by Mia Hopkins
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Lucky took her hand. “Harmony, did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”
She looked up at him. Her dark lover had turned into a gentle protector in a heartbeat. “No. You didn’t hurt me. It’s not you.” She sat up and buried her face in her hands. She was a hot mess. He didn’t need to see this. No one needed to see this. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He stroked her cheek. “Sorry for what?”
The tears fell freely now. “It’s just…” She trailed off.
“Hey.” He took her in his arms at once. “Easy.”
Just like he had on the dance floor, Lucky held her close to his chest, wrapped up in his strength. Harmony was not a shrinking violet. She was closer to the ogre in a fairy tale than the damsel in distress. But Lucky was so much bigger than her that she allowed herself to lean against him, drawing strength from his steadiness.
“You’re not going to like this.” She sniffled. “I know I wouldn’t.”
“What is it?”
Shame swirled in Harmony’s stomach along with all the melancholy Dr. Dreamboat had left there earlier in the evening. So much for her plan to outrun her sadness. She took a deep breath and spit out the truth. “My boyfriend dumped me. Tonight.”
Lucky froze. “Tonight?”
“Yes.” She winced. As far as awkward situations went, this was way up there. Why did she have to tell him anything? Why couldn’t this have been what she’d planned—a night of meaningless sex to dull the pain? What was it about Lucky that made her tell him the truth? “We broke up over dinner. I drove here to see my sister. I just wanted to dance. Get drunk. Lose myself.”
He pulled away from her. Harmony braced herself for his anger.
“Did you love him?” he asked.
That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She blinked. “Yes.” I think I did.
Lucky said nothing for a moment. He touched his fingertips to her lips and trailed them down her throat. He pressed his big hand against her left breast. “Is your heart broken?”
Lucky’s unexpected gesture called attention to the cold, deep ache in her chest. Again, she told him the truth. “Yes.”
He dropped his hand. “So you were just using me? Again?”
“Yes.” More shame. Harmony looked down at her hands. “God, what a coldhearted bitch.”
“True.” He sighed. “But not coldhearted. Brokenhearted. That’s different.” He pulled her into another embrace. She sobbed against his bare chest. “Go ahead. Cry. It’s natural. Let it out.”
At last, Harmony let herself go. She hadn’t cried in years, and this was not an ugly cry. This was a hideous openmouthed cry, replete with plenty of snot and braying.
When she choked out her last sobs, Lucky wiped her tears and boogers away with his undershirt. She blinked at him. In the lamplight, with his dark disheveled hair and beard, he looked like a big, sexy bear who just so happened to be hanging out in her bed.
“I’m sorry I used you,” she said softly.
He let her go and stood up. “I forgive you.” He straightened the covers, turned off the light and climbed in next to her. “And I got something pretty good out of it, so don’t feel too bad.” He pulled the sheets over both of them and wrapped his big arms around her again.
“Lucky—”
“Shh.”
“But—”
“Three times and you still have energy to talk?” He paused. “Do I have to fuck you again?”
In spite of herself, she smiled. It was the first time he’d said the word aloud tonight. “Good night, Lucky.”
He held her tightly in his heavy arms. “Good night.”
Harmony scanned the dark bunkhouse, its spooky interior haunted by shadows. In a few minutes, Lucky’s breathing grew deep and even. Before long he was snoring softly in her ear, his body wrapped around hers like armor against her loneliness. Exhausted inside and out, she closed her eyes and fell asleep at last.
Harmony woke up alone. Lucky was gone. Sore in the best way possible, she got up and showered in the bunkhouse bathroom. Her detail-oriented older sister had left her some clean clothes. She changed into a T-shirt and jeans and put her boots back on. The walk to the farmhouse got her blood going. She said hello to a couple of ranch hands doing their chores. The early-morning air was already warm.
She wiped her feet on the mat outside the back door and entered the MacKinnons’ mudroom. Three friendly Aussie shepherds greeted her with wags and nose-nudges. She petted them and walked into the kitchen.
