The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  “Sure. Unless you think your daughter will mind.”

  “It’s not her decision.”

  Nonetheless, Nate would let Reese know. And if she objected, he’d devise a plan B.

  Chewing on a bite of bacon, he asked, “Well? Time’s a wastin’.”

  Theo awkwardly pushed back from the table. “Don’t think you’re picking out my clothes for me, young man.”

  “Just as well. My taste in clothes is lacking.”

  Feeling rather pleased with himself, Nate finished his breakfast while Theo made his way to his bedroom. So far, his second day in Mustang Valley was getting off to a great start.

  Chapter Five

  “Friday and Saturday nights are reserved for bull riding,” Bess said, “starting at seven. Barrel racing is Saturday afternoons from two to four.”

  She, Nate and Theo stood at the arena fence behind the Poco Dinero, going over precisely how the recreational rodeo events would work.

  Nate had heard of this growing sport, open to retired professionals and amateurs alike, but hadn’t actually been to an event. He had a lot to learn.

  “The Lost Dutchman Rodeo Company in Apache Junction is the closest place for us to rent bulls,” Bess continued. “They have a good reputation and are offering a fair price if we sign a six-month contract. The owner’s been here to see our setup, but I’d like an inspection of his bulls before I agree.”

  She rolled a lollipop from one side of her mouth to the other while she talked. Nate pegged her as a former smoker and the habit a leftover from when she’d quit.

  “That’s where you come in,” she told him. “I figure you’ve been around bulls enough to recognize quality bucking stock when you see it.”

  “I can drive over there tomorrow morning, if you want.”

  “I have the owner’s name and number in my office. He seems like a decent fellow.”

  “He’s very reputable,” Theo concurred. “Been in the business a long time.”

  Bess nodded at him. “That’s good to know.”

  Nate had explained the caregiver situation when he’d arrived. She hadn’t minded at all that he’d brought Theo with him or seemed worried Nate’s other duties would interfere with his work for her. She and Theo both commented on their long-standing friendship, which might account in part for her understanding. He not only was a favorite customer of hers, they belonged to the same local business owners association.

  Nate and Theo had been at the saloon for over two hours. There’d been paperwork for Nate to complete, a lengthy briefing of how the recreational bull riding and barrel racing events would operate, an introduction to Bess’s assistant manager, Elena, who would also be helping Nate and Ronnie, a more in-depth tour of the facility and, lastly, an examination of the equipment.

  Bess had asked lots of questions, seeking Nate’s opinion on almost everything. He was flattered and determined not to disappoint her. During a few minutes when Theo was otherwise occupied, Nate and Bess had discussed his wages and the job’s perks.

  She added the promise of a raise if all went well and a gas allowance for any trips he made, including the one tomorrow to Apache Junction. She was agreeable with him taking off the next two weekends in order to accompany Sam to her rodeos, but he needed to be available every Thursday through Sunday after that. Best of all, she offered him a small advance on his pay, going so far as insisting when he turned her down.

  It was a good feeling, being gainfully employed and having a roof over his head, even if that roof was the living quarters in his horse trailer.

  Nate cautioned himself not to become complacent. Things could—and had—drastically changed, and without much warning.

  About the time he and Bess finished up, Nate noticed Theo getting tired, though he insisted he was raring to go. He’d done a lot of walking today for someone who should be using a cane but refused.

  “We’d better hit the road,” Nate suggested after Bess handed him gas money and had him sign a receipt. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow before I leave.”

  She smiled, deepening the many wrinkles on her face. “I think I’m going to enjoy working with you, Nate.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.”

  He didn’t tell Theo about meeting Ronnie for Sam’s barrel racing practice, certain the older man would ask to go with him. His painfully slow movements screamed fatigue, and he needed to rest, whether he wanted to or not.

  At home, Flora prepared them both a light lunch. Nate pretended to have an interest in some breaking news. When they were done eating, Theo invited Nate to the family room where they turned on the TV. Within minutes after sitting in his recliner, Theo nodded off, and Nate left.

  He called Reese while driving to Powell Ranch and reported in. She’d been a little reluctant to let her father accompany Nate that morning. When she heard how well the outing went, relief flooded her voice.

  “He’ll be talking about this for weeks.”

  “Do you need me to come back tonight?” Nate asked. “Help him get ready for bed?”

  “Gabe will be home this afternoon. I think the two of us can manage. But we have plans for tomorrow evening. If you could watch him...”

  “No problem. Happy to do it.” Nate likely wouldn’t be getting much sleep, what with himself, Ronnie and Sam leaving at 6:00 a.m. for the Kingman rodeo. “Don’t forget, I’ll be gone this weekend. But if Sam places high enough, I won’t need any more time off.”

  “No worries.”

  They discussed the trip to Apache Junction and whether or not Theo would go along.

  “Let’s wait to see how he is in the morning,” Reese said. “Parkinson’s is day-to-day.”

  So was cystic fibrosis.

  Powell Ranch was busier than Nate had expected. Only while he was walking from the parking area to the barrel racing arena did he learn the reason. According to a nearby chatty couple, the huge golf tournament in north Scottsdale had drawn a flood of tourists to town and guided trail rides were going out every hour.

