“Better to be here,” she smiled at Lyric. “I missed you.” She turned her head and looked in the direction of the bucking chutes. “All of you.”
“He’s been ridin’ like shit.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“RodeoChat.”
“Right on girlfriend,” Lyric high-fived her. “I knew it.”
“Which cowboy are you watching tonight?”
“You know me Tristan, I watch ’em all, but the one whose time I care the most about is a bulldogger.”
“Which one?”
Lyric rolled her eyes. “Slade Weston, but I bet you already knew that.”
“Yeah, I kinda’ figured.”
“Wait until later and we get a jam goin’ wherever we end up celebratin’. That man has a voice as smooth as silk, and the songs he writes—damn, they’re good.” Lyric fanned her face and her cheeks turned pink.
Tristan liked seeing her this way, for two reasons. One she’d liked seeing Lyric so happy. Two, if Lyric was distracted by Slade, she wouldn’t be paying so much attention to Bullet and her.
***
Bullet put on his protective vest, kissed the tips of two fingers, and touched them to the spot he saw on his chaps where Tristan embroidered her initials. It would have been easy to miss, but when he was removing the McCullough Cowboy tag, something in the detail caught his eye. It was a small heart, and the initials “TdM.” He couldn’t wait to ask her what the “d” stood for. When he did, she’d know he found her little love note.
“Where’s your head now?” asked Buck, who Bullet hadn’t seen sitting on the back of the chute.
“This bull is mine.”
Bullet didn’t lie. After a near-perfect eight second ride, Bullet’s score came in at eighty-eight.
“Eight for eighty-eight,” he overheard Buck say to Bill. The two men were all smiles when Bullet walked back behind the chutes. When he glanced over to the box, Tristan blew him a kiss.
“Dottie used to do that,” mused Bill. “Always made me feel like I was on top of the world.”
“I know that feeling,” Bullet smiled.
“Hell Bullet, when you break a losing streak, you go all out, don’t ya?” joked Bill.
“It’s his career best,” answered Buck, who seemed to be studying another bull rider. “Come on up here Bullet, I want you to see this.”
Buck and Bullet sat on the back of the chute and studied the final five bull riders. With each rider Buck asked Bullet to tell him what the cowboy did right, and what he did wrong.
“You should do this every time you enter a bull buckin’, even when you’re practicin’. Watch the guys who aren’t riding well just as much as you watch the earnings leaders.”
Bullet could feel his body leaning in the direction of the box where Tristan sat. It was almost as though there was a magnetic pull between their bodies. What Buck had to say was more important though. He looked around the chutes and could see visible envy on the face of every other rider. Buck Bishop was in the house, and he was coaching Bullet.
“Are you Bullet Simmons?” one of the cowboys shouted over to him.
“Yep. Who’s askin’?”
The cowboy walked over the chute where Bullet and Buck were. “I’m Walter Harris,” he reached up to shake Bullet’s hand.
Huh. Walter Harris. The name didn’t sound familiar to him. And if Buck knew him, he wasn’t in the mood to say hello. He didn’t even look the cowboy’s way.
“We have a mutual friend,” said Walter.
“That right? Well, I’ll tell you. I’ve got a hell of a lot of friends here tonight.”
“This one’s pretty damn special though.”
“Oh yeah?” Clearly this Walter fella was talking about a lady. “What’s her name?”
“Tristan McCullough.”
Was this the asshole that turned her heart forever black toward bull riders? Given his smirk, Bullet would lay odds it was. What the hell did he want?
***
“We’re goin’ back out to Billy and Renie’s tonight. Pretty quiet out there, not to mention the only neighbors are here with us anyway,” Lyric told her.
Tristan wasn’t sure her daddy and granddad would be up for it. Although her father had confessed listening to Cochran and Satin earlier. Maybe he’d be all for it.
“I’m Lyric and Bullet’s grandmother. Everyone calls me Gram.”