At the stove, Georgia was dressed for work on the ranch. She carried her two-year-old daughter on her hip. The little one was pulling on her mother’s braids as she watched Georgia stir up a big pot of oatmeal one-handed. Harmony kissed Georgia on the cheek as the rest of Georgia’s kids came to sit at the big table, followed by their grandmother Cecilia “Cece” MacKinnon, who poured herself the first of many cups of coffee.
Harmony gave her a big hug. “Auntie Cece.”
The little brown-haired woman was spunky and energetic as ever. “Oh, honey! It’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s everything going? How’s work? And your handsome doctor friend?”
Georgia looked wide-eyed at Cece and made a throat-slitting motion with her free hand. “Ix-nay on the oyfriend-bay.”
Cece clapped a hand over her mouth. “Ix-nay on the—oh! I see. Forget I said anything. Coffee?” She smiled goofily as she poured Harmony another cup.
“Thank you.” Harmony accepted the cup and let it warm her hands. As she took her first sip, she swore all operations on MacKinnon Ranch would come to a grinding halt if that coffeemaker ever broke down.
Harmony took over cooking while Cece and Georgia got all the big kids fed, packed up, and sent to the bus stop on time. Daniel came through the back door, kissed Georgia, and took the baby from her. He strapped the little girl into her high chair as Melody came downstairs. Dean walked in through the front door, holding his six-month-old son Dale in a baby carrier. A huge yellow diaper bag covered in ducklings was slung over his shoulder. He was helping on the ranch for the day, but he and his wife Monica lived in town, where she worked at the chamber of commerce and kept the books for her family’s many businesses.
The controlled chaos of the MacKinnon household fell into order as everyone took a seat at the breakfast table. At the head of the table was an empty place set for Dale MacKinnon, Cece’s husband, who’d passed away a year earlier. He’d left a big hole in their lives. Harmony still missed him. They all did.
The table was set and Cece was about to say a prayer when the front door opened. In walked Clark and Lucky.
“Sit down, guys,” Melody called. “We’re about to start.”
The two men quickly took their seats. Lucky took the empty chair next to Harmony and greeted her with a half-smile. He was wearing his clothes from the night before.
“Morning,” he said softly.
Harmony’s face flushed in spite of herself. Everyone was staring at them. “Morning.”
The babies babbled quietly through Cece’s quick prayer. She thanked God for the food and for her family, and for the guests Harmony and Lucky. She asked Jesus to look after Dale and Harmony and Melody’s parents too.
Amen was followed by pancakes, bacon, eggs, and oatmeal. Fresh milk, good butter. Coffee, and lots of it. Between tiny cups of yogurt in her apartment and fancy dinners out with Dr. Dreamboat, it had been too long since Harmony enjoyed a home-cooked meal. Ravenous, she and Lucky put away piles of food. Melody made eye contact with Harmony and winked. Harmony frowned at her, reaching for more bacon.
“So Lucky, where’s the next show?” Dean asked.
Lucky took a drink of coffee. “Payson. Couple of weeks.”
“Payson?” Harmony asked.
“Arizona. That’s a big rodeo,” said Clark. “Didn’t he tell you? Lucky might make world finals for tie-down roping this year.”
“Payson’s my last chance to qualify.
”
“Who are your sponsors now?” asked Dean. “You’ve got Walker Ranch, Scout Tools, and Yamamoto, right?”
“Plus the Chevy dealership,” Lucky said, his mouth half full. He swallowed. “They signed on late last season.”
“As much as we miss having you on the ranch, I’m so proud of you, Lucky. So proud,” said Cece. “And your brother in college too. Your mom must be so happy. ”
“She’s happy about Abel. As for me, standings change so quickly, it’s hard to say if I’ll make the cut.”
“Still, that is something, Luck.” Dean nodded to himself. “Whatever the case, you ought to be proud of yourself.”
“Do you miss it, Dean?” Lucky asked. “Being on the road?”
