“I’ve been right here all week,” she said.
“Yes, and that was even harder than you being a hundred miles away.”
“What are we going to do about us?” She looked up into his eyes.
“I guess that’s what we need to talk about after the ride tomorrow night.”
***
Everything was a flurry on Saturday morning. Last-minute checks to make sure everyone had all their things in the right suitcases. One more look under the bunk beds and in the bathroom for anything that might have been left behind. Breakfast was finished. Good-byes and hugs to Hill, Harper, Lester, and Trace.
The bus rumbled up to the front of the cabin and Gemma panicked. She couldn’t let them go back to the big city life. What if they got tangled up in gangs or started doing drugs? Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it when Carly wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her one more time.
She wanted to gather all ten of them up like a mother hen with her peeps and carry them to Ringgold where they’d have a makeover every weekend and a dance at least once a month. They should live in a town so small that if they did anything that they shouldn’t, she’d know about it before they even got home from school.
Carly’s lip quivered when she handed Gemma a folded piece of paper. “We wrote a letter to our partners last night, but then we decided to write something to you. It’s all right here in the envelope.”
Gemma swallowed a baseball-sized lump and hugged the child one more time. “I’ll read them all later. I’ve got your addresses and you have mine. Write me and tell me what’s going on in your life.”
“Can we take our boxes home with us now?” Deanna asked.
“No, you can’t take your box, but each one of you can give your box to your partner. No peeking inside until you are on the airplane going home. There’s a little surprise for you and the note that your partner wrote to you inside the box. It will give you something to read on the ride,” Gemma said.
Carly handed Deanna her bright-colored box. “You made a pretty good partner. If you are ever in Dallas, come and stay with me.”
“If you’ll quit snoring I might do that. And if you ever get to Chicago, you come see me,” Deanna said with tears rolling down her cheeks as she gave her pretty trinket box to Carly.
Lester poked his head in the door. “Time to go, ladies. Boys are on the bus and you’ve got to be at the airport in just a little while.”
Gemma followed them out, helped get them settled, and waved from the porch until the bus was out of sight.
Trace stepped up behind her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Can you imagine watching your own kids leave for camp or even their first day of school?”
She buried her head in his shoulder. “I’m never having children. I couldn’t stand the pain of kindergarten.”
***
The doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat and looked at the lady’s chart. “Why are you having this child if you don’t want it?”
“That is personal, and I really don’t even want to talk about it. I’m treating this like a disease that I will be cured of when it is removed from my body.”
“Adoption? I’ve got several people on a list who would love to give the baby a good home,” Dr. Joyce said.
“That could be a possibility. I’ll get in touch with you if it becomes necessary. Not long until the C-section, right?”
“That’s right, but there is no reason why you couldn’t have this child naturally. You might even change your mind about motherhood if you went through childbirth.”
The lady smiled. “It’s a tumor that will be removed surgically, and I have no interest in motherhood. Not now or ever. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Chapter 12
The white lines in the middle of the highway whipped past at seventy five miles per hour and Gemma’s thought pattern spun around in her head at the same speed. She had to remember to touch her lucky horseshoe. She had to eat a hamburger from the rodeo grounds even if they didn’t get there until time to ride. Tomorrow morning she was flying home. She’d be there in time for Sunday dinner, and they were having music out on the lawn afterwards.
She and Trace still needed to talk, but that might have to wait until they got to the Dodge City rodeo at the end of the month. By then she’d have things sorted out and finalized. And once Gemma reached that point, not even wild horses could make her change her mind.
Josh Turner’s “Your Man,” the ringtone she’d set up for Trace’s calls, started playing on her cell phone. She reached over to the console and touched the speakerphone button.
“Ready to pull off for lunch?” she asked.
“Only if you are. We’re only about an hour from the rodeo grounds. I can wait for a rodeo hot dog or maybe they’ll have gyros,” Trace said.
“I was looking forward to a rodeo hamburger.”
“Does that bring you good luck?”