“Hugh McCullough Senior,” Tristan’s grandaddy answered. “That one there belongs to me.” He pointed at Tristan. “And you aren’t gonna believe this, but everyone calls me Gramps.”
“I don’t know about you Gramps, but I’d just as soon sit on the porch and listen to sounds of the prairie tonight.”
Tristan’s granddad smiled. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Lyric volunteered to take them to Bullet’s place, but Bill and Dottie insisted they come with them. “It doesn’t get much better than sittin’ on our deck and enjoying such a beautiful summer night,” said Dottie.
Tristan looked around, but hadn’t seen Bullet since the rodeo ended. He would go to Billy’s, wouldn’t he? Since his parents would be there.
“Where’s Grey?” Tristan asked Lyric.
“Bullet took him to stay with Callie’s parents for the week. They miss him like crazy, ya know? Wait. Do you know who Callie is?”
“Grey’s mother. I know Lyric.”
“Oh good. That would be a downer of a story to have to tell you tonight.” Lyric pointed toward the barns. “Look there. You think there are any finer lookin’ cowboys at this rodeo? I sure don’t.”
Slade and Bullet were walking toward them. Each had their own unique swagger, and Lyric was right, there wasn’t likely anyone better looking than the two of them here tonight.
“Who’s that?” Lyric pointed in a different direction. “I ain’t lookin’ right now, but if I was, that cowboy would be on my dance card tonight.”
Tristan looked over and squinted. Who was that? He looked familiar…oh no. “Uh Lyric, let me tell you, Slade Weston has everything goin’ on, and that man has nothin.’”
“Really? From here he looks pretty damn hot.”
“He may be hot, but it’s because he spends all his time in hell.”
“Huh?”
Tristan looked away. “That man is the devil Lyric. Stay as far away from him as you can.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, you do.” Tristan didn’t need to explain further. Lyric got it. The man they were talking about was Tristan’s ex. Fortunately Lyric didn’t ask his name. It occurred to her that Walter hadn’t ridden tonight. Tristan opened up her program and looked at the bull riding page. His name wasn’t on it. Odd. What was he doing here if he wasn’t riding?
***
Bullet knew Tristan had seen Walter, but he wouldn’t acknowledge he’d spoken to him. Best to pretend the guy didn’t exist. He was pretty sure Tristan was thinking the same thing. The look of disdain she had on her face when she watched Walter Harris head toward the barn immediately turned to a smile when she saw Bullet. “That’s what I like to see,” he said.
“What?”
“That beautiful smile. Those eyes that draw me in and make me want to look at nothin’ else for the rest of my life.”
“Nothing else?”
Bullet put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in close. “Before I make a mess of this, tell me, is it okay to kiss you out here in front of God and everybody, or are we still a secret?”
Tristan leaned over, kissed Bullet’s cheek, and gave him a sweet smile.
He’d be keeping the more heated stuff at bay until she gave him the all clear. He wasn’t going to push her in any way. If he did, she might leave, and that would break his heart all over again.
“We’ve got some celebratin’ to do ol’ Bullet.” Billy Patterson slapped him on the back. Bullet was so happy tonight even Billy wouldn’t get to him.
“Back to our place, right darlin’?” Billy said to Reni
e.
“God yes,” she answered. “Mom is taking Willow and Sutter over to Bill and Dottie’s tonight. I pumped breast milk every chance I got so I could have a cocktail.”
“Oh, I hoped to see the baby,” sighed Tristan.
“You can see him all you want tomorrow. You can hold him all you want tomorrow.” Renie smiled. “I say that now, but tonight is the first time I’ll be away from him, so you probably won’t be able to pry him out of my arms tomorrow.”
Bullet watched Tristan talk to Renie, and to his sister. She fit in with this bunch even better than he did. He wondered if she missed them when she was in New York. They sure as hell missed her.