Before Dean could answer, his son snuffled, grimaced, and took a deep breath. “Here it comes,” Dean said. Two seconds later, the baby let out a wail like the siren on a fire truck. Dean lowered his face and sniffed the kid. He put his spoon down, picked up the carrier and diaper bag, and headed for the bathroom. “’Scuse me.”
When Dean was gone, Cece turned to Harmony. “A little birdie told me something.”
Melody stood up and stuck a pink candle in the remaining pancakes on Harmony’s plate. Clark struck a match and lit it. “Happy birthday, troublemaker,” he said.
As they sang to her, just like they used to when she was a child, Harmony looked at all of their smiling faces. She and Melody had grown up with the MacKinnon boys. It was comforting to know they’d always have her back if she ever needed help. And it made her happy to see them starting families and living lives of their own.
She blew out the candle with a light heart.
After breakfast, many hands made light work of clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen. Cece took over watching the babies while everyone else went to work on the ranch. Lucky followed Harmony out of the house.
“Can you give me a ride home?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Together they walked back to her Jeep. “I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he said. “How old are you?
“It was yesterday. I’m twenty-five.” It sounded so grown up. But she was in no better position to understand her mess of a life or the jumble of emotions inside her.
“Your boyfriend broke up with you on your birthday? What a dickhead.”
“Let’s not talk about that.” She waved her hand. “Tell me about Payson. That sounds really cool, Lucky.”
He shrugged, grinning. “I’ve been roping since I was eighteen. This is the closest I’ve ever come to qualifying for world finals. I still can’t believe it.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been to the rodeo. How does tie-down roping work?”
“It’s a timed event. A calf runs into the arena. When it reaches a certain point, the horse and rider chase after it. The rider ropes the calf, dismounts, lifts the calf, ties three of its legs together, and throws up his hands to stop the clock.”
“How long do you have?”
“A good time is nine seconds.”
“Jesus.”
“After that, the calf has to stay tied for six seconds. If it does, then that time is recorded. If not, the whole run doesn’t count. That’s it. Speed is key. Having a good horse is important.”
“What’s your horse’s name?”
“Batman.”
“Is he black?”
Lucky shook his head. “No. I just like the name Batman.”
“Goofball.” She smiled. “Are your sister and mother going to cheer you on?”
He shook his head again. “I was saving for them to come to Arizona. But Abel’s laptop broke a few weeks ago. We used the money to buy him a new one.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I really wanted them to go, but the computer was more important.” They walked in silence for a little while. Lucky cleared his throat. “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Are you going to call him again?”
“Who?”
“Your ex.”
Harmony stuck her hands in her pockets. If she were smart, she’d let it go. Before she could answer Lucky’s question, Clark and Daniel drove by them in the Gator, one of the dogs sitting in the back.
“See you later, you crazy kids,” Daniel called, waving at them.
Clark sang, “Lucky and Harmony sitting in a tree. Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-I-N-G!”
The brothers whistled and hollered as they bumped down the road. When they were out of earshot, Harmony said, “Do you think they know what we did?”
Lucky grinned. “The way we were acting last night at the Spur? They know. Of course they know.”
“God.” She shuddered. “They must think I’m such a slut.”
“A slut? Why?” He looked at her. “So you broke up with your boyfriend and went home with the hottest Mexican tie-down roper in Oleander. Who cares?” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. They fell into step at once. “Sometimes the body needs what it needs. And those guys? The things they’ve done?” He laughed. “Trust me. They don’t care. You shouldn’t either.”
They climbed into her Jeep and headed downtown. At the end of Main Street, Harmony turned onto a narrow side street, over an irrigation ditch and past a few low-slung houses with pickup trucks parked on the grass. She stopped in front of a bungalow at the end of the block, a small house with peeling green paint and a neat row of rosebushes by the door. In the long driveway were a rundown truck and a horse trailer with attached living quarters.
“You want to come in?” he asked. “No one’s home.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to get back into my jeans?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just want you to meet my horse.”