She hesitated.
“It does, doesn’t it? You have to eat a burger from the rodeo grounds before the ride to get your mojo,” he teased.
“And yours is a hot dog, right? Would that be with or without a beer?” she shot right back at him.
“No beer, darlin’. Can’t drink a drop before a ride,” he admitted.
“And that’s part of your mojo too, isn’t it?”
“I’m a better poker player than that. I’m not giving up my tell, darlin’. Speakin’ of poker, how about a game after the rodeo? In my trailer?”
“What’s the stakes?” she asked.
“I was thinkin’ one item of clothing at a time,” he said in a husky voice.
Gemma’s overactive imagination gave her a flash of Trace losing his last sock when she laid out a full house. “I’m a damn good poker player. You sure you want to go there?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah, I’m real sure. And every time I win a piece of your getup, I get to take it off however I want. You have to lie still and let me take my time,” he teased.
“Lie?” she asked.
“Sure. We’ll play right in the middle of my bed.”
She lowered her voice. “And when you lose an item of clothing do I get the same privilege?”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, and I’ll look forward to it. But there is no way you will beat me.”
“I’ll bring a brand-new deck of cards. That way we’ll both know they haven’t been marked. Right after the rodeo dance is over, we’ll meet at your trailer, and honey, you ain’t played with a pro until you play with me,” Gemma said.
“Why wait until after the rodeo dance?”
“Because I’m going to celebrate my win and you are going to dance with me. Besides, the Cheyenne rodeo is my favorite of all of them. I would have liked to have been here the whole week.”
“You are on, darlin’. Now tell me, are you dead serious about going home tomorrow morning?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. I can’t wait to get there. I didn’t realize how homesick I’d be after only a month. Are you going back to help on the dude ranch?”
“No, I’m flying home too. Thought I’d drive my trailer down to Dodge City and park it and fly in and out of there. That what you got in mind?” he asked.
She nodded and then realized he wasn’t sitting right beside her.
“Yes, it is,” she answered. “Two days to Dodge City, park, and be home before nightfall. On Sunday my family is all gathering and we’re having music under the shade trees. Colleen and Blaze will even be there for the afternoon. The carnival is traveling from one place to another and they said they’d make a forty-mile detour and spend the afternoon with us.”
“You sound homesick.” He laughed.
“I am, and I’m glad we’ve got some time between Cheyenne and Dodge City. Where’s Sugar? I don’t hear her.”
“Sleeping like a baby on her pillow over in the passenger’s seat. Those boys about wore her out. Looks like I’ve got a call from my father. Talk to you later,” Trace said.
***
Trace had a short conversation with his father and then turned on the radio and kept time with his thumbs on the steering wheel as Josh Turner sang “Would You Go with Me” on the station out of Cheyenne. The lyrics asked if she’d go with him if they rolled down streets of fire, and if he gave her his hand would she take it and make him the happiest man in the world.
“What do you think, Sugar—would Gemma take my hand or would she bite it?” Trace asked.
Sugar looked up and yipped.
“Yep, that’s what I figured. She’d bite it for sure.”
Ava had said that he looked like Josh Turner. She said that’s why she picked him out of a sea of cowboys that night. He remembered playing Josh’s new CD over and over that weekend and Ava telling him that his voice was almost that deep but not quite.
“Lord, what was I thinkin’?” he said aloud.
The DJ was talking again, saying, “And we’ve got another request for a Josh Turner. Amber from Denver wants to hear ‘No Rush.’ So here it is, folks. I wonder if Amber is making a statement to someone in Denver.”
The piano music started off slow and then the violins joined in as Josh talked through the first few lines. He said they had something special and were right on the edge of falling in love. He talked about walkin’, talkin’, and dreamin’ with her. Then he said that he’d been wonderin’ if she’d been feelin’ it too, but there was no rush.
