Walker: The Rodeo Legend

by Rebecca Winters

  “That’s the problem, Dad. I don’t know what I want.” He had one idea that had nothing to do with the horses or the cattle, but he wasn’t about to discuss it with his father tonight.

  “So what you’re saying is, military life offered you more than anything the ranch could. If that’s the case, how come you bothered to come home at all?” His withering tone caused Walker to struggle for breath.

  “When I got injured, I couldn’t go back into combat for a couple of months. While I was in the hospital, I decided to resign my commission.”

  His father’s expression froze. “How come you didn’t tell anybody?”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “So you’re just going to stay up at the cabin and waste away out of sight? Is that it?”

  “Not exactly. I’m doing rehab at the VA clinic in Powell trying to follow my doctor’s advice.”

  “That’s good.”

  “But it means I need a little time.”

  “Time be damned, son! I thought the Marines were supposed to teach you how to be a man and take responsibility. To stay up on the mountain alone isn’t normal and doesn’t sound like any son of mine.”

  Nope. Walker had always been different from the others, and now his father was saying it.

  “Are you on drugs?” He took hold of his arm. “That’s the kind of weird you learn in the military I don’t like.”

  “I’m not on anything.”

  “You’d better not be!”

  “I assure you that’s the last thing I’d want to do.”

  “Let’s hope so. You’re a Cody. You’re supposed to be tough!” He let go of him and spread his hands wide. “I built this house so all my children could stay here if they want. Your room’s ready and waiting for you. Move in here and we’ll fatten you up.”

  “You’re very generous, Dad. You always have been. Please don’t think I’m not appreciative of all you and Mother do for me, but I’ve been on my own for years now.

  “You can’t honestly expect me to live with my parents.”

  “I didn’t mean forever.” By now his face had gone a ruddy color.

  “I realize that.”

  The chasm kept widening. “Just don’t you go disappointing me by drinking yourself to death or some such nonsense!”

  “I don’t drink or smoke, either. Doctor’s orders.”

  His father cleared his throat. “I’m glad to hear it. You trust this doctor in Powell?”

  “Yes. He’s exceptional and knows what he’s doing. I was at his support group last night.”

  J.W. scratched his head. “That’s fine, but you’ve got a support group out there at the pool. The best one you could ever ask for.”

  “I know that. I love all of them.”

  “Then show it! Be with us. Get back to your old self! Your mother puts up a good front, but for you to come home after all this time and still want to be alone is eating her alive.”

  He couldn’t handle talk about hurting his mother, not after what his father had done to her. Walker’s hand reached for the jade talisman like a lifeline, only to remember once again that he’d given it to Clay.

  “Let’s join the others.” Without waiting for his dad’s response, he walked around to the pool once more. Everyone had jumped back in except for Jesse.

  “Come on in!” Elly called to him.

  “Another time.”

  “Ah, come on!” Dusty kept it up.

  “I would, but I’ve had some surgery and it’s not a pretty sight.”

  “Likely excuse,” Dex teased.

  Walker looked around. His parents had gone in the house. This might be the best time to show them so they wouldn’t think he was being deliberately aloof. “Jesse’s already seen my mark of bravery. Since you guys already know what a bull can do to us in the arena, this shouldn’t be anything new.”

  He turned to the side and pulled the shirt out of his waistband, lifting it up so they could see the part of his anatomy that was scarred. “It goes down my hip. There were three of us that got hit with an IED. I was the lucky one who came home.”

  A collective gasp came from his siblings. It was called shock therapy for your loved ones. This peep show was enough for tonight. They didn’t want to know what was going on inside of him.…

  EARLY THURSDAY MORNING, Paula dressed in jeans and a straw-colored sweater before heading out to the Cottonwood Ranch. As she drove up to the side of the Cody ranch house she noticed there were a couple of trucks in the parking area.

