by Rose Verde
“You need help?”
“Nah.”
A half-hour later, they were on their way. “What did your family think about not having dinner at home today?”
“Got an earful.” He smiled. “By the way, my sister wants me to bring you to dinner next week.”
Before he could finish his sentence, Crissy was already shaking her head.
“Don't worry. You don't have to impress anyone. My family is as down to earth as they get, if I say so myself.”
“But they remember me as the lady who beat their brother up.”
“They think it's funny. I think it is too.” His grin widened. “Imagine that I'd just had myself shaken up by some bull and had the most god awful pain this side of BlueSong, and you jumped right at me. I didn't know what hit me.”
She burst out laughing. “Very funny,” she said. When her laughter subsided, she added, “As a kid, I was always investigating sounds. Pam had a fit when I told her.”
“You ever take fighting lessons?”
“Pam's older brothers taught me. They had like eight and ten years on us—Pam's the baby who just happened along when she wasn't expected. Joey and Lucas taught us. But what happened that day with you was more of a habit. My heart was pounding in my ears while I waited for whoever it was to show up.” She started laughing again. “I was sure someone was waiting around the corner to knock my lights out. All I could think was I had to get him before he got me.”
“If I was a criminal, what would you have done?”
She shrugged. “I don't know.”
“Hmm.” He swung into the parking lot of his favorite Mexican restaurant.
“I've heard you can't get in here without reservations. And it's usually booked to the teeth.”
“I'm a cowboy, remember? We got our ways.”
“That's impressive.”
“Oh yeah?” He grinned. He held out his arm and she linked hers through it.
The moment they stepped through the door, a brunette met them. “Wyatt Danner?” There was awe in her voice.
“Yes.”
“This way.”
Wyatt unhooked their arms and placed his hand on the small of Crissy’s back, leading her to their table. He held out the chair for her and then took his. The waitress handed them menus.
“Would you like to start off with one of our appetizers?” Her question was to Wyatt.
“Ask the lady. I'll take whatever she’s having.”
He didn't miss the look of displeasure on the girl's face. Whatever. She soon went to get them their sweet tea while they perused the menu.
“What are you eating?”
She pronounced one of the foods and laughed. “They're tongue twisting and as a rule, if I can't pronounce it, I don't order it.”
“Have no fears. Anything you eat here is amazing.”
“I better leave you to choose, then.”
The waitress returned and Wyatt placed their orders of Arroz con Pollo and churros for dessert.
“You eat all this and you don't gain weight?” Crissy asked when their meal was delivered.
“It’s in the genes. High metabolism.”
“Lucky you. I have to practically starve to keep the fat off.”
“You look good.”
She searched his gaze. “Thank you.”
“So late in coming.”
She giggled.
For a woman who looked so sure of herself, it was an obvious armor. Yet, he somehow understood why she would feel so insecure.
Wanting to know more about her, Wyatt decided to play a version of a game he and his siblings played when they were younger. Setting down his fork, he looked up at her.
“Want to play a little game?”
“Like what?” She eyed him warily.
“When I was a kid and we had to go on long trips, we would play this game called ‘I remember when.’ Usually my dad would start it out and he’d direct it to my older brother, Rait. It would go something like this. ‘I remember when you were knee-high to a grasshopper.’ Then Rait would pick one of us and say some silly memories he had of us. They were usually corny things we had done that no one wanted to admit.”
“Sounds fun, How do we play it though, since we didn’t grow up together?”
“Maybe we could tell on ourselves instead of each other. You know, just to get to know each other better.”
“Okay, you start.” She giggled.
“Hmmmm...” He thought of the funniest memory he could. “I remember the first time I fell off a horse. I was six. Everyone came running over to me and I just laid there pretending like I was dead. My brother Rait was the first to make it to me and he was so concerned. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, nudging me. I didn’t answer. He jumps up and screams ‘I think he’s dead!’ The rest of my brothers come running over and I could hold it in no longer. I started laughing so hard my brother wouldn’t speak to me for days.”
Crissy burst out in giggles, making his heart warm. “I bet your brother wanted to kill you after finding out you weren’t dead.”
“No worries there. He got me back good a week later. Okay, your turn.”
Crissy seemed to search her memory for something to tell him. Her brow furrowed and he almost wished he hadn’t started the game. Maybe she didn’t have many fond memories.
But then her countenance changed. “I’ve got one.”
“Go for it.” He took an inward sigh, happy he hadn’t blown the mood.
“So it was the sixth grade and I just started middle school. We all got assigned our school lockers and as a few of us stood around admiring our status of being middle-schoolers, one of the kids, Billy, I’ll never forget him because I kind of had a crush on him." She blushed as she took a sip of her drink. “So, Billy says, ‘I bet you can’t fit inside.’ I was kind of small, but I was sure I could squeeze myself in. Still, I wasn’t so sure about being in such a closed space.”
“Don’t tell me. He locked you in there?”
