A loud “humph” came from Barb as she filled a bowl with ice water and carried it to the table. She gently placed his hand inside. Kash sucked in air through his teeth.
“I’ve told you before, son, not all women are like your mother. You’ve got to get over the idea they’ll all break your heart.” Frank sat down across from Kash and took the cup of coffee Barb held out to him. “What can we do to make things right with your girl?”
“I already said she’s not my girl.” Kash flexed his fingers and bit back a moan.
Frank chuckled. “And because she’s not your girl, you spent all night driving home to thrash your brother for kissing the inspector’s wife?” Frank gave Barb a smug look. “I’m not buying it.”
“Leave Celia out of it.” Kash grimaced at Barb’s triumphant smile.
“That’s a beautiful name. Did I hear Ransom say something about red hair? Is she pretty?” she asked.
Kash sighed. Barb would relentlessly hound him unless he shared a few details. “She’s gorgeous, smart, funny, sassy, stubborn, and everything I never knew I wanted in a woman — if I was in the market. Which I’m not.” He pinned his father with a cool blue gaze. “Dad, you’ve got to do something about Ransom. It’s not worth it to have him go ahead of us. I spend the first day I’m at a rodeo putting out fires he’s started and assuring everyone we are a professional operation. If he’d just stick to PR, it would be fine, but he drinks too much. He uses the work as a means to provide him with unlimited opportunities for a good time.”
“I know, Kash. I keep hoping your brother will grow up and take on some responsibility.” Frank sipped his coffee. “But I meant what I said. If the two of you can’t work together, I’m gonna have to sell the company.”
“Then sell it to me. I love this business. It’s what I was born to do. I can take it to the next level, but only without Ransom hanging around my neck like a cumbersome noose.”
Barb hooted with laughter as she cracked eggs into a skillet.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that you can make this company a bigger success than I ever dreamed of, but you’ve got to do it with Ransom or not at all.”
Kash sighed. “Why, Dad? Just give me one good reason.”
“Because he’s your brother. That should be reason enough.” Frank stood and walked out of the kitchen.
Barb set a glass of milk in front of Kash and patted the shoulder that wasn’t bruised. “Don’t worry. Your dad will come around one of these days. He worries about Ransom. That boy is completely worthless. What would he do if your dad quit sending him out to do the promotional stuff?”
“I don’t know, Barb, but I’m at the point that I don’t care. Ransom has turned into such a selfish, spiteful person. I can’t understand why Dad wants him to be the face of our company. It’s hurting our business and our reputation.”
“I know, hon. Just hang in there. Your father will have to face facts soon. Whether he’ll admit it or not, he knows things can’t continue with Ransom the way they have been the last few months.” Barb slid an omelet onto a plate and set it in front of Kash. “Eat your breakfast then get some rest. I think you’ve more than earned it.”
Chapter Seven
Two weeks had passed since Celia attended a rodeo. On her way home from Portland, she made a last minute detour and spent a week with her brother and his family.
She and Kaley made dozens of jars of jam with the marionberries she’d purchased to take to her mom. Between the heat and her unplanned visit at Cort’s ranch, the berries wouldn’t last until she got them back to Boise. Her mom wouldn’t mind if she arrived with the berries already preserved.
Much to Cort’s delight, they also made several pies, cobblers, and crisps. Kaley put most of them in the freezer in disposable pie tins so Celia could take part of them with her when she left.
It was good to spend time with Cort, Kaley and Jacob. The little boy chattered nonstop as he showed her how well he rode his pony and the tricks he’d tried to teach their mottled mutt, Buford.
Celia loved watching the caring way the dog interacted with the boy and snapped many photos of them together.
Cort invited her to go riding with him. She took along a camera and captured images of her brother on horseback, his herd of cattle, and rolling fields of wheat and hay. They talked about their parents, how things looked on their farm, and plans for her to stay with Cort and Kaley when she returned in September for the Pendleton Round-Up.
Fearful she’d break down in unstoppable tears if she saw her mom too soon after all that had happened at the rodeo with Kash, Celia needed the time with Cort’s family to relax and unwind.
It did her good to see her brother so completely in love. As she watched Cort place a hand on Kaley’s hip while they stood in the kitchen or rub her arm as they sat on the couch, Celia wanted to be loved like that. To have someone so in love with her, his touch came automatically, possessively.
Although she never mentioned a word of what happened to either of them, they both sensed something was wrong.
The morning she left, Cort gave her a brotherly hug then patted her back. “If you ever need me, Miss Fancy Pants, I’m only a phone call away.”
Celia kissed his cheek and smiled. “I appreciate that, you big lug, but I’m fine.” She hugged Kaley and ruffled Jacob’s hair before tweaking his little nose. “You and Buford stay out of trouble until I come back.”
“Drive safely, Celia,” Kaley called with a friendly smile. Celia waved and drove down their gravel driveway.
After a stop at the farm to visit her parents and deliver the marionberry treats, Celia returned to her apartment, relieved to be home.
Once she unpacked, ran to the store for groceries and caught up on laundry, she sat down at the computer she kept on the desk in her living room. She pulled back the blinds on the patio door and the windows to let the sunshine in then immersed herself in processing the images she’d taken at the rodeo and on Cort’s ranch.
