The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  “Rest assured—” Ronnie also pushed to her feet “—I took a verbal beating from Nate for my inconsiderate behavior.”

  “He has a right to be angry. He stood by you, didn’t blame you for the miscarriage and defended you to his mom even when it damaged his relationship with his entire family. And don’t forget he proposed. Most women would do anything for a boyfriend like that.”

  “I made a decision at the time that I thought was the right one. We were miserable, and I saw no sense prolonging the inevitable.”

  “Be honest, you were miserable. Him, not as much and only because of how you treated him.”

  The remark hit home, as Mel had surely intended. Ronnie swallowed and attempted to shake off the pain.

  “All right, I was miserable. Drowning in it and seeing no end. I truly thought that by cutting all ties and getting away quickly, Nate and I could move on and heal.”

  That was what her father had done with Sam’s mother at the end of their affair. Granted, the circumstances were entirely different, and Ronnie hadn’t known about the affair at the time of her breakup with Nate. But upon learning about it, she’d empathized with her father.

  On that one aspect, anyway. Other aspects, like her father’s lying, had required more time to get past.

  “Only you didn’t move on and heal,” Mel said. “Neither you nor Nate.”

  Had she and Frankie learned about Nate’s difficulties these past years? Ronnie didn’t ask, insisting, “We’re fine. Just peachy.”

  “You were selfish.” Mel apparently wasn’t done scolding Ronnie. “Thinking only of yourself.”

  “Not true! I couldn’t marry him, and staying would have just given him false hope.”

  Mel sent her an accusing look. “Neither of you has been in a serious relationship since your split. He practically dropped off the face of the earth while you ran home and went into hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding!”

  “Oh, please.” Mel rolled her eyes and sat back down on the recliner, sinking all the way up to her elbows. “When’s the last time you went on a date? Or anywhere that didn’t involve a student and a rodeo or a family gathering?”

  “I’m helping the mustang sanctuary with their booth at the Holly Daze Festival next week.”

  Mel uttered a sound of disgust. “That doesn’t count.”

  “I’m too busy to date.”

  “Maybe what you are is still in love with Nate and he with you.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.” She spoke forcefully, as much to convince herself as Mel.

  “Attending the bull riding event tonight will go a long way in showing Nate there are no hard feelings and you support him.”

  Ronnie grumbled under her breath.

  “Come on. Half the town will be there and surely people from Scottsdale and Cave Creek and maybe even farther away. Bring a big stack of business cards to pass out.”

  “You’ve convinced me.” Ronnie threw up her hands in surrender. “But only because I want to show you how wrong you are. Plus, I do need to recruit a few more barrel racers for tomorrow if I hope to make a decent showing.”

  “We’ll swing by at six to pick you up.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll drive myself.”

  “Oh? Planning an early escape and need your own set of wheels?”

  “Will you quit it? I’m not planning an escape.” She heaved a frustrated groan. “You win. Be here at six.”

  Mel laughed and was still laughing when she waddled out the front door a short time later. Her leaving couldn’t have come soon enough for Ronnie, who’d been getting ready to give her sister the boot regardless of her out-to-there pregnant belly.

  She took her time getting dressed for the evening. Best jeans. Shiny red leather boots. The robin’s-egg blue western-cut shirt with red piping. Her favorite Kate Spade purse that she’d scrimped and saved for half a year to buy. A touch more makeup than usual, only because floodlights tended to give her face a washed-out appearance and not to impress Nate.

  Rather than accompanying her family to the arena, she had them drop her off in front of the Poco Dinero. She wanted to chat briefly with Bess’s assistant manager and check on the status of sign-ups for tomorrow.

  The very first thing she noticed was new posters on the walls alongside the ones advertising the recreational rodeo events. These were for the annual Valentine’s Day dance and dinner, less than three months away.

  Bess had been hosting the event for the past ten or twelve years and always gave it a big push. Ronnie had attended with her sisters back before she’d met Nate, and once with him when they’d stopped for a short visit on their way to a rodeo.