“No!” She laughed. “There was an inside release on the locker and I tried it out before I squeezed inside. It was working fine. But once I got in and closed the door, the release wouldn’t work. They were all freaking out trying to get it open from the outside while I was trying from the inside. When we finally got it open, the vice principal was standing behind us! He took us all to the office where we received a stern warning about ‘locker stuffing’ as he called it, and on the first day of school, we all had to do after-school detention.”
“You must of been freaking out in there.” He chuckled. “How’d it go with Billy?”
“He ended up dating my best friend. Those are the breaks.”
“Aww, poor girl.”
“It’s okay. They didn’t last long either. We were too young for committed relationships back then.”
“Are you kidding me? My first kiss was in the sixth grade!” Wyatt picked up his fork and stabbed it into his food. “Still remember that kiss. Not nearly as good as the one I had last night though.”
“I’m sure.” Her face turned bright red.
“You don’t think so? You think Billy would have been a better kisser?”
“Maybe?” Her eyes gleamed with laughter. “But I’m glad I never found out.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup.” She nodded. “Billy was incarcerated before he was twenty.”
Wyatt reached for her hand. “I’m glad Billy was too dumb to notice what was before him. You are an extraordinary woman.”
They played the silly game a little longer as they ate, learning many things about each other. He was happy to know that along with the bad things she’d suffered, she’d seen some good times too. Family was important. Wyatt was thankful for Pam and her family stepping in and making good memories for her.
CRISSY SWIPED THE LAST of her dessert and hid a burp. “You were so not kidding.”
“Oh yeah. You want to catch some fresh air?”
“Yup.”
Several other t
rucks had filled the parking lot since they had come. People trooped in and out of the restaurant. The noisy chatter from within, the music blaring from the mounted loudspeaker, the aroma that hung in the air, all added novelty to the night.
When they got to his truck, Wyatt lifted her up and deposited her on the warm hood. He hopped up beside her.
Pushing the wipers out of the way, he rested against the windshield. She did the same. The wiper on each side meant their bodies were in close proximity. Wyatt’s body heat seeped through her shirt, turning her system into Jell-O. She'd fallen for this guy. That she knew without an iota of doubt.
Wyatt took her hand in his and linked their fingers together.
“Reminds me of one time I was going to one of the rodeos. I'd just started out then, hadn't made a lot of friends, so I didn't have any traveling buddies. I'd just finished a ride and I was running to catch the next one. My truck broke down in the middle of nowhere and I had to pass the night there. It was late and there were no vehicles around. The closest motel was an hour away, by car.”
“Were you afraid?”
His chest rumbled. “There are very few things that scare anyone who mounts the back of a bull for a living. We live for the thrill, love the risk.”
He traced the back of her hand with his thumb, each circle sending ripples of warmth all over her body, robbing her brain of the ability to think. Did he know he had this kind of effect on her?
“The year before last, I rode in over a hundred rodeos, spent days on the road from event to event. I made good money and then won the championship. I hope to be able to retire by the time I'm thirty. Don't plan on becoming a washed up bull rider.”
“Before the last injury, have you had any serious ones?”
“More than I can count. Broken ribs, fractured collar bone, broken arm, you name it.” He chuckled. “It's crazy, huh? Most times, once you can walk out of the arena on your feet, you just sucked it up and got back on. I've been knocked out a few times.”
Her heart raced. She did extreme sports, mountain climbing, bungee jumping a couple of times, kayaking like no man’s business, but... “Does your family watch your rides?”
“They used to. Mom stopped watching after one of my knockouts in the first year I started riding professionally. She begged me to stop throughout that year. I couldn't. I dreamed it, talked about it and ate it. It was all I knew. So, I promised to call her after every ride and I did. I’d grab my phone and call. Soon as she answered, I’d say “I'm okay, Mom, love you.” It was always great to hear the relief in her voice.” He fell silent.
Crissy didn't need to ask. He missed his mom and she envied the relationship they had. It was always hard to not have any of her parents come to the school shows. Pam's parents did their best. It just wasn't the same.
She rubbed her hand up and down his arms, trying to imagine the ache in a mother's heart.
“After she died and dad took it so badly, I started to listen more, be more careful—yeah, I know careful has got nothing to do with getting off a bull alive.” His voice was serious. “I didn't want to cause Dad any more pain.”
“That was why he kept you from getting on the horse to rope calves?”
“Yeah, the doctors didn't think I would walk again, but God had mercy on me. It was a very difficult time of physical therapy and all. Luke got me the bull to keep me out of the arena when I started making progress.”
“How long did it take?”
“Four months. I'd wheel myself into the barn when Luke came to visit me and would pull myself on the bull, sweating and panting in pain. He'd set the speed and... I continued that for another two months. The rest is history.”
He didn't mention anything about his girlfriend's desertion. Was that to mean he still felt something for her? Although he’d assured her he didn’t, it was hard to imagine dating someone for so long, getting engaged to them, and have them leave when he needed her most. That kind of pain just doesn’t go away easily.
Pushing the thought away, she lifted their joined hands and kissed his. He draped his arm around her and pulled her close, his woodsy scent stirring her senses.
“What's the medical help like at the events?”
“It's improving, especially with the recent deaths. It's not there yet. But, a lot depends on the honesty of the rider. Injuries like broken bones are apparent, and they heal easily, so most people just discount them and ride anyway. The silent killers are the head injuries.”
