by Marin Thomas
Beau left out the part about being warned way from Sierra—he hated to believe his own father would put his happiness ahead of his son’s. Heck, it might not even matter anymore… Beau had a feeling Sierra was pulling away from him and he felt powerless to prevent it from happening. “We talked about Mom.”
Duke’s eyes rounded.
“Dad confessed that he never loved Mom the way he loves Jordan. He said he proposed to Mom after he heard that Jordan had gotten engaged to another man.”
“Jeez. Poor Mom. Good thing she had no idea Dad had betrayed her.”
“She knew.”
Duke sat up straight, his boots hitting the floor with a thud. “What?”
“Mom found Dad’s love letters to Jordan and figured it out on her own.”
“How did Mom react?”
Beau stared at his brother for several seconds, communicating without words.
“The car accident,” Duke whispered.
“They got into an argument over the letters and Mom stormed out of the house.”
“Dad didn’t try to stop her?”
“No.”
“Unbelievable.” Duke sprang from his chair and paced across the room.
“Dad feels pretty bad about what happened and he blames himself for us growing up without a mother.”
“No wonder he’s always been a curmudgeon. Must have been hell living with all that guilt,” Duke said. “Do you think they would have stayed married if Mom hadn’t died?”
“Who knows? In any event, Dad’s determined not to waste his second chance with Jordan.”
“Did he say they’re getting married?” Duke asked.
“No, but I think it’s only a matter of time before he proposes to her. I figure Dad’s slacking off is going to be the norm from now on.”
“I never pictured the old man marrying again, did you?”
“No.” Beau hesitated, feeling awkward, then asked, “Was it tough for you to give up rodeo for Angie?”
“Not as much as I’d believed it would be. I was used to being on the road a lot and I worried I’d miss all the excitement if I stayed in one place.”
“What changed your mind?”
Duke smiled. “When you love a woman with all your heart you realize pretty quick you don’t want to be away from her for very long.”
“And fatherhood? You were thrown into that role and didn’t have much time to get used to the idea.”
“I love Luke. We’re kindred spirits. He’s a lot like me when I was younger.”
“Do you and Angie want more kids?”
“Why all the questions?” Duke asked. “You didn’t get Sierra pregnant, did you?”
“Hell, no!” A flashback of Sierra’s sexy sprawl on the stainless-steel counter shot through Beau’s brain and he swallowed hard. They’d used a condom… He shook his head. Sierra wouldn’t have gone on a drinking binge if there had been a chance she was pregnant.
“My turn to be nosey,” Duke said. “Did Sierra ever tell you what Saturday night was all about?”
Embarrassed and hurt that Sierra had shut him out after they’d made love, he said, “I don’t have any claim on Sierra. She’s free to party and have a good time if she wants.”
“For someone who’s laid back about your relationship you sure rushed to her rescue at the bar.”
“I care about Sierra and wanted to make sure she got home safe.” And Beau hadn’t been about to let her go home with another man.
“It isn’t any of my business what’s going on between you and your lady love,” Duke said, “but I’m going to speak my mind.”
Turnabout was fair play. Beau had blistered Duke’s ears earlier in the summer when his brother had quit rodeo. “I’m listening.”
“Angie’s a strong, independent, stubborn woman.”
“So is Sierra,” Beau said.
“Then beware. Don’t let a woman’s strength fool you into believing her heart can’t be broken. The last thing Sierra needs is a man to bail on her when the going gets tough.”
And the going would get tough…a little more each and every day. “Warning received.” Beau headed for the door and Duke followed him outside.
“Are you riding anywhere this weekend?”
“Bridger.”
“Is Dad going?”
“What do you think?”
“He’s spending time with Jordan.”
Beau nodded.
“He’d better not call me for help. Angie’s got a fix-it list a mile long waiting for me to tackle.”