  How could she have forgotten about the dance and dinner? Especially since Frankie had mentioned repeatedly at Sam’s celebration cookout that she’d be catering the dinner. But Ronnie had forgotten, or at least put it from her mind. Seeing the posters triggered a shock wave that left her momentarily disconcerted.

  Nate wasn’t the only one not fit for company during the traditionally romantic holiday. Ronnie also preferred keeping to herself on Valentine’s Day, memories of Nate’s romantic proposal and her gut-wrenching rejection assailing her.

  All right, dammit. Mel was right. Again. Ronnie had retreated to the security and solitude of her home and family after leaving Nate. She hadn’t dated at all her first year home and only occasionally since then. Less chance of being hurt again.

  She’d refused to acknowledge the depths of her grief after losing the baby, made worse by the insensitive remarks Nate’s mother had made at the hospital when Ronnie was at her most vulnerable. Add to that her refusal to talk about what had happened with anyone, including Nate, and it had been easy to build an emotional wall around herself.

  Just like Nate had. The only difference between them was he’d taken his voluntary seclusion on the road.

  It was no way for either of them to live, and they were both paying a steep price. Ronnie had lost, no, given up, a man she’d loved to distraction. She’d also lost her lifelong dream of having a family, something she’d planned on starting right after winning a World Championship. On one fateful day, her entire future had been altered.

  Not altered, Ronnie reminded herself. Her dream of a family absolutely remained within reach. But every version of that dream included Nate. She’d been the one to let fear of loss, grief, guilt, and the imagined accusation she saw in his eyes drive a wedge between them.

  How to break the cycle? She wanted to, just couldn’t seem to accomplish it. Okay, that was wrong, too. She was simply too scared. Hiding out was easier.

  Her glance landed once again on the Valentine’s Day posters. There’d be no rodeo events that night, or probably not. Bess hadn’t said either way yet. What if Ronnie went to the dance—with a date? That would show Nate and her sisters and everyone else she was over him. Had moved on and healed.

  If he was still in Mustang Valley come February. Both of his jobs were on a trial basis, and things might not work out. Very likely, he’d get the itch to hop in his truck and travel to a new destination, as had been his habit these past six years.

  What did it matter? She’d go on a date regardless, even if she had to ask the guy herself. Enrico’s nephew had recently started working at The Small Change. He was attractive and, like her, in his late twenties. He’d also been more than a little friendly to her the last couple of times they’d run into each other.

  Decision made, Ronnie headed to the office to locate Elena, the assistant manager. To her relief, Elena reported that three more participants had signed up for the barrel racing. Ronnie wouldn’t be humiliated by low entries for her first event.

  Next, she strolled through the packed bar area and out the rear service door to the arena. Her family was already there and hailed her from their seats in the bleachers. If not for their waves and shouts, she wouldn
’t have spotted them. The stands were filled to their 150-person capacity.

  While climbing the steps, she noticed Theo McGraw sitting with her family. Not entirely unexpected—her father did work for the man and often gave him lifts around town.

  It was also possible Nate had brought Theo. Not only had the older man accompanied Nate to one of Sam’s practices, he’d been spotted riding as a passenger in Nate’s truck often enough people were commenting.

  Many of the remarks were about Theo looking healthier than he had for some time and getting around better. Also that his mood was considerably improved. All in a week and a half? Apparently Nate was the miracle worker Reese had called him, which, Ronnie supposed, decreased the chances of his part-time caregiver job not working out.

  For nearly six years he’d been traveling the country in search of a new direction and the emotional respite he so desperately needed.

  Was it a coincidence he was finding both in the town Ronnie called home? She was beginning to think maybe not.

  Chapter Eight

  “There you are,” Ronnie’s father said when she finally reached her family’s row in the stands.