He kept a steady beat on the steering wheel, but the words spoke right to his own heart as Josh sang them. Gemma was the kind of woman he could walk, talk, and dream with through the whole journey of life, not just a hot, wicked weekend. But he didn’t have a damn thing to offer her unless he walked away the winner in Vegas. She deserved better than a ranch foreman and he might not even be that if his Uncle Teamer sold the ranch to someone else and the new owner brought in his own crew.
“Shit!” He slapped the steering wheel so hard that Sugar jerked awake with a yip.
She looked at him with a question in her big eyes.
“Okay, I know you like her and you hated Ava, but dammit! Why am I even comparing the two of them? I don’t compare her to the woman I bought you for, so why do I group her and Ava together?”
Because it’s been a year since I had a woman in my bed and Ava was the last one. And because Gemma makes me crazy.
“And I don’t even know where I stand with her,” Trace told Sugar.
***
Gemma felt the energy of the rodeo before she even opened the door. The entire town of Cheyenne was geared up for a whole week, culminating with the big rodeo that night. They had a cattle roundup and brought them into town, carnivals, and all kinds of excitement before the rodeo.
But tonight belonged to her, and she’d glue the shamrock to the horseshoe and then go home for a week. She was humming when she stepped out into the bright sunlight.
She rounded the end of her truck at the same time Trace opened his door and stepped out. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled the driving kinks from his neck. Then he opened his arms and she walked into them.
He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. The remnants of coconut shampoo blended with the exotic perfume that she wore and stirred his pulse into a racing mode.
“Want to play a little poker right now?” he whispered huskily.
She giggled. “No, I do not.”
He leaned back and looked into her dark green dreamy eyes. “Afraid it might mess with your mojo?”
“Hell, yeah! I don’t meddle with the mojo, cowboy. After I win tonight then there’ll be time for poker and you can get ready to lose everything you are wearing. I’ve got a hankering for that shirt you will be wearing after the rides. It will be your lucky one, right?”
“I don’t think so, darlin’. I’ll change before we start because you sure ain’t winnin’ that shirt. But if we aren’t going to play then let’s go find some food. I’m starving,” he said.
“Look.” Gemma pointed to the passenger window where Sugar was staring at them. Her little pink tongue lolled out and the look on her face said she needed a place to squat.
Trace opened the door, picked her up, and quickly fastened the leash to her collar. When he set her down she made a beeline for a spot under the trailer and didn’t even bother to sniff out the best place. When she finished she came back and barked at Trace who handed her off to Gemma.
“Hold her please while I get hooked up to electricity and get the cooler going. She’ll suffocate if the air isn’t going,” he said.
Sugar wiggled in Gemma’s arms and licked at her face.
“Hey, did you miss me? I bet those old boys in that cabin weren’t nearly as nice to you as my girls would have been. And your mean old master was mad at me so he didn’t even bring you to visit. I missed you too, pretty girl, and if he does that again, we’ll both bite him, won’t we?” Gemma talked baby talk as she scratched Sugar’s ears.
“Do I get to pick the spot?” Trace yelled from the doorway.
“Hey, hey, so you made it. I didn’t know you had a dog,” a voice said right behind Gemma.
She turned so quickly that she almost dropped Sugar. Landry Winter’s nose wasn’t a foot from hers and he was smiling like he’d just won the bull riding event of the year.
“I thought maybe you’d given up and gone home. Some of us been parked here all week,” he said.
“Not until I win in Vegas. I’m in it for the long haul,” she told him.
“You going to be at the dance tonight?” he asked.
“Of course. I’ll be celebrating.”
“Save me a dance and I’ll buy you a beer and maybe afterwards we’ll have our own party,” he whispered.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve already got plans.”
“So it’s true that you and Trace Coleman hooked up for the circuit? Well, honey, you just remember that you can change horses in the middle of the stream and this old bull rider will be ready any time you are.” He kissed his fingertips and touched her forehead before he turned and swaggered away.
