His Last Rodeo

by Claire McEwen

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Make sure to put this hour on your time card.” The last sentence was lost in the sound of scraping chairs. It was the most enthusiasm he’d seen so far from the employees. And it all centered on getting the hell out of there.

  Well, at least today would give him some time here. He could practice making a few drinks. Maybe he should have considered, before he bought a bar, that he had no idea how to bartend.

  He walked to the office and stared at the blank wipe-off calendar titled Schedule. How did he figure out who went where? The lines seemed to bend and blur.

  “Welcome to the world of bar ownership.” Kit leaned against the door frame, the position accentuating all the curves defined by her tight black dress.

  “Your type of welcome sucks, to be honest. If you want to work for me, don’t act like that in a staff meeting again.”

  “Or what? You’ll keep up the family tradition and fire me?”

  He tried to process her words. “What are you talking about?”

  She straightened, her arms crossed, outraged, across her chest. “Oh, didn’t you know? Your dad fired mine. After my father spent his life working on your ranch.”

  Tyler knew he should say something, but shock wiped out any response. Kit’s dad had been Tyler’s mentor. Garth had spent countless hours teaching Tyler how to ride bulls. “When did this happen?”

  “A few months ago,” Kit bit the words out, and he could see the emotion she was holding back, in her too-bright eyes and the pink flush staining her cheekbones.

  “I had no idea. I haven’t spent a lot of time on the ranch since I came home. I’ve rented a house in town.” It had been a relief to move off the ranch a few days ago. An even bigger relief, now that he had this piece of news to digest. His dad had fired Garth? “Is your dad okay? Does he need anything?”

  Pride closed down Kit’s face. He could see it in the tilt of her chin, the press of her full lips into a rigid line. “He’s fine.” But it was clear that she was lying.

  Tyler could picture exactly what had happened. His cold, logical dad doing the calculations and deciding that Garth Hayes was no longer an economically sound employee.

  A sick feeling melted into Tyler’s stomach. Garth had toiled on Sierra Canyon Ranch from dawn until past dusk six days a week for as long as Tyler could remember.

  “I tried to talk to your dad last week. My dad borrowed against his pension fund, so he’s broke now.” Kit’s voice had tears in it, though she’d never let them show. “I asked your dad to forgive the debt. But he wouldn’t bend.”

  “Why did your dad need that loan?” Tyler put out a hand to stop her. “Never mind. It’s not my business.”

  “It’s okay.” Kit sighed. “Ask anyone in town and they’ll tell you. When I turned eighteen, my mom asked my dad for a divorce. Seems she’d always hated it here. She left and broke my dad’s heart.”

  “I had no idea.” Kit’s mom had never come around the ranch, but he’d see her in town and at school events. She’d worn long, flowing skirts and a remote expression on her face.

  “My dad still loved my mom. He wanted her to be happy. So he took out that loan to help her start a new life and a business. She owns a groovy crystal shop in a little town on the Oregon coast.”

  “No kidding.” Tyler tried to read her mood.

  “She even changed her name. She’s Starflower Kindness now, owner of Kindness Crystals and Healing. You can look her up. She has an online store, too.”

  Kit was tough, as always, shrugging like she didn’t care. From the tremor in her husky voice, he’d bet she cared a lot.

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Once or twice. But not lately, because she never paid Dad back. And now he’s struggling to get by. I have trouble forgiving her for that.”

  “Makes sense.” It was tragic that her family had fallen apart. Doubly tragic that her dad had sacrificed so much to make sure the woman who’d left him would be okay. “I’ll speak to my father. I’ll try to make this right. Your dad deserves a hell of a lot better after all he did for my family. And for me.”

  She nodded, and he realized it wouldn’t help to say more now. He’d talk to his dad, and if by some miracle he got anywhere, he could share that with Kit. Anything else would be empty promises. But they had something else between them that needed to be resolved.

  “I can see why you’re upset at my dad. But I don’t want it to cause trouble with the staff. If you’re pissed at me, tell me straight.”

  She didn’t answer right away, but he saw a twist of guilt in her guarded expression. Finally she sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so rude in the meeting. It won’t happen again.”

  “Okay. Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say now that he’d finished laying down the law. But he still had his own guilt to assuage. “The other night, when I sprang the news on you about buying the bar... I should never have shown up here drunk. And I have a feeling I said some other things I shouldn’t have.”

  She smiled faintly. “You did. But if I had a problem dealing with drunks, I’d have quit this job a long time ago.”

  He nodded at the truth there. “Seems to me you’re kind of an expert. You had me on the ground faster than a pissed-off bull.”

  “It comes in handy.”

  “I could use a great bartender like you. I hope you’ll stick around.”

  She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, as if considering his invitation. “Do you want help with the schedule?”

  He didn’t recognize all the new hard edges on her, but this was more like the Kit he remembered from childhood. Getting mad, forgiving easily, then moving on. “Sure.”