  Nate wandered over to the bleachers and took a seat in the second row. Spotting Sam astride Ronnie’s horse, waiting for her turn at a practice run, he waved. She shouted something at him that sounded like, “Watch this!”

  His gaze traveled the immediate vicinity, searching for Ronnie. He didn’t see her anywhere, which struck him as odd. Shouldn’t she be observing Sam when her turn came?

  A young woman on a strikingly marked paint gelding burst into the arena for her run. The horse might be eye-catching, Nate decided, but he was sluggish. Worse, they knocked over the last barrel. One of the helpers, an older kid of twelve or thirteen, hurried over to lift and reposition the barrel.

  Nate half expected Sam to come galloping into the arena next. Instead, another rider on a dark bay did. His heart recognized her a microsecond before his brain did. Ronnie!

  She flew around the first barrel, her blond ponytail streaming out behind her from underneath her cowboy hat. Whatever cues she gave the horse were so subtle, so precise, they were barely noticeable. Yet, the horse responded instantly, his long legs a blur. While rounding the second barrel, horse and rider leaned into the turn at such a sharp angle, Nate swore Ronnie could reach down and touch the ground with her fingertips if she tried.

  She cut the turn a hair too close on the third barrel, and it wobbled precariously for several seconds. Nate didn’t release his breath until the barrel settled into place. No penalty for that.

  Finishing her near perfect run, she urged the horse for all he was worth, and they sped past the electric timer. A scattering of applause erupted as she slowed the heavily breathing horse to a trot.

  “That’s how it’s done,” a woman near Nate commented.

  He had to agree. Ronnie was spectacular, six years ago and now. The rush of emotions he’d always experienced when watching her filled his chest.
Part pride. Part amazement. Part appreciation. Part love.

  Wait. Not that last one. He was simply sliding into old habits, though he surely did admire her abilities. Yes, and her form.

  She looked good in the saddle. Slim, athletic, graceful and confident. Oh, hell, she’d looked good all the time, including when she first woke up in the morning. He’d liked her best with mussed hair, a rumpled night shirt and sleepy eyes. Mostly because she’d reminded him of their night together. Her warm and giving body snuggled next to him. His arm draped over her waist. The scent of her soft skin when he pressed his face into her neck...

  At the familiar stirring in his middle, he banished the memories. Recalling intimate moments with Ronnie would serve no purpose. Hadn’t he already learned that lesson the hard way during the last six years?

  Another rider entered the arena and took her run at the barrels. Nate could see Sam readying for her turn, taking her place on deck. By the time the other rider finished, Sam was in position.

  “She looked good when she was warming up earlier.”

  Startled, Nate turned sideways as Ronnie sat down beside him on the bleachers. Worried she’d hear his heart’s sudden pounding, he scooted over to give her more space.

  “Yeah?” Could he come up with a lamer response? “Where’s your horse?” That was almost as bad.

  “Another student is cooling him down for me. She’ll be giving him a go here shortly.”

  “I figured you’d be watching Sam’s run from behind the gate.”

  “I want you to look at something.”

  “The late cue to change leads we talked about yesterday?”

  Ronnie shook her head. “There’s more. Watch her hands.”

  She’d barely finished speaking when Sam came charging into the arena on Comanche. While not quite as impressive a run as Ronnie’s, the teenager did well. At least, she started out well. Nate kept his attention glued to her hands. After she rounded the last barrel, Sam took her right hand off the saddle horn, pushing the horse to even greater speed. It was then he saw what Ronnie was talking about.

  “She’s tugging on the reins.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “It’s slight,” he said, “but enough to confuse the horse.”

  “You mind being the one to broach the subject? I think she’ll be more receptive to you. She and I have been having trouble communicating recently.”

  “Why is that?”

  Ronnie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m harder on her than my other students. Maybe she’s less willing to listen to me because I’m her older sister and didn’t initially welcome her with open arms.”

  “But that changed, right?”

  “Sure. Of course. In the end, Sam is family. Doesn’t make reconciling with our past any easier. We’re mostly on solid ground now, despite the occasional rough patch.”

  “Don’t forget, she’s still on the outs with her mom. They were extremely close until Sam learned she’d been lied to her entire life about Ray being her father. And because she and her mom are fighting, Sam hasn’t seen her adoptive dad and two younger brothers in almost six months. That’s a lot for someone her age to deal with.”

  “Believe me,” Ronnie said, “I understand being on the outs with a parent. Dad and I have had our share of difficulties.”

  Like when Ronnie learned he’d had a child with another woman and never mentioned it? That would be enough to test the best of relationships.

  “Sam’s also stressed over Nationals,” he added. “She gets that way before a big competition.”

  “And I’m stressed trying to see she finals.” Ronnie rubbed a temple as if it throbbed.

  “If it’s any consolation, you looked as good as ever when you took your run before. Sam couldn’t have a better teacher.”

  “Thanks.” She actually sounded appreciative. “And while we’re in the mood for compliments, you were really good with Theo last night.”