Landry had a rugged, chiseled look about him and mischief danced in his eyes, but his touch on her forehead did nothing. Trace could create more heat in her body with a glance across the arena than Landry did with his come-on line and fingertip kiss.
The air conditioner in the trailer started to hum and Trace yelled out the door, “Bring her on inside. It won’t take long to cool down now.”
Gemma stepped inside and the ceiling vents were already spewing cold air. She set Sugar down on the floor, and the little dog hurried over to her food and water dishes.
“She’s happy. You ready to go get that hamburger now?” Trace asked.
Gemma rolled up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips. Yep, the fire was still there and her body tingled in anticipation of the party after the rodeo dance. She might even let him win the poker game. It would be a consolation prize after she won the bronc busting contest that evening.
Chapter 13
Gemma settled into the saddle, touched her lucky horseshoe hat pin, and measured the reins. She wiggled in the saddle to make sure it was exactly right, shoved her boot heels down into the stirrups, got her legs in the right position for the mark out, and cleared her mind of everything.
Eight seconds after she motioned for the gates to open the ride was over. Thirty seconds afterwards she was already on the ground waiting for the announcer to give the score and holding her breath. Trace had drawn a meaner-than-hell bronc that had a buck like she’d never seen before. The damned horse’s hooves barely hit the ground in the whole eight seconds and Trace had come away with a seventy-nine, tying it up with Coby Taylor who also had a seventy-nine.
“And here they are, cowboys and cowgirls. Scores for the last ride of the evening, and Miz Gemma O’Donnell beats the guys by one point with an eighty. So put your hands together and let’s hear it for the lady rider tonight from Ringgold, Texas, who is headed for the playoffs if she keep
s riding like she just did.”
Gemma took a bow and headed back behind the chutes to collect her saddle. She’d done it! By golly, she’d won and she could take that news home to Ringgold. She was now the top money winner in the bronc busting competition. Eight seconds could change it in Dodge City at the end of July, but right that minute she was on top of the pile.
“Good ride,” Coby said from the shadows.
“Thanks,” Gemma said.
He stepped out and grabbed her arm, spun her around, and landed a hard kiss right on her lips. She was so stunned that she couldn’t move for a few seconds, and when she could regain her senses she pushed him hard and took a step back.
“You sorry sumbitch; what did you do that for?” she asked.
“You didn’t mind when Trace Coleman did it. You fussed at him, but I hear you two have hooked up quite a bit,” Coby said.
“That still didn’t give you the right and it’s none of your business.” She wiped her mouth. Her lips felt like they’d been raped, not loved.
“Aww, come on, Gemma, don’t wipe it away. You deserved that kiss. You beat out me and Trace to get it,” Coby said.
“I don’t like your way of thinking. Do you kiss Trace when he wins?”
Coby’s laugh was brittle. “You’re playing in a field where you don’t belong. Get ready for some backlash, woman.”
“Don’t call me woman!” She gave Coby her meanest go-to-hell look and walked away from him. In a few long, easy strides he was beside her.
“Darlin’, don’t be like that. We could be good together. I’ve had my eye on you since St. Paul and I felt the vibes when we danced together,” he said.
She stopped and jabbed a finger in his chest. “But I didn’t. I’m not interested, and don’t ever try that stunt again or you’ll be picking yourself up out of the dust.”
“And who is going to put me there? Trace Coleman?”
“I fight my own fights, Coby. Just don’t touch me again and stay away from me,” she said.
“He said you were a hellcat.” Coby laughed.
“He must know me real well.” Gemma took her saddle from a tall, middle-aged cowboy. Dust shot up around her boots with every step on the way to her trailer. She set the saddle on the steps, opened the door, and picked it back up. When it had been put away, she took her shoebox out and opened it. The Cheyenne shamrock was right on top and the glue stick at her fingertips on the counter. She covered the back of the four-leaf clover and smacked it on the horseshoe, stood back, and wiped her mouth one more time.
Just a Cowboy and His Baby (Spikes & Spurs) Page 16