  She tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder. “Okay, so...move over.” She walked into the tiny office, brushing up against him to get by. She paused, so close to him that her full breasts pressed into his torso. “Hey, boss? Maybe enlarge this office as part of your remodel. Because this isn’t going to work.”

  That was for damn sure. He could barely breathe. His brain had dropped below his belt, making it crystal clear that she was definitely not the same childhood friend he’d known. “The schedule?”

  Her derisive smile was back, letting him know she saw the effect she had on him. “Scoot over.”

  He shuffled out of her way and she grabbed a file out of a cabinet by the desk. “Let’s talk at the bar.”

  He led the way into the empty room, relieved to have more space between them. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, conscious that it was his first time offering anyone anything in his new place.

  “Just soda water.”

  Tyler went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses. He set them on the counter, then realized he had no idea how to get her what she’d asked for.

  “You need a little help?”

  He nodded. “And I bet you’re going to give me a hard time about it?”

  But she didn’t. Just slid off her stool and came around the bar. “Ice is in that cooler,” she said, pointing to a built-in compartment. “And soda, tonic, it’s all from this gun.” She pointed to a black nozzle that was hooked to a metal bracket.

  He picked it up. There were different buttons marked with letters.

  “S for soda water.” She put ice in their glasses, then held them out.

  He pushed the button and filled the glasses. It was the only easy thing about today so far. He was still absorbing the news about Kit’s dad. And trying to contain the anger he felt toward his own.

  He put the nozzle back and followed her to sit side by side. Kit pulled the folder toward him so he could see it and her elbow brushed his. Her dress had short sleeves, and he tried not to stare at the inked rattlesnake that wound its way up her arm, highlighting the way every toned muscle rippled under her creamy s
kin. It wasn’t a tattoo he’d have imagined for her, but then again, what did he know? They’d both changed a lot since they were kids.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, he directed his attention to the papers she’d laid out.

  “Here are the schedule requests,” she said. “Everyone fills one out each week, or they get what they get and no griping.”

  “Okay.” He picked one up and read over it. “Loomis only wants weekends?”

  “He’s full-time at Lone Mountain Ranch during the week.”

  “Got it.”

  “So once you’ve gone through the request sheets and you know what everyone wants, you plug them into the calendar on the office wall.”

  “It sounds pretty straightforward.”

  “It is, sometimes. Other times, everyone wants the same thing so you have to be diplomatic. This week, for example, everyone wants to work Saturday night. And, for that matter, so do I.”

  “Why this Saturday?”

  “The Benson Spring Fling. Huge crowd. Good tips.”

  Tyler remembered the Fling, with its rummage sale, the art walk downtown, horsemanship demos at the fairgrounds. And he remembered one Spring Fling especially. He and Kit had met up as the day became dusk, and ended the night in the back of a cop car.

  She might have remembered it, too, because her pale skin tinged pink. Or maybe she wished he’d hurry up and learn the scheduling so she could get out of here.

  “So how do I decide?”

  “You’re the boss. Figure it out.”

  “But what would you do?”

  “Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.” Her feral-cat smile gave no guarantee she told the truth.

  “Right.”

  She took a slow slip of her water, regarding him levelly over the glass. “It’s a little surreal, you know, that you’re going to be my boss.”

  “So that means you’ll stay and be my employee?” He said it lightly, but it was a real question and they both knew it.

  She studied him for a moment, as if considering a serious answer. Then all her sass and attitude were back. “If you’re really, really lucky.” She slid off her stool. “I’ve got to go. Make sure you put me on for Saturday night.”

  She gave him the opening. Not his fault if he took it. “Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.”

  Laughing low, she grabbed her bag. “Story of my damn life. See you around, Tyler.”

  He watched her saunter out of the bar, riveted by the way her hips moved, by the fall of her hair when she shook it down her back, by the brittle note he’d heard in her laugh that made him wonder if she was really laughing at all.

  * * *

  KIT BLINKED, the bright sunlight of the parking lot accosting her after the dim light inside the bar. Round two with Tyler. At least she hadn’t knocked him down this time. That was an improvement.

  But not a great one. She hated feeling out of control, but that’s how she’d been in that staff meeting. She knew she was being rude, but somehow she’d been unable to stop. She’d been overcome with a fiery resentment that Tyler could walk in and have the power to change the bar she loved. Just because he had money.

  Her thoughts stopped her in her tracks and she fumbled for her keys, absorbing the idea. They’d been friends growing up, but he’d always been the rich kid. The one with the horses they rode, with the truck, as they got older. He’d always had so much to offer, and she’d just tagged along behind.

  Is that what all of this fury was really about? Whatever the reason, she had to get it under control. Tyler was right to reprimand her. Her behavior at the meeting was childish and rude. If she wanted to keep working at the Dusty Saddle, she’d have to learn to keep her mouth shut.

  She located her keys, but instead of opening the Jeep she leaned against it, looking west toward the immense Sierra peaks, as tumbled and jagged as the jealousy that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her soul. It had been there ever since Arch came to town and fell in love with Mandy. But now the jealousy encompassed the bar, too. Because once again, something she’d wanted had been scooped up by someone else. Someone who couldn’t appreciate it the way she did.