  She’d brought Clay with her. While she worked, she would push him along in his stroller. He was especially good-natured in the morning, which was the best time for her to walk around and do a few quick sketches.

  She wanted to be here as the light peered over the mountain. That way she could see where the rays illuminated several gentle slopes she had in mind for the gardeners to plant bulbs of yellow tulips and white daffodils with yellow centers. More yellows were needed among the plantings on the east side. If she found the right spot, it would look as if golden flowers had just spilled from the sun.

  After finishing one drawing, she moved on to the west side of the ranch house, where she worked up a sketch for splashes of purple, burgundy and pink tulips planted together to provide a foil for the greenery. When the sun’s rays slanted on that part of the grounds, the explosion of colors would remain in the beholder’s mind long after the sun had fallen below the horizon.

  An hour later, after she’d filled in the sketches with quick-drying acrylics to bring colorful life to the paper, she phoned Walker’s mother as prearranged and asked her to meet her outside.

  Once upon a time, Paula had thought of her as Anne Cody, but no longer. The trim woman in Western clothing walking toward her like a young girl had given birth to five children, but in Paula’s mind none were as remarkable as her second-born son.

  No matter how hard she tried, Paula couldn’t rout him from her consciousness the way you might remove the intrusive day lily from a carefully tended garden. His roots had sunk deep in her psyche and were there to stay.

  “Good morning, you two!” Anne walked right over to Clay, who was playing with a puzzle toy in his stroller. She gave him a kiss. “I swear he gets bigger every time I see him.”

  “He’s heavier, too,” Paula said wryly. “How are you, Anne? You’re looking well.”

  Her keen blue glance darted to Paula. “I can’t complain.”

  No, but the older woman wasn’t jumping for joy, either. The artist in Paula detected a trace of sorrow in the lines around her eyes and mouth.

  Every family had its problems. As Paula’s mother used to say, at any given moment she was only as happy as her saddest child. Maybe that’s what was wrong with Anne Cody, who knew her son had been suffering since his return from war. Much as she wanted to talk to her about Walker, she didn’t dare.

  Keepings things to business, Paula handed her the sketch pad. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”

  Anne lifted the cover. “Oh, Paula…” she cried.

  The satisfying reaction was all she could ask for. “That’s a grouping of Queen of the Night, Burgundy Lace and Greenland tulips.” She pointed out the area where she envisioned them planted.

  “It surpasses anything I had imagined.”

  Paula smiled. “I’m glad. Now take a look at the next page. The flowers will be planted on the slopes at the east side of the house. Here you see the Golden Apeldoorn Darwin tulips planted with Golden Echo daffodils. The spots of color are California poppies. I’ve written all the names down for your gardener.”

  “This is really fabulous, Paula.”

  “I’m glad you like them. I’ll leave both drawings with you to show your husband and the gardener. You might want to add more colors and can talk it over with them.” She removed the pages from her sketchbook.

  Anne lifted her gaze to Paula. “Everyone who comes here raves about the landscaping. When these flowers bloom next spring, they’ll bring cro
wds of people. I’m thrilled to death over what you’ve designed.”

  “If this is what you had pictured in your mind, then I’m pleased. Now I’d better get going. Clay has been remarkably good this morning, but now it’s time to go home for a diaper change and a snack.”

  “Won’t you come in the house? Barbara will make him something.”

  “Another time and I’d love to, but I have to get back to work on a project waiting for me.”

  “I understand. I’ve got work myself.”

  They walked as far as the front entrance. Before Anne went back in the house she paused. “My son Walker isn’t one to comment about anything unless he means it, so I have to tell you something he said to me at our family party last night.”

  Paula’s pulse rate picked up just to hear his name mentioned. She was glad he’d been with them.

  “He told me the food’s perfect and so is the landscaping.”

  Those words meant a lot coming from his mother. “That’s nice to hear. I’ll always be grateful for his quick reflexes at the dog parade. Your son is a remarkable man.”