  “It’s hard for a man like him to depend on others. Allan was the same way. I figured it was better to treat Theo as a friend rather than acting like a caregiver or a nurse.”

  “I’ve never seen that side of you before. Then again, I didn’t know you when your brother was alive.” Her voice softened, as did her entire demeanor. “I’m impressed, Nate. More so I think than when you were winning titles.”

  “Tell me more.” He took advantage of the change in her to inch a little closer.

  She glanced up, and their gazes connected. Held. Ignited. She seemed to be searching his face for some answer. To what? Unable to resist the strong pull, he dipped his head.

  And, like that, she withdrew. “Doesn’t change the fact we shouldn’t have kissed last night.”

  Okay. Shot down. Quickly and thoroughly and not unexpectedly.

  Nate attempted to brush off the incident by making light of it. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “What about this morning? How’d it go?” She was all business again.

  “Oh, you know. Theo put up a fight at first. His pride insisted on that. I wound up taking him with me to the Poco Dinero, which he seemed to enjoy.”

  “And that went well? For you, not Theo.”

  “Bess officially offered me the job.”

  “I see.” She glanced away, her eyes tracking the next rider and horse as they executed their run.

  “We’re both adults, Ronnie. We can work together. If you recall, we were once a pretty good team.”

  “That was different. And a long time ago.” Her jaw tightened, signaling the end of any personal discussion.

  Nate sat back, satisfied with the knowledge she still cared, whether she admitted it or not. Though what good that would do either of them remained to be seen. It could, now that he thought about it, make spending time together even harder for both of them.

  * * *

  “I NEED TO sign in.” Sam glanced anxiously about as she hastily gathered her long blond hair into a ponytail. “My event starts in less than an hour.”

  “Go on,” Ronnie told her, thinking how often she’d done the same thing with her hair and at the same speed. “Nate and I will get Comanche ready.”

  They’d parked in the large dirt lot reserved for competitors and quickly unloaded Ronnie’s horse. While waiting on Nate, who’d had to park his truck in the public lot on the opposite side of the fairgrounds, they’d wiped down Sam’s saddle, bridle and boots until the leather gleamed.

  “What if I don’t have time to warm up first?” Sam lamented.

  “Standing around here won’t help.” Ronnie pointed in the direction of the rodeo arena. “Hurry. I’ll lay out your clothes.”

  Honestly. Teenagers. Always requiring a swift push in the right direction.

  They’d arrived late in Kingman for the rodeo. Though they’d left Mustang Valley early enough, an unexpected detour from a hazardous material spill on the highway had added almost two hours to their drive time.

  Finally, Sam hurried off in search of the registration booth. Her event was scheduled immediately following the lunch break and entertainment portion of the rodeo. Less than an hour away. No wonder she was frazzled.

  Ronnie had been like that, too, back when she competed. And this was an important rodeo for Sam. If she placed high enough, she’d qualify for Nationals and could skip next weekend’s rodeo. A lot lay on the line.

  Ronnie gave Comanche an affectionate pat. “You can do it, pal. I’m counting on you. Get her to Nationals, and we just might find you a buyer.”

  Sam hadn’t been entirely wrong about Ronnie’s motives when it came to using Comanche. She had the chance to make a tidy profit on the horse if she could add more wins to his record. That didn’t alter the fact that Sam’s horse was nowhere near ready to use, not without risk of reinjuring his leg.

  “What can I do?” Nate’s voice dis
tracted Ronnie, and she turned to see his tall, wide-shouldered frame striding toward her.

  Catching the breath that almost escaped, she asked, “You mind brushing him down while I repair his mane and tail?”

  He answered her by reaching for the brush.

  The previous evening, Sam had painstakingly braided Comanche’s mane and tail, interweaving blue and red ribbons. During the long ride, several braids and ribbons had come loose. Ronnie used a small step stool to provide enough height that she could reach the top of Comanche’s mane. As she looked down at Nate, now busily cleaning the horse’s hooves with a pick and washrag, she was instantly thrown back in time.

  He’d always been there for her, she recalled. Even at their worst, when they were arguing about whether or not she should compete that last time right before her miscarriage, he’d been at her side.

  Stop! she told herself. One little kiss from Nate was no reason to race headlong down memory lane.

  Well, not such a little kiss. She’d definitely felt the sparks, as Nate had annoyingly pointed out.

  Oh, hell, she’d felt the sparks three days ago when he’d strolled out of nowhere and back into her life.

  “What next?”

  Nate’s question derailed her thoughts, for which she was grateful. Hopping down from the step stool, she placed a hand on Comanche’s neck for balance. “Let’s saddle him up.”

  They worked together as easily and efficiently as always, right down to the small talk.

  “How are early sign-ups coming for your barrel racing event?”

  “Not bad.” She secured a braid before moving on to the next. “Most are my students. A handful are recently retired from the circuit. There’s one or two brave amateurs, I noticed.”

  “Are you going to enter?”

  She laughed. “Even if it wasn’t against the rules, I’d pass.”

  “Why? I watched your run the other day. You could return to competing no problem.”

  “I’m too old.”

  “Wasn’t there some woman who recently earned a title at fifty-nine?”