  Everyone automatically shifted over to make room for her, everyone being her dad, stepmom, Frankie, Spence, their twin daughters, Mel, Aaron and his daughter, who happened to be best buddies with the twins.

  Quite the gathering, Ronnie observed. The Hartman clan was growing and would grow again with the birth of Mel’s baby. Ronnie was the only sister currently unattached. Even Sam had a boyfriend—the geeky tech student who worshipped the ground she walked on.

  Ronnie insisted she didn’t care. She was fine with her single status, thank you very much.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Frankie nudged her in the side.

  She’d squeezed in next to her oldest sister after waving and saying hello to the rest of her family.

  Theo occupied a seat in the middle and, if Ronnie wasn’t mistaken, was flirting a bit with the middle-aged woman in front of him. Honestly, did he never quit trying? Fortunately, the woman appeared to consider his overtures harmless and played along.

  “Fingers crossed nobody gets hurt the first night,” Frankie commented. “Bess is taking a real chance. A bad reputation could ruin her business.”

  Ronnie didn’t agree. “Wild Bill’s did really well with their recreational bull riding, and they had a few injuries over the years. It’s unavoidable and part of the appeal. You don’t know these cowboys like I do. They love the adrenaline rush and the thrill of walking away unscathed.”

  The restaurant in north Scottsdale had indeed been a popular spot for recreational bull riders. That was until their main building had burned to the ground, the result of an electrical fire.

  “I do too know cowboys,” Frankie countered. “I’m getting married to one.”

  “When is that, by the way?”

  “We’re thinking of March. We didn’t want to steal any of Mel and Aaron’s thunder. Let them enjoy being the newlyweds in the family for a while.”

  Ronnie listened to her sister while scanning the arena and holding pens for Nate. Several wranglers were herding the first of the bulls along the narrow, enclosed aisle connecting the pens and the bucking chutes. Excitement among the spectators noticeably mounted.

  Just like at any regular, sanctioned rodeo, cowboys sat atop the fences, hung from the rails or straddled the bucking chute walls. A good many men wore protective vests and helmets, a practice Ronnie heartily endorsed. When Nate had competed, he’d claimed the helmet blocked his vision and threw off his balance. It had been their one big, unresolved argument.

  If she brought up the subject today, he’d remind her that his worst injury had occurred when he’d fallen from the green-broke horse, miles away from the nearest bull. He’d say, “Just goes to show you there are no guarantees.”

  Every competitor tonight had signed a waiver and release of liability form. If not, they would be banned from the arena. The barrel racers were required to sign the same waiver and release. No one had raised a single eyebrow at this standard practice.

  Also like any regulation rodeo, two bullfighters roamed the arena and interacted with the crowd, particularly the children. Easily identified by their painted faces, straw cowboy hats and oversize denim cutoffs, their first job was to protect the cowboy from charging bulls, and their second was to entertain. They often took bigger risks than the men riding the bulls, and Ronnie greatly admired their courage.

  Hearing a rapid-fire trio of ear-splitting clangs, she looked over at the chutes to see a large black bull raising a ruckus. Kicking first with his hind legs, he rose up and thrust all of his eighteen hundred pounds forward. If not confined by the small space and high walls, he would have jumped out and likely charged the nearest person.

  On closer inspection, the nearest person was Nate! He clung to the chute wall, half in and half out.

  Ronnie instantly rose from her seat only to sit back down when Nate hauled himself to safety. The bull’s horns had missed him by perhaps two inches, but they had missed him.

  The next moment, he was hollering orders to the nearby hired wranglers. He then turned to the young man beside him, the first competitor to go according to the number he wore on his back. He was also the one about to ride this mammoth, uncontrolled beast. Judging by his expression, he was reconsidering.

  Nate patted the man on the back before heading off. The next minute, Ronnie lost sight of him. She tried not to let her anxiety show and buried her balled fists in the pockets of her hoodie.

  “Nervous or excited?” Frankie asked.

  “Both. I really hope tonight is a success.”