  Anne’s eyes grew cloudy. “I hope one day he begins to believe it.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for coming out here this morning. My husband says you can do no wrong. Wait until he sees these!” She gave Paula a hug and went inside the house.

  A little giddy that Walker had praised her work, Paula pushed the stroller around the house to the parking area. She opened the rear passenger door. “In you go, sweetheart.”

  As she started to fasten Clay in his car seat, a truck pulled up next to her. Her heart thudded in her chest to see it was a black truck. She groaned.

  Walker shot her an indefinable glance before levering himself from the cab with consummate male grace. He wore a long-sleeved hunter-green shirt and Levi’s tucked into his cowboy boots. She had to admit his looks were even more compelling when he needed a shave.

  Before either of them spoke, Clay made excited sounds that drew their attention. As Walker moved closer, her son extended his hands and tried to get out of his car seat to reach Walker.

  “Hey, sport.” A smile broke out on Walker’s face, transforming him into someone impossibly handsome. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He glanced at Paula. “Do you mind if I hold him?”

  Tongue-tied, she gestured that it was okay. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he undid the restraint and pulled Clay out of the car seat. Her son hugged him in obvious delight. Incredible. Paula watched Walker carry Clay around while he talked to him.

  “It looks like you’re all over your fright of the other day.” He stopped in front of Paula, sending her a frank stare. “Did he have any nightmares after the incident with the bear?”

  “No. He’s been fine.”

  “That’s good.” He cocked his dark head. “I take it you’ve been out here working already this morning.”

  “Yes.”

  “With my mother?”

  “Yes.” Good grief… Couldn’t she talk in more than monosyllables? “A-are you feeling more settled in?” she stammered.

  “Do you mean, am I getting back to my old routine? I guess I am. Later today I’m leaving for California.”

  “You’re taking a trip?”

  “Not exactly. I’m flying down to the rodeo in Redding for the weekend with the family.”

  Her head lifted. “Does this mean you’re only supplying moral support, or are you returning to the rodeo yourself?”

  “Both. Of course the latter depends on my not being over the hill.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” she bit out before she could recall the words. “After the way you handled yourself at the dog parade, I’d say you haven’t lost any of your speed.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” came his mocking reply.

  “You’re welcome.”

  The tension between them was explosive. “So are you a fan of steer wrestling?” he asked.

  “I’ve only been to one rodeo in my life. That must have been when I was about twelve. My brother’s a different story however. Kip and his best friend used to enter local bulldogging events and both have the mended broken bones to prove it.”

  His green eyes kindled with interest. “Where was this?”

  “In Idaho.”

  “You’re not from Wyoming, then?”

  “No. I was brought up on a ranch outside Rexburg.”

  “What kind?”

  “A small one. Compared to the Cottonwood Ranch, it’s miniscule. Dad grows barley, sugar beets and alfalfa. Kip’s in business with him.”

  “Is he married?”

  “No. As he continues to tell my parents, he’s only twenty-seven and has years yet.”

  Walker’s lips twitched. Her heart turned over when he looked like that. “Do you ride when you go home for visits?”

  “Yes. Dad has a mare called Trixie. I usually take her out for exercise. Kip has his own quarter horse, Lefty. He always had a dream to compete in the pro rodeo circuit as a steer wrestler, but he wasn’t good enough. Certainly nothing like you.”

  He slanted her a glance. “That means my father was talking out of school again. I’m afraid he has a one-track mind when it comes to the rodeo. I’m sorry you had to be a captive audience while you worked with him.”

  “I found it fascinating. Your parents told me you won the world steer-wrestling championship seven years ago. The other day while I was talking to Kip on the phone and told him I’d met you, he almost had a heart attack. I didn’t know it, but he mounted a bunch of posters in the barn and you’re on one of them.”

  Walker scoffed. “The barn’s where those posters belong.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Is it true what I heard about your best friend?”