“You up for this?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. Things are way too quiet at home. Plus, the chance to be in a room with three legends of rock? Who would want to miss that?”
“My gram, your gramps.”
“How about that? It was sweet of her to recognize it wouldn’t be his thing. Something tells me it’s just the kind of night she’d enjoy.”
“You’re right, she would,” Bullet laughed. “She’s a firecracker, ain’t she?”
***
Tristan had never seen so many guitars in one place, and all of them were acoustic. Mark, Caleb and Ben each had a stool, and then right behind them, their own rack of instruments.
“Tonight will be the first time anyone but the three of us have heard these songs,” Ben told them.
“And they’re damn good,” added Caleb.
“These two jokers think we should go on tour,” added Mark. He had been away from touring and the music business for two decades. He still wrote music, and made a hell of a lot of money at it, but he kept his involvement quiet by writing under a nom de plume.
“Liv should be here,” Tristan whispered to Bullet.
“She is.”
Liv walked in the door while the guys were still tuning guitars and testing sound equipment. She came over and sat next to Tristan.
“I was just saying to Bullet that you should be here.”
“Dottie agreed. She informed me Sutter was just as much her grandson as mine, and she’d be the first to get to watch him overnight since she was the oldest.”
“Really?” Tristan thought that was an odd way of looking at it.
“She was teasing, of course. Although she is the oldest,” smiled Liv. “Dottie is like a second mother to me, and has always been like a grandmother to Renie. And now here we are…in-laws.”
The guys started to play their first song, “Mountain Harmony.” Their sound was so different from what Tristan expected. Their voices blended beautifully. She supposed that most heavy metal rock songs started out this way. Simple voices, unplugged, melodic.
Lyric got up and went to the front door. Slade Weston walked in, guitar in hand.
“Did you know he played guitar?” whispered Bullet.
“Lyric mentioned something about it.”
“I have a feeling he’s gonna be way out of his league with these guys.”
Before they started the next song, Ben invited Slade to join them. And proved Bullet wrong.
“Where’re you stayin’ tonight?” Bullet asked Tristan, but was looking over at her father.
“Lyric was gracious enough to offer to let us stay at her place tonight when she heard we had booked a hotel in Colorado Springs.”
“I guess sneakin’ in your window would be out of the question.”
“My daddy and granddad have concealed carry, so I wouldn’t recommend you trying.”
Bullet pulled her close and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Damn. I want to be alone with you Tristan. I missed you so much.”
“I know.”
“Think we can make it happen one day this week?”
Tristan shook her head. “I don’t see how Bullet.”
Shit. That was bad news.
“Bullet, please don’t…”
Oh no. More bad news. “Let’s go outside a minute.” He pulled her with him toward the door leading to the outside deck.
“Please don’t what?”
“I was going to say please don’t worry about it. We’ll find the time. What did you think I was going to say?”
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him. “Something about please don’t do this, or please don’t expect anything from me.”
“I haven’t been fair, have I?”
“No, you’ve been fine. The chaps…hey that reminds me. What’s the ‘d’ stand for?”
“You saw it?” She smiled so sweetly. God, he loved this woman. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to tell her so.
“I did.”
“Daughtry. It was my mama’s maiden name.”
“It’s beautiful.” Bullet pulled Tristan over to the Adirondack chairs. He sat, and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.
“Tell me about her.”
***
Under the starlit sky, Tristan told Bullet everything she remembered about her mother. At first she wasn’t sure she could. She never talked to anyone about the woman who loved her more than anything, and vice versa.
Tristan saw her mother everywhere she looked, in every beautiful thing God made. She could still hear her voice whisper to her, especially when she was feeling all alone. And if she closed her eyes real tight, and concentrated real hard, she could still imagine how it felt to have her mother’s arms around her.
She told Bullet the first time Dottie hugged her, she cried. Dottie hugged the same way her mama did, all in. It wasn’t just Dottie’s arms wrapped around you, she wrapped you in her love too.