Harmony turned off her engine and climbed out. She followed Lucky around the side of the house. The building was old and needed some serious TLC, but the yard was meticulously kept. Shiny new wind chimes hung on the porch. Above the door hung a wooden plaque: “Que en este hogar florezca el amor y la paz de Dios.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, pointing.
Lucky glanced at the plaque. “It means something like, ‘May the love and peace of God—flower? Um, flourish?—in this house.’” He took her hand. “Come on.”
They walked around back. A big vegetable garden was laid out in careful, precise rows of cabbage, leafy greens, and what Harmony recognized as carrot tops and beet tops. Past that, Lucky had set up a small corral with a run-in shed. A beautiful reddish-gold horse stood at the other end of the corral, tail flicking back and forth in the morning sunshine.
“Stay here.” Lucky let go of her hand. He went inside the house and came out holding a couple slices of stale bread. He gave one to Harmony. “We keep these around for her. They’re like horse candy. Watch.”
He whistled softly and the horse’s ears pricked. She walked to where he stood at the fence, reached over and plucked the bread from his hand with a loud crunch. He rubbed the side of her neck and beckoned Harmony forward. “Your turn.”
Harmony held the bread out and Lucky’s horse took it with another eager crunch. Her lips were warm and drooly. Harmony rubbed the horse’s velvety nose. “So Batman’s a girl?” she asked.
“Yes.” Lucky laughed. “Batman’s a girl.”
“You’re a strange man.”
After she wiped her palm on her jeans, Lucky took her hand again. He led her to a small wooden bench under a tree by the vegetable garden. When she sat down, the fragrance of summer plums enveloped her. He reached up and plucked a ripe one from a low-hanging branch. He rinsed it with a garden hose and handed it to her. She took a bite of the ruby-red fruit, and its rich, winey sweetness filled her mouth.
“My dad planted this tree.” Lucky sat down next to her, took off his hat, and ran his hand through his hair. “Right before the son of a bitch took off.”
“How old were you when he left?”
“Sixteen. We’d been in the country for two years.
He went back to Zacatecas. Started another family there. Forgot about us. My mother thinks he wasn’t prepared for the amount of work that we had to do when we got here. He was an only son, spoiled from a young age. No stomach for shitwork.” He stretched out his long legs, resting his arms on the back of the bench. “On the other hand, I have a bottomless stomach for shitwork. My mom, the same. I think we were born for it.”
“What does your mother do?”
“She’s a janitor. Fulltime at the middle school. She cleans motel rooms on the weekends. Before he left for college, my brother worked construction. After school, my sister works at the ice cream parlor.” He kicked at the dirt with his heel. “I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining. God knows we are lucky to have jobs. And we’re no longer working in the fields. That was hell.” He smiled sadly. “We saved all of my winnings and my brother’s income to pay for his first year at school. He’s only on partial scholarship. Between his tuition, the bills, putting some money away in my sister’s college fund…” He trailed off. “Money’s tight. Really tight.”
“What are your options?”
“Rodeo—for the amount you must spend to participate, it’s not a consistent paycheck. To see any kind of return on your investment, you can’t just win, you have to be a superstar. The guys I’m competing against, they’re like royalty. Their fathers, their grandfathers were world champions. It’s in their blood. They have lots of support.” He reached up and pulled down another plum. He polished it on his shirt and took a bite. The juice wet his bottom lip and he licked it away. “Me? I have to give it up soon. It’s a luxury. Too unpredictable.”
Harmony searched his face. He was proud of what he’d accomplished as a roper. He loved his horse. How could he give it all up? The decision hurt him. He hid his pain well.
“I talked to Clark this morning,” Lucky continued. “They need help on the ranch in a few months, but they don’t have anything until then. I’ll ask around, see what’s available. Maybe look for another job in town. I don’t know. My brother, we could get him through college if we economized. But Araceli will be in college in a year. With both of them in school, I don’t know how we’ll make it. I just don’t know.”