Her favorite photo from the ranch was one of Jacob with his arms wrapped around Buford. Cort sat on his horse in the background and Kaley stood beside him with her hand on his leg.
She printed off three copies and set them aside to frame. One would go up on her wall, one she’d deliver to her parents, and the third she’d mail to Cort and Kaley.
As she went through all the rodeo photos, she noticed she’d taken several of Kash. The photos had to be the result of a subconscious action. She couldn’t recall intentionally pointing the camera his direction and thinking, “I’ll take a photo of the bully who tossed me against a tree.”
In the photos, Kash looked like the man she met the day when he’d rescued her from the horses and warned her to stay away from his stock. Three photos showed him releasing the flank strap. Two photos caught him riding his horse behind the arena as he kept watch over his stock. The last one made her heart melt as the image showed him handing a bright red balloon to a pouty-lipped toddler.
Quickly enlarging the photo of him handing the balloon to the child, Celia studied every detail.
Kash sat on a dapple-gray horse with a black mane and tail. The colors of his mount contrasted nicely to his dark blue chaps and pale blue shirt, the standard uniform of the Rockin’ K Rodeo Company.
A black hat hid his eyes, but Celia imagined they probably looked warm and soft as he gazed at the baby. He leaned forward with the string of the balloon caught between his gloved fingers. A slight smile tilted the corners of his lips upward.
The little girl, held in the arms of what had to be an older sibling, stretched chubby fingers toward the string. A curly blond pigtail tied with a pink bow and a pale pink tutu dress topped by a tiny lace-trimmed denim vest made it clear she was one hundred percent girly-girl. Celia grinned at the child’s pink boots. Tears streaked the toddler’s cheeks, but she had a look of anticipation on her face as she reached out to grab the string.
Celia assumed the child had let go of the string and Kash had somehow rescued
the balloon before it floated away into the evening sky.
How could a man who rescued balloons for babies have been so cruel to her?
It didn’t make sense. Not a single lick of sense.
With a derisive snort, Celia reminded herself she didn’t possess a dollop of intelligence if she continued obsessing over Kash Kressley. He was bad news and she would stay far away from him, even if looking at him made her drool.
Selecting her top three photos of rodeo action, Celia sent a photo of a bareback rider, a team roper, and a barrel racer to a magazine that frequently purchased her work.
After checking her calendar and calling three clients to confirm appointments for senior portraits, she slid a Doris Day movie into her DVD player, popped a bowl full of popcorn, and sank onto her couch cushions.
Three days later, she parked her pickup at the Snake River Stampede grounds and gathered her equipment. The rodeo was practically in her backyard, taking place just outside of Nampa, Idaho.
Considered one of the top professional regular season rodeos in the country, the stampede started back in the early 1900s as a local bucking horse competition and grew from there. Several years ago, it moved from an outdoor arena to a new location that included an air-conditioned indoor arena.
Celia appreciated the climate-controlled atmosphere, but the indoor lighting sometimes made shooting the event tricky.
Never one to back down from a challenge, she knew from experience the spots to stake out to get the best photos.
She’d noticed that Kash’s company provided some of the stock. If he got within slapping distance of her, she planned to leave a handprint on his cheek just for good measure.
Slowly, she made her way into the arena, stopping every few feet to visit with people she knew. Not only were many of the contestants familiar to her, but also members of the rodeo committee, volunteers, and the rodeo personalities.
Cooper snuck up behind her and gave her hair a playful yank. She spun around so fast, she almost hit him with her equipment bag.
“Hey! Watch it with that thing. You might damage my delicate skin.” Cooper grinned at her.
“Who could tell what your skin looks like under all that paint? For all I know your face is covered in warts from kissing all those road apples in the arena.”
The guys around them laughed and one of them gave Celia a high five. She turned back to Cooper. “If you’re gonna stand there like a sourpuss, you might as well carry this for me.” She dumped her bag in Cooper’s hands and marched across the arena.
The clown clutched her bag to his chest and pranced after her, making everyone watching laugh.
Celia stopped and held out her hand to him with a smile. Cooper shook his head. “Come on, girl. I’m man enough to carry this for you. What do you put in here, anyway? Rocks? Gold bars? Lead weight?”
She laughed. “Two cameras, three lenses, flashes and assorted other equipment. And my secret stash of candy. If you’re a good boy, I might even share with you.”
Cooper set her bag on a bench outside the gate near the bucking chutes. “I might just take you up on that offer, Celia. Stay out of trouble and I’ll see you later.”
The clown jogged off behind the chutes while Celia fiddled with her equipment and got ready for the rodeo to begin. Halfway through the rodeo she made a trip to the restroom. On her way back to the arena, she noticed Kash sitting on the same dapple-gray horse watching the tie-down ropers.
He glanced her way and politely tipped his hat to her. She curtly nodded and hurried back to her equipment.
After the rodeo ended, she was on her way out of the arena when she stopped to visit with a few of the cowboys who’d won that evening’s performance. She congratulated them then continued through the dispersing crowd. She’d almost reached the exit when she felt a hand on her arm.