“Good luck with that.” Beau moseyed down the block to his parked truck. He glanced across the street as he passed the diner and watched Sierra move about the tables, talking to her customers. Maybe she needed time to come to terms with the doctor’s diagnosis.
He’d give her space, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
* * *
SIERRA’S BUCKET LIST rested on the passenger seat of the car as she drove through Billings early Saturday afternoon. According to the GPS she was within a mile of the Yellowstone Drag Strip. She was nervous yet excited about her first time drag racing. Yellowstone Drag Strip advertised weekend specials, which included a half-hour instruction class, three practice runs in a race car with an instructor, then two drag races against an opponent. The package cost Sierra $350 but she didn’t bat an eyelash at the amount. She spent little money on clothes and she rarely treated herself to manicures or pedicures, so she had plenty of money in her savings to finance her bucket list.
Ever since her father had taken her to a real drag-racing event when she’d been a little girl, the sport had fascinated Sierra. She remembered loving the loud rumble of the powerful car engines and the incredible speed at which the cars traveled. One day in the not-too-distant future she’d have to give up her driver’s license, but today she intended to race the wind.
The building came into view and the GPS directed Sierra to turn onto a frontage road, which emptied into a crowded parking lot. After finding a parking spot she entered the building and filled out a packet of forms. She fudged on the health questions—who needed perfect eyesight to steer a car in a straight line? Once she paid her fee, she was loaned a driver’s suit and helmet then introduced to her instructor—a woman named Mandy. Mandy asked about Sierra’s driving experience and she confessed that she’d never driven a vehicle with a larger motor than a six-cylinder engine. Mandy escorted Sierra and three others to a small classroom where they watched a video on racing safety then stowed their belongings in lockers, put on their driving suits and walked out to the racetrack behind the building.
Heart pounding with excitement, Sierra wished Beau wasn’t so overprotective. She would have loved to have invited him along today so they could have raced each other on the track.
* * *
BEAU HAD JUST entered Billings when flurries hit the windshield. He fumbled with the radio until he found a weather report—sleet changing to snow with a possible two-inch accumulation—nothing unusual for late October in Montana. What was unusual was that the TV weatherman the previous evening had forecast clear skies with clouds rolling in after midnight and a slight chance of flurries by morning. Must be nice to have a job where you got paid whether you were right or wrong.
His cell phone rang and Beau recognized his father’s number. Now what? The old man never called to ask how Beau did in his rodeos. “What’s up, Dad?”
“Where are you?”
“Just entered Billings, why?”
“It’s Sierra.”
Beau’s stomach dropped. He changed lanes then turned into a business and shifted into Park. “What’s going on?”
“Jordan’s worried about Sierra. She left this afternoon to go into Billings but said she’d be back by five.”
Beau glanced at the dashboard clock—five-thirty. Why was Sierra in Billings? He’d thought she’d had to work in the diner all day. “Did Jordan try Sierra’s cell phone?”
“Of course she did. Sierra’s not an
swering.”
Anger competed with worry. “What do you want me to do, Dad?”
“Sierra scribbled an address on a piece of paper that Irene found. Plug it into your GPS and see if she’s there.”
This coming from the man who’d told him to keep his distance from Sierra? Beau grabbed a pen from the glove box and used the back of a fast-food bag to write down the address his father recited. “I’ll let you know what I find out.” He disconnected the call, entered the information into his GPS, then left the parking lot and merged with traffic. Ten minutes later he pulled into the Yellowstone Drag Strip, figuring his father had transposed the numbers in the address.
When he stepped into the building and asked if a Sierra Byrne had been there, a young kid pointed to the exit that led outside to the track. “She’s got one more race. She had trouble with her car and it put her behind schedule.”
When Beau left the building, a blast of cold air hit him in the face. The snow was falling harder and the wind gusts were stronger—not the safest racing conditions. Beau searched for Sierra, but the pit area was empty. Then he heard the sound of revving engines and jogged around the side of the building where two race cars—one red and one black—gunned their engines. A woman stood on the side of the track holding a flag. God help him—was Sierra driving one of the cars?
