than most first-time riders could claim. He managed to land on his feet when he came off, but he had to run for the fence when HiJinks reeled to chase him down.

  “Thank God for rodeo clowns,” Garrett said as, once again, the clowns danced in to snag the bull’s attention. “The hardest job in the show.”

  “Amen,” Dylan replied. “They saved my butt more than once.”

  Whether by accident or design, Lena turned out to be riding the final bull of the afternoon. “This is Miss Lena Smith,” the announcer informed them, “riding Bumble. Let’s watch how a girl does it, folks.”

  “Bumble sounds like a baby cow,” Susannah said. “Do you suppose they gave her an easy ride deliberately? She’ll be furious.”

  Watching the bull banging around in the chute, Wyatt shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  The gate swung open and Bumble emerged spinning. He kicked and bucked and circled, throwing Lena around like a toy. The crowd gasped with every swing and tilt, expecting the worst, but the whistle sounded and she was still riding.

  Wyatt stood up. “Her hand’s stuck. She can’t get free.” In the next moment, Lena’s left leg was thrown over the top of the bull and he started dragging her by one arm. The clowns closed in, soothing, slowing, distracting the animal. A sigh of relief went through the crowd in the bleachers when the rigging fell off and Lena dropped to the ground, lying facedown. Garrett and Rachel had already started toward the ground.

  “That’s one tough little lady,” said the voice over the loudspeaker. “Miss Lena Smith, ladies and gentlemen. Give her a big hand.”

  But no one applauded until Lena moved. As Ford and the other men from the chute hovered around her, she got her arms under her and pushed up into a sitting position. In a few seconds, with Ford’s help, she got to her feet. As those in the bleachers clapped, she managed to wave an arm and walk slowly out of the arena.

  Nobody from the Circle M relaxed until they surrounded Lena, who had been checked out by the EMTs and by Dr. Rachel before being allowed to go to the truck. She sat sideways in the backseat, sipping juice and smiling. “I’m okay. Really.”

  Standing beside her, Justino looked worse than she did, his face still pale, his normally squared shoulders hunched. “Never,” he said quietly. And then more forcefully, “Never again.”

  As the group quieted, Lena stared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “I have endured this passion of yours,” Justino said, his eyes blazing with anger. “All summer I have watched as you risked your health and your safety over and over for this...this stupid so-called sport.” He made a cutting motion with one hand. “No more. You have ridden your last bull.”

  Silence reigned as she glared at him, her spine straight, her eyes narrowed. Wyatt crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable outburst of temper. Ford sent him a knowing glance and a nod.

  All at once, Lena subsided against the seat. “You’re right,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’ve done enough. I didn’t win, but I rode to the whistle.” She looked at Thomas. “And I got the best score out of the three of us.”

  “Yes, you did.” Grinning, Justino put his arm around her shoulders. Then, heedless of the teenagers and adults standing there watching, he bent his head to hers for a kiss.

  Everybody turned away, pretending they hadn’t seen.

  They all ate supper under the big tent where local scout troops were offering burgers and hotdogs, with brownies for dessert. Wyatt surveyed the long table and took the open spot he found between Amber and Becky, hoping to mend fences.

  He settled in and gave the little girl a chance to finish the bite of hotdog she was chewing. “Did you have a good time at the rodeo?”

  Swallowing, she nodded.

  “Which event did you like best?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Nate won the pole bending.”

  He missed the complete trust she’d once had in him. “The bull riding was pretty exciting, too.”

  Amber ate a potato chip. “I’m going to be a ballerina,” she announced when she’d finished.

  Wyatt glanced at Susannah, who was watching them out of the sides of her eyes. “When did you decide that?”

  She crunched another chip. “My mommy said that I can’t ride horses in my new house. But I can take lessons to be a ballerina. I’ll dance with my arms like this.” She raised her hands over her head in the classic pose. “And I’ll twirl around.”

  “You will be beautiful,” he told her. But the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Lost dreams, missed opportunities...regrets for a future he’d declined burned in his gut.

  “Guess I’m not too hungry,” he said to Amber. “I’ll meet you all at the truck when we’re ready to go home.”

  Their return drive to the ranch was quick and quiet. The sun set behind the Bighorn Mountains on his right-hand side, and a lopsided moon came up on the left. Susannah sat in the backseat with her daughter, who fell asleep in a matter of minutes. Dylan sat in the front but didn’t have much to say—though it had been weeks since his reporter had left, he still wasn’t his usual carefree self. Wyatt didn’t feel much like talking, anyway.

  He stopped the truck in front of the house so Garrett could help Susannah unload Amber. The kids had gotten home first and were probably already asleep in their bunks. As he glanced at the front porch, though, he saw Honey standing there, wagging her tail.

  When Garrett went to the front door, it opened with just a push.

  Wyatt shook his head. “Something’s wrong. I locked Honey inside before we left.” He put the truck in gear. “Let’s get these horses settled and then we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

  When they went through the barn to the corral, however, they found th
e gate to the field wide open.

  “What the hell?” Wyatt stared at Dylan. “I can’t believe we left that gate unlocked this morning.”

  “It gets worse,” Dylan said. “The corner gate is open, too. The horses could be anywhere in the county by now.”

  With the corner gate now shut, Wyatt went to the edge of the field and whistled for Caesar. No other horses were visible in the waning light. And Caesar, for the first time since he was a yearling, didn’t answer.

  “Take one of these horses,” Wyatt told his brother, “and ride out to the far gate. I’m betting you’ll find it’s open, as well.”

  Not bothering with a saddle, Dylan swung onto Blue and loped across the pasture. In only a few minutes, he returned.

  “You’re right. The gate was open.” He slid down from the mare’s back. “And out of the whole herd, there’s not a single horse in sight.”

  “Damn Travis Bradley,” Wyatt growled. “Damn him!”

  Chapter Nine

  With Dylan and Ford, Wyatt spent most of the chilly night riding the rangeland of the Circle M underneath that flattened circle of a moon, searching for the missing animals. Bradley hadn’t been content to simply open the gate—he must have spooked the horses and sent them running, away from their grassy field into the larger, more varied terrain of the cattle enclosures.

  Or he could have sent them out the gate by the barn, down the drive and off the ranch altogether. Wyatt hated considering that possibility. Barbed wire posed a wicked threat to panicked equines, as did gullies, ravines and fallen trees. The image of Caesar, or any of the herd, lying in some ditch with a broken leg kept his gut churning all night. As the hours passed without success, though, he began to fear that Bradley really had been that malicious.

  He returned to the barn about four in the morning, but he was already making plans to head out again in his truck as soon as it was daylight. He would call the sheriff, as well, though they had no proof that this was Bradley’s doing. A careless kid could leave a gate open. But Wyatt was certain that wasn’t the case this time. His horses wouldn’t leave their grassy home without being sorely provoked.