  “Are you kidding? The place is packed. Bess is making money hand over fist.”

  Ronnie hoped so, for Nate as well as herself.

  “You should be down there mingling and pitching your school, not sitting up here.”

  “I will. Later.”

  “Do you recognize any of the competitors?”

  “Some,” Ronnie said. “I’ve seen them at different rodeos. But I don’t watch bull riding like I used to.”

  “Nate probably knows them all.”

  “Maybe.” Ronnie squinted her eyes against the bright glare of the floodlights. “Isn’t that Enrico’s nephew in the blue shirt and white cowboy hat? Is he competing?”

  “I’d say yes. He’s wearing a vest.”

  “I had no idea he rode bulls.”

  “He must have some experience or he wouldn’t have signed up.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. Or he’s completely lacking common sense.” Perhaps she should reconsider asking him to be her date for the Valentine’s Day dance and dinner.

  Frankie drew back and scrutinized Ronnie. “Are you interested in him?”

  “I’ve met him at the ranch. He seems nice, and he’s Enrico’s nephew. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt if only for that reason. He just started working at The Small Change. I’m surprised Enrico is letting him compete.”

  “I gave anyone who wanted to participate the day off with pay,” Theo interjected. He sat on the other side of Spence and had obviously overheard Ronnie and Frankie talking. “My way of supporting Bess.”

  “That was generous of you,” Frankie said.

  “I try to do my part for the community.”

  No one could ever say differently. The Small Change Ranch was currently home to the mustang sanctuary where over two hundred formerly neglected and homeless mustangs resided. The ranch had also hosted the last several adoption auctions, raising money and awareness for the plight of wild horses. During the last auction, Theo had paid for the construction of a mile-long track where three mustangs had run in a mock race, resulting in the largest fund-raiser to date.

  “How are things working out with Nate?” Frankie asked Theo while sending Ronnie a mischievous wink.

 
“He annoys the hell out of me, if you must know.” A smile pulled at his mouth and mirth shone in his eyes. “I rue the day my daughter hired him.”

  “That good?” Frankie nudged Ronnie again. “Glad to hear it.”

  “I suppose as far as nurses go he’s not the worst I’ve had.”

  Nate wasn’t a nurse, or even an accredited caregiver, as he’d made clear to Reese when she’d offered him the job. Theo had probably used the first word that came to mind.

  The PA system abruptly crackled and Bess’s voice came on, alerting everyone to the start of the event. Following that, she made a series of announcements about safety requirements, the schedule, the rules and the all-important prizes.

  “First, second and third place will do all right,” Frankie commented. “There’s a fair amount of money up for grabs.”

  Ronnie pointed to a group of competitors clustered by the fence. “Look, there’s a woman suited up to ride.”

  “Where?” Frankie gasped. “You’re right.”

  Before Ronnie could say more, a huge commotion erupted at the bucking chutes. Shouting warnings to get back, cowboys threw themselves off the chutes to the ground, only to scramble backward. A few daring souls reached their arms into the chute, mindless of the wildly thrashing bull, the same black beast who’d made such a fuss earlier.

  Suddenly, the bull humped up, his huge, muscular back appearing above the high walls.

  “My God,” someone hollered. “There’s a man trapped in there with him.”

  Ronnie leaned forward in her seat for a better view, along with the entire stand of spectators.

  “It’s Nate,” her father said, his voice filled with alarm.

  She didn’t wait to hear the rest. In a flash, she was on her feet and running down the steps. At the bottom, she turned toward the bucking chutes, silently praying that Nate wasn’t hurt. Or worse.

  * * *

  NATE FIGURED HE’D seen bulls from just about every angle possible. Flat on his back. Flying through the air. Leaning so far forward over their necks he’d nose-planted between their horns. Bent so far backward his head banged against their spring-loaded rumps. Through the rails of a fence or the slats of a pen or the opening in a trailer. Plenty of those views had been with him dusting off his jeans and watching as the bull was herded out of the arena.