Her mother loved to draw, and taught Tristan how to draw. She still had some of the dresses her mother made for her when she was growing up.
“That’s why you became a clothing designer.”
Tristan nodded. “She never used a store-bought pattern.” Tristan told him her mother would draw the dress, and then take it apart in her mind, drawing each piece on what would become her own hand-drawn pattern.
“I bet she’d be so proud of you.”
“I like to think she is. Sometimes I feel as though it isn’t my hand drawing. Or sometimes I look back through the pages, and I’ll see a design I don’t remember drawing.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I miss her so much Bullet.”
He gathered her closer still. “I know you do darlin’.”
***
Tristan was quiet for a while, but then said something Bullet didn’t expect.
“The bull rider, you know, the one who broke my heart. He was there tonight.”
“I know.”
Tristan sat up. “How do you know?”
“He approached me. Introduced himself.”
“What else did he say?”
Bullet wasn’t sure whether to tell Tristan the full extent of their conversation, but decided that with her, even white lies wouldn’t fly. “He said he knew you, and that you were somebody very special.”
Tristan looked up at the sky, but didn’t speak. He could feel the tension in her shoulders.
“That was all he said. I’m not sure if it was meant as a warning, or what.”
“I don’t know why he’s here. He didn’t enter.”
After the cowboy walked away, Bullet asked around. No one seemed to know who he was, or why he was behind the chutes. No one except Buck.
“He’s a dirty rider,” Buck told him. “Glad to see he wasn’t entered here.”
“If he’s not entered, what’s he doin’ here? Cowboy Christmas and all.”
Buck told him he couldn’t say for sure, but he’d heard talk that there had been thefts at several of the rodeos where Walter Harris was. No one could prove it was him, but he was a suspect. “He’s down on his luck. Hasn’t ridden well at all for the last couple years.”
“You think he’s casin’ this rodeo?”
“I can’t say, but why would a fella who’s been a contender in years past, not
compete at every rodeo he could this time of year?”
Bullet agreed. It didn’t make sense. But then again, Buck didn’t know about Walter’s past relationship with Tristan. Maybe that was the real reason the cowboy was in town.
“Buck knew him,” Bullet finally said to Tristan. “Said he was dirty. Also said there’s folks who think he’s responsible for thefts at other rodeos he’s been to.”
Tristan shuddered. “I can’t believe I was ever with him. How did I judge him so badly?”
Bullet could answer that, but wouldn’t. If he had he would’ve said it was because he was charming, and women like Tristan were easy to read. She was an easy mark. Just enough spunk to be tough, but when it came to men, an innocent. Instead of the usual buckle bunnies, Tristan was a nice girl, a real cowgirl. A challenge. Guys like Walter preyed on girls like Tristan. There’d been a time Bullet was one of them. If Bullet told her any of that, he’d just confirm her fears about getting involved with him.
“Bullet?”
“Yeah darlin’?”
“I’m sorry I ever compared you to Walter. You’re nothing like him.”
Bullet wished Tristan hadn’t said that. He had no choice, he had to tell her the truth. Even if it meant he was going to lose her.
***
1980
“Where would you like to celebrate our anniversary this year sweetheart?”
Bill had continued competing on the rodeo circuit and the two traveled often, especially around Colorado and the mid-west. Sometimes Clancy and his mama would travel with them. But he never entered a rodeo the week of their anniversary.
Every year for the last eight, Bill planned a trip for just the two of them. Being home only reminded him of Dottie’s terrible accident two days after their wedding. He was sure Dottie thought about it too.
“I want to stay home this year Bill,” Dottie was looking out the window, toward the main house where Clancy and Jane still lived.
“Why don’t we go to Gunnison? I’m sure some of your high school friends still live in town.”
“Bill, I need you to sit down.”
“Why?”
“Just sit. There’s something I need to tell you.”
And Then You Dare (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 5) Page 21