Before Beau came to grips with the possibility, the woman waved the flag and race-car wheels spun against the slick pavement before lurching forward onto the straightaway. The black car edged out the red one as they neared the finish line, then the red car put the brakes on too hard and fishtailed. The driver over-corrected, sending the car careening into a blockade. Rubber tires spewed into the air then rained down on the car. The flag woman hurried toward the wreck.
Beau’s boots remained rooted to the cement and his heart pounded so hard it hurt. Eyes glued to the red car, he held his breath as he waited for the driver’s door to open. The driver emerged from the car and removed his—her helmet. Sierra. Beau was too far away to hear the conversation between the drivers and the instructor, but the smile on Sierra’s face assured Beau that she hadn’t been injured. When her gaze landed on Beau, the smile vanished and her solemn stare punched him in the gut. He retreated inside the building to wait for Sierra and for his heart to stop pounding like a jackhammer.
“What are you doing here?” Sierra asked Beau when she emerged from the locker room twenty minutes later.
Acting as if finding Sierra drag racing was an everyday occurrence took more effort than Beau imagined. He kept his distance from her, fearing if he got too close he’d hug her so hard she’d suffocate. As far as he could tell there wasn’t a scratch on her, so why the heck did he feel light-headed?
“My father called when I was on my way home from the rodeo in Bridger. Your aunt was worried when you didn’t answer your cell phone. Jordan wanted to warn you about the storm heading this way.”
“So you had to run to my rescue?”
Rescue was a bit harsh. “Your aunt was worried.”
“I don’t need your help, Beau.”
Okay, now he was angry. “It’s dark outside and the snow’s falling harder. How did you plan to get back to Roundup tonight when you’re not allowed to drive in the dark?”
“I listened to the weather forecast yesterday and the snow was supposed to hold off until late tonight.” She motioned to the exit that led to the track. “I didn’t count on there being a problem with the race car. That delayed my start time or else I would have been on my way home well before now.”
Beau was ticked that Sierra was acting as if her decision to drag race wasn’t a big deal when in his mind it was a very big deal. She had no business engaging in activities that put her in danger. “What’s your game plan now?”
“I guess I’ll find a motel room.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Who’s going to drive you to the motel from here and bring you back in the morning to get your car?”
Her chin rose higher. “I’ll take a cab,” she said, then retrieved her cell phone from her purse.
“C’mon.” He clutched her arm. “Let’s get out of here.” All he wanted was to keep Sierra safe and sound with him. He helped her into his truck then drove through Billings. The snow flurries turned to sleet, freezing on the pavement. Traffic slowed to a crawl and Beau realized there was no way he could make the drive to Roundup safely tonight. He was stuck in Billings, too.
Suddenly the driver in front of him slammed on the brakes and spun into the fast lane. Sierra gasped and Beau white-knuckled the steering wheel as he watched the driver narrowly escaped a collision. Before Beau’s heartbeat returned to normal, a second car hit a patch of black ice and slid through a red light. That driver wasn’t as fortunate. A pickup slammed into the passenger-side door.
“That’s it,” Beau said when he noticed the motel across the street. He signaled and switched lanes then pulled into the parking lot. “We’re both getting a motel room for the night.”
Chapter Eleven
“Will you call your aunt and let her know we’re staying in Billings tonight?” Beau pulled behind a line of cars checking into the Holiday Inn Express. The place was filling up fast and he worried they wouldn’t get a room.
Sierra pressed the speed-dial number on her phone. “Aunt Jordan, it’s Sierra.” Pause. “I’m fine. Beau and I are waiting out the storm in Billings.”
Beau noticed Sierra neglected to tell her aunt that they were getting a motel room or that she’d been drag racing this afternoon.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” she said.