Instinctively, she jerked away when an enticing, familiar scent settled over her and she looked up into Kash’s handsome face.
“I will seriously scream bloody murder if you don’t leave me alone.” Celia took a step back, holding her camera bag in front of her like a shield.
“I just wanted to apologize for what happened a few weeks ago, Celia.” Kash raised his hands in front of him in a gesture indicating he meant no harm. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am truly sorry. I guarantee nothing like that will happen again. You have my word on it. Please consider giving me a chance to explain?”
The man standing before her looked sad and concerned. A fading yellow bruise around his eye and another on his jaw made her wonder if a human or an animal had caused the injury.
When she glanced into his blue eyes, she saw pain and sorrow, yet she hesitated to agree to his request.
“It can be anywhere, on your terms. I just want to explain what happened, that’s all.”
Celia worried her bottom lip then released a slow breath. “Let me think about it. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Celia. I appreciate your consideration.” Kash touched his fingers to the brim of his hat and disappeared behind the chutes.
As she watched him walk away, she couldn’t reconcile the gentleman who’d just spoken to her with the beast she’d encountered a few weeks ago.
Determined not to think about it more that evening, she left the arena and went home.
Sleep evaded her most of the night as she contemplated the best thing to do.
On one hand, Kash had mistreated her and had no right to speak to her again. On the other hand, she believed in giving people second chances and maybe there was a good explanation for the deplorable way he’d behaved. She certainly didn’t condone what he’d done, but perhaps she’d at least gain some understanding of the situation if she listened to him.
Confused, she tossed and turned until she finally got up in the pre-dawn hours and downloaded her photographs from the previous evening onto her computer. She chose half a dozen images and sent them to various media outlets including a few to the local paper. She often took photos and sold them to the newspaper as a freelancer. Within an hour, she’d sold two prints to the paper for that day’s edition. She did a little victory dance in her peach and blue flowered short pajamas.
The morning passed quickly as she processed her photos. In the afternoon, she met with a bride then drove to the park near the zoo where she did a family portrait of a couple with their three adorable children.
She hurried back to her apartment and changed from shorts and a T-shirt into a cotton blouse, jeans, and boots.
After double-checking to make sure she had all her equipment, she rushed out the door and drove to Nampa to the rodeo.
Purposely avoiding thoughts of Kash and his request during her busy day, she decided she’d give him an opportunity to explain himself, but on her terms.
Right before the rodeo began she saw him standing behind the chutes talking to two members of the rodeo board. He appeared cocky and confident as he shook hands with the men and swaggered away with a beer in one hand. She stopped outside the arena gate and waited for him to cross her path. When he did, he looked at her in surprise before a broad grin stretched across his face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, stepping close to her.
Too close, as far as Celia was concerned. Instead of a heady aroma that put her in mind of cozy winter evenings and snowfall, he smelled like beer and sweat with a lingering odor of cheap perfume. A smudge of lipstick on his neck beneath his ear made her clench her fists.
Quickly changing her mind, she gave him a cool glare then turned away. He gripped her arm and whipped her back around, sloshing beer out of the bottle in his hand. “You back for round two, darlin’? I’ve got a few minutes before this shindig gets underway if you want to come outside with me.”
“You’re an insufferable pig, Kash Kressley! Get your filthy hands off me!” Celia soundly slapped his cheek and ran off.
Cooper walked up in time to see Celia slap his face. He stepped up beside Ransom and shook his head. “It’s
not in your best interest to pretend to be your brother. If you think Celia’s mad now, you might not want to be around when she finds out the truth. That girl carries a concealed weapon and knows how to use it.”
Ransom’s eyes widened then he broke into a devil-may-care grin. “How’d you know it was me and not Kash?”
Cooper pointed behind him to where Kash watched the broncs enter the chutes for the bareback riding event. “Three reasons. First, your brother is either on a horse keeping watch over things or behind the chutes pulling flank straps. Second, he never drinks. Third, you have lipstick on your neck and a cloud of cheap perfume floating around you like a scratch and sniff ad for a bawdy house. If it was me messing with the girl Kash has his eye on, I’d probably clear out for the evening. Otherwise, he might tie you to the front of my barrel and use you as a target for his bulls.”
Ransom scoffed and stomped away, irritated that even the rodeo clown seemed to be on Kash’s side. What was it about Saint Kash that everyone liked?
If his father hadn’t insisted Ransom stay to help with the stock at this rodeo, he’d have been at home, or better yet, off with some willing young thing interested in a good time. Instead, all three of them were at the stupid rodeo working their tails off.
Tired and angry, Ransom decided he’d had enough for one evening and left. A bar down the road gave him a place to hang out until things wrapped up for the evening and stay out of his brother’s way.
Chapter Eight
Throughout the evening, Kash tried to catch Celia’s eye. An infuriated scowl countered every attempt.
When he saw her leave the arena during the sponsor introductions, he followed her.
“Celia? Can I talk to you a minute?”
She glanced back at him with a furious, frightened glare and broke into a run. The women’s restroom provided an effective hiding spot.
Capturing Christmas Page 7