  He looked away. “Afraid so. While he was in the box, his horse reared for some reason. It threw his head against the bar, and he suffered a fatal concussion.”

  A shudder rocked her body. “That’s horrible. What was his name?”

  “Troy Pearsoll. It happened at the Cody Roundup.”

  A long silence ensued before she said, “How long ago did he die?”

  “It’s been six years.”

  She swallowed hard. “Is that why you became a Marine?”

  “If that’s what my father told you, he’s wrong.”

  His withering delivery stopped her cold. So did his news about getting back into competition. According to Kip, the steers used on the national pro circuit raised the bar of danger to another level altogether.

  Wishing she hadn’t asked so many questions, she averted her eyes and went around to stash the stroller and other things in the trunk. “If you wouldn’t mind putting Clay in the car seat, I need to get home and back to work.”

  “Did you hear that?” He spoke to Clay as he fastened him inside. “Your mommy says you have to leave. Be a good boy for her, sport.” With another kiss to Clay’s temple, he shut the door.

  “Walker,” she called out at the last second, “if I’d known we would happen to see each other here, I would have brought your jade piece with me.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She wished she didn’t. She wished she could erase him from her consciousness, but was finding it impossible. Now to learn he was getting back to a dangerous sport that had killed his best friend, her concern for him had just been raised another dozen notches. At this point he was going to need more than luck.

  “All you have to do is come by the apartment on your way to or from therapy one of these days. Give me a call first and I’ll leave the jade out on top of the milk box for you.”

  His expression remained inscrutable before he gave her a nod that meant he’d heard what she’d said, but he made no verbal commitment. Leaving her at a loss, he strode around the house until he was out of sight. No doubt he’d come to visit his parents.

  Paula started her car and drove out to the main road leading to the Cottonwood Ranch entrance. By the time she passed beneath the antle
r arch, she had to accept the fact that she’d come down with a bad case of what she could only describe as pervasive walkeritis. There didn’t appear to be any known cure.

  ALL YOU HAVE TO DO is come by the apartment on your way to or from therapy.

  Was that code to mean Paula wanted to see him again?

  His lips thinned. Hell no. Not if she planned to leave his gift on the milk box! Once a widow, always a widow. If that was the message she’d intended to send him, he’d received it in spades!

  In a foul mood, Walker hurried inside to find his mother. She’d begged him to give her his packet of pictures from Iraq for a scrapbook she was making. While he was here, he decided to get the boxes from his room that held his college books and papers.

  Little did he realize that in coming here, he’d see Paula again. It sent every thought out of his head but one. He’d been trying to stay away from her, but they just kept bumping into each other. Got any strategies for that, Dr. Bader?

  After a short chat with his mother, who showed him Paula’s drawings for her bulb gardens, he hunted down the two boxes he needed and loaded them in the backseat of the truck. With that accomplished, he left to join his brothers.

  Paula filled his thoughts as he maneuvered the truck past the round and square pens. Morning or night, she was a knockout. Everything about her appealed to him. Why was he hung up on her when he knew he was poison to her? He needed his brain rewired.

  His teeth grated all the way to the open-air arena where he climbed out of the cab. In the distance he spotted a bunch of hands assembled while Dex and Dusty, mounted on their horses, were waiting for a steer to leap out of one of the chutes.

  Of the two, Dusty had always had the most talent in the team roping and was the header, but Dex, the heeler, displayed beauty of motion on a horse.

  Walker watched in anticipation, waiting for the steer to be released, but the second it leaped out of the chute he could see its hind legs wouldn’t hop.

  Dusty rode out on a big bay. He stayed to the left of the steer and threw a graceful loop around the horns, but Dex reined in his chestnut, not bothering to tie up the feet. “That’s the second dragger in this new bunch,” he muttered in disgust, resettling his cowboy hat in frustration. “Dad’s not going to be happy about this latest shipment of steers.”