Now that Sierra was cooperating with his plan, the anxiety in Beau’s gut eased. He’d never forget the sickly feeling he’d gotten when her race car had careened into the pile of tires. At least tonight he’d have peace of mind knowing she was safe with him and not out somewhere pulling another daredevil stunt.
“Please see if Karla or Irene will open the diner tomorrow,” Sierra said. “I promise. Love you, too. Bye.”
“Promise what?” Beau asked after she disconnected the call.
“Aunt Jordan said to thank you for helping me—her words, not mine.”
Jordan might be grateful to Beau for rescuing her niece, but Sierra sure wasn’t appreciative. Beau didn’t understand this new pattern of risky behavior Sierra was engaging in, and he was clueless as to how to help her through this tough time. The one thing he knew for sure was that if she continued pulling these stunts his hair would turn gray before his next birthday. A guest exited the motel, and as soon as he drove off Beau took his parking spot.
“How did you do at the rodeo?” Sierra asked.
“Not good. Monstrosity kicked my butt.” Once Beau had been thrown, the bull had continued to buck and his hoof had caught Beau on the hip. The force of the blow had sent him flying through the air a second time.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. It was your fault I got thrown in the first place,” he said.
“Me? How did I cause you to fall off the bull?”
“Cowboys don’t fall off bulls…they get bucked off.”
“Whatever.” She waved a hand. “Why is it my fault that you lost?”
Tell her the truth. “I was preoccupied before, during and after my ride.”
“By what?”
Not what—who. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Sierra dropped her gaze to her lap.
“If you’d agreed to go with me to the rodeo, I wouldn’t have had trouble concentrating.” Because he would have known Sierra was sitting in the stands while he’d been in the cowboy-ready area. Instead, he’d thought about her recent excursion to the Open Range and had worried about her change in behavior. After seeing what she was up to today he had a right to be concerned.
“Beau…”
“What?”
“Just because we…slept together doesn’t mean you have a say in what I do with my life.”
Her words shouldn’t hav
e hurt, but they did. He was looking out for Sierra’s best interests, but anything he said right now would only upset her. He reached for the door handle. “Wait here while I check on availability.”
When the truck door shut, Sierra breathed a sigh of relief. Her knight in shining armor had rescued her again and she didn’t like it, not one darn bit. Her thrilling afternoon had ended on a sour note—being stuck in a motel room with Beau interrogating her wasn’t on her bucket list.
Fifteen minutes later, receipt in hand, Beau drove to the lot behind the motel and parked.
“I guess they had rooms left,” she said.
“Room. We got the last one.”
“Double beds?”
“One king-size.” He turned off the engine. “And I’m warning you right now, I starfish in bed.”
“What do you mean, you starfish?” she asked when he opened her door.
“I sleep with my arms and legs spread apart.”
Their room was located next to the exit on the first floor. Beau inserted the key card into the lock, opened the door and flipped on the lights. Ever the gentleman, he allowed Sierra to enter first.
“I’ll call the front desk for a roll-away,” she said.
“Already asked.” Beau shut the door and secured the locks. “All the cots are taken.” He walked farther into the room and adjusted the heater. “The desk clerk recommended the burger joint across the street. I’ll head over and get us dinner.”
She wasn’t hungry but the scowl on Beau’s face warned her not to be difficult. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, small fries and a diet cola.”
“Lock up after me.”
Sierra shut the door and slid the safety chain into place, then hurried into the bathroom and washed her delicates in the sink with the motel shampoo. Afterward, she spread them to dry on the heater then returned to the bathroom to shower. She raised her face to the hot spray and closed her eyes.
If anyone had told her how this day would end—her and Beau sharing a motel room and a king-size bed—she would have insisted they were crazy. As much as Beau’s overprotectiveness annoyed her, she still found him sexy as sin. Thank goodness she was still upset with Beau—at least she didn’t have to worry about jumping the cowboy’s bones.