  She shouldn’t keep working here. Not if it ate at her like this. Not if it was going to bring her to this place where she didn’t want to be, wishing so badly for what someone else had.

  She’d lied to Tyler about not being able to work today. About having something on her calendar. She had nothing. Just a pile of self-help books and a long afternoon in front of her. Maybe she’d make use of it to fill out an application for a job at the High Country Sports Bar. Because clearly it was time for a change.

  * * *

  TYLER PULLED HIS truck alongside his father’s cattle barn and cut the engine. A ranch hand had pointed him this way, saying that his father was here looking over a new bull. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the spring sunshine on his face. The warmth felt good after all the tension this morning. He still couldn’t decide what was worse. His challenging staff meeting, or learning that his dad had fired Garth.

  There was also the way he kept thinking about Kit. That wasn’t great, either. Because she was beautiful and sexy as hell, and he had no business noticing that. Maybe it was a little twisted, but he’d kind of liked the way she stood up to him. He wasn’t used to it. The women he met on the road were drawn to him because they liked rodeo cowboys. They’d flirted with him and fawned on him more with each victory. Kit, on the other hand, seemed totally unimpressed. It was strangely refreshing.

  Tyler shoved his shoulder into the door of his truck when he opened it, not because it was stuck shut but because he needed the impact to jar him out of his reverie. Kit was his employee, and hopefully, still his friend. He should just be grateful for her help with the schedule today.

  He should be focused on the injustice his dad had done to hers.

  “Dad,” he called as he stepped into the barn. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the shadows and spotted his dad at the end of the center aisle. He walked toward him, trying to assemble the words he needed to say into some kind of coherent order.

  “Tyler.” His dad nodded at his approach. “Check out Red Letter.”

  The Hereford bull was knee-deep in straw, chewing on alfalfa hay. He eyed Tyler balefully, so much calmer than the bulls he’d faced in the arena. “Looks too mellow to get much done with the heifers.”

  Talking cattle was about the only time Tyler saw his dad smile. “Don’t underestimate him. Give him his own herd and no tough Angus bulls to compete with, and he’ll do just fine.”

  “You’re cross-breeding. Doesn’t that reduce the price when you sell?”

  “A little,” his dad said. “But it strengthens the herd in the long run.” He turned away from the bull and fixed his piercing gaze on Tyler. “You miss the bulls? Is that why you came by?”

  “I miss them a little, but it’s not why I’m here. I came by to talk about Garth Hayes.”

  His dad looked startled. Then worried. “Is he okay?”

  “Depends on what you mean by okay. According to Kit, you fired him.”

  His father’s face drew into harsher lines. “I did. He wasn’t pulling his weight.”

  “I’m sure he was doing all he could. He’s getting older, but the guy can still work.”

  “If he wants to work, he can. Just not here.”

  “And who the hell is going to hire him?” Tyler tried to keep his voice steady, but frustration cut through his tone. “He should be allowed to grow old working here, on the ranch he’s given everything to. Why don’t you want him here anymore? Did he do something wrong?”

  “Not really. But now that your brothers are taking on so much responsibility, we just didn’t need him anymore.”

  A deep breath stemmed the fury that threatened to erupt at his father’s cold dismissal
of a loyal man. Sometimes it seemed like his wife’s death had siphoned all the compassion out of Ken’s soul.

  Tyler willed away the feeling that he was a kid about to get his ideas shot down by his dad one more time. “He’s got no money. He isn’t receiving much of his pension.”

  Annoyance drew his dad’s thick gray eyebrows together. “I already told that daughter of his that Garth’s pension situation is out of my control. He borrowed against it and never repaid the money. If he has a complaint about that, he has to contact the folks who manage the pension fund.”

  “You know full well that the pension fund isn’t going to help him out. And did it ever occur to you that the reason he never paid back that loan is maybe you didn’t pay him enough? When was the last time you gave your ranch hands a raise?”

  “They make plenty,” his father snapped. “What, you want me to pay off their gambling debts, too? Their bar tabs? I have grown men working for me and I expect them to handle their own finances.”

  “And I’m sure most of them do. But Garth worked for you almost his entire adult life. He put in twelve-plus hour days, whether the sun was blistering or the snow was piled deep. He was here on Thanksgiving and Christmas, making sure things ran smoothly while we were all inside enjoying our dinner. He took that loan out because he’s an honorable man who felt obligated to provide for his wife, even though she left him. Don’t you think we should help him out?”

  His father’s face went pale with a rage Tyler hadn’t seen since the day he told his father he was hitting the road to rodeo full time. “I have fulfilled my obligations to Garth, and to all of my other employees.”

  Tyler pulled out his last ace. It was just a guess, but it was worth a try. “What do you have against him? What did he do to you? Is this about how he taught me to ride a bull?”

  His father flinched and Tyler knew his guess had some merit.