“So, the rider ultimately has to decide to sit rides out?”
“Yeah. Which I used to think was weakness, but not anymore. I've seen guys leave loved ones behind, hurting, because they knew they shouldn’t ride, but did. Anyway, if the medical team suspects concussion, they give you a test. You fail it, you sit out.”
“Looks like someone has to protect you from yourselves.”
“Yeah. I learned one thing as I began to recover, though. I'd set my heart on getting better, so I applied myself to everything my therapist said to do and more. If we're determined to do something, with God on our side, we can achieve it. I had those down moments of near depression when I wanted to give up. I feared the head injuries I'd had were impacting me. I had friends and family who wouldn't let me stay down. They prayed for me, believed in me. Through that time, one scripture kept ringing in my head like a record on replay. ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.’ I did with His help. I'm ready to return again. It’s a long way to the top 35, but we'll see.”
He slipped his arm from underneath her and slid down from the truck. Crissy raised herself up but remained seated.
Wyatt stood in front of her, his hands against her hips. He stared into her eyes for a long moment. She tucked her hair behind her ears, swallowing at the intensity of his gaze.
“I'm going riding on Friday. Will you come? I’d like to have you there, cheering me on.”
Crissy swallowed. Hard. Could she really sit there somewhere on the bleachers and watch him ride, knowing he may not be fully recovered from his injury? Then again, it sure would give her a great story. Not if he were injured, of course, but seeing the whole rodeo scene with him in it had some appeal. Wishing she’d never promised a story, she groaned inwardly. If she wanted to keep her job, she would have to come up with something.
“What do you say? Will you go?”
“Sure,’ she choked out.
If he noticed her fear, he didn't give any indication.
“Name your price. What can I do for you in return? Something that will make your day.”
She grinned. “I want to ride the Soaring Eagle at the Royal Gorge again.”
His eyes widened. “No, no, no, something else. I hate heights.”
“Yes, yes, yes! Only that will do. I support your crazy sport, you support mine.” She giggled. “Besides, you said there are only a few things that scare a bull rider.”
“Not nice.”
Wyatt tugged her closer. When their lips met, it was all she could think about.
Chapter Ten
Wyatt winked at Crissy where she sat behind his chute. She grabbed her phone and took pictures of him. Her excitement had rubbed off on him. When he'd asked her yesterday, Wyatt thought he'd glimpsed fear in her eyes. But today she talked animatedly about taking pictures before the ride and he made sure they came early to afford her the opportunity. She was supporting him by coming and he wanted to do the same—be a part of whatever she was doing.
Wyatt turned his attention to the announcer as he called the next rider. The bull Wyatt was riding tonight, Die Hard, was restless, like he couldn't wait to go. Unfortunately, Die Hard was known for spewing riders out like lukewarm tea. Anyway, Wyatt didn't get to where he'd been in his career by worrying about those things. The rider before him barely made five seconds before the bull threw him. The fact that all the four riders before him hadn’t made their eight seconds filled him with hope and trepidation in equal measure.
Minutes later, his chute was cal
led.
Wyatt Danner. You would recall that Wyatt won the previous year’s championship and was gunning for last year’s before his injuries.
Wyatt said a quick prayer, settled on the bull and tuned the rest of the announcement out. Once he signaled that he was ready, the chute gate was thrown open.
The beast charged onto the dirt floor and swung wildly one way and another, spinning like crazy, it's heavy hooves pounding the ground beneath them. Spittle flew as Die Hard grunted and jumped. Wyatt lost count of the swinging and spinning but he hung on. On and on it spun, jumping and swinging, all in a bid to unseat Wyatt. Just when he thought the animal would get the best of him, the buzzer went off. The crowd roared with excitement as Wyatt jumped clear of the bull. But as he backed away he missed his step.
Die Hard charged after him, anger in his black eyes. Wyatt jumped for the chute bar just as the bull-fighters chased the animal away. His heart pounded from the ride and his escape. He climbed down and his gaze met Crissy’s. The fear in her eyes was quickly replaced by excitement. She clapped just as the announcer called out he'd gotten 92 points.
By the time Wyatt was done greeting friends half an hour later and stepped out into the night, Crissy was standing by the truck. She ran into his arms and he twirled her around. When he set her down, he winced.
Alarm reflected in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, a little pain but nothing a couple of pills won't fix.”
She didn’t look convinced, but held her voice.
He kissed her temple and opened the truck door. “You know, I had a better ride than last week. Nerves I guess.”
“I always thought I was an adrenaline junkie but it’s nothing like you guys do. First time I had someone I l... um someone I know on the back of a bull that acts like it’s demented.”
Though he couldn’t see her face very well in the dark, he could bet his buckle she’d blushed. Had she wanted to say loved?
He didn’t press it because he wasn't sure he was ready for the word just yet, even though Crissy had crept past his defenses. “They’re trained to buck. The people who rear them trace bloodlines like they do for thoroughbreds, give them special food and care.” He chuckled. “It's actually in their best interest to buck.”
