A Cowboy's Claim

by Marin Thomas

  Considering nothing but bad memories waited for Vic in Albuquerque, Tanya admired him for racing to his nephew’s aide. Her anger at him for leaving her stranded at the motel was a distant memory. Sure, it would have been nice if he’d woken her to explain why he had to leave, but in all honesty she might have done the same thing had she received such disturbing news about her family.

  Life was crazy and full of twists and turns. What would the morning after have been like between her and Vic if he hadn’t gotten that phone call? Since they’d begun traveling together, Tanya had caught Vic’s heated stare when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. The attraction was still there between them, simmering right below the surface.

  “There’s your uncle. Do you see him?” Tanya pointed to the chute across the arena.

  Alex sat up straighter. Even though he wasn’t openly affectionate toward his uncle, she noticed the boy was becoming more relaxed around Vic.

  “We’re down to our last two riders of the evening,” the announcer said. “Eighty-four is the score to beat. We’ve saved the best competitors for last, and I’m predicting one of these cowboys will go home a winner.”

  Tanya applauded and Alex did, too, only he forgot he held the box of popcorn and pieces of the snack flew into the air, landing on their laps. Tanya laughed and Alex almost smiled. By the time they brushed the popcorn from their clothing, the chute gate opened and a cowboy named Russ Terry vaulted into the arena on the back of Demon.

  The black gelding spun more than kicked, but the cowboy held on. Tanya was no expert on spurring, but she’d seen enough events to pick out which cowboys were good at it and which ones were mediocre. Russ was good—almost as good as Vic.

  The buzzer sounded and the crowd offered a standing ovation. Tanya snickered. The fans would be jumping in the stands after Vic’s ride.

  “Our final contestant this evening is Victor Vicario from Albuquerque, New Mexico. Vicario’s been riding the circuit for over a decade, so this cowboy knows his way around a bronc.” The crowd stomped their boots against the metal bleachers. “If Vicario keeps riding like he’s been doing these past few months, then you might see him in Vegas this December.”

  A shrill whistle rent the air, and Tanya snapped her head sideways. A group of buckle bunnies waved posters with Vic’s name on them. They all looked like beauty queens—gorgeous figures and pretty faces.

  Tanya felt dowdy compared to the women. Beau had said she was cute—not pretty, cute. All Vic had to do was snap his fingers and any one of the lovelies would go off with him.

  But he took you to the motel.

  The thought did little to comfort her. Although the night they’d spent together was always there between them, Vic hadn’t attempted to kiss her since he returned from Albuquerque with Alex—and he’d had numerous opportunities.

  “Vicario’s drawn Torpedo, an explosive bronc known to throw cowboys over his head when he plants his hooves in the dirt. Let’s see if Vicario can keep his seat and beat Terry’s score of eighty-eight to win first place.”

  The crowd grew quiet, their attention on the chute, where Vic straddled Torpedo. He took only a few seconds to prepare for his ride. As soon as he’d threaded the reins through his fingers, he nodded to the gate man and the chute opened. Torpedo escaped his confinement with a vicious buck and Tanya winced when she imagined the strain on Vic’s spine. Torpedo spun once, gathered his strength, then arched his back high and tight before kicking out with his hind legs. Vic continued to spur, his rhythm smooth and continuous despite the crazed beast trying to unseat him.

  Then Torpedo went in for the kill and twisted midair. Tanya held her breath when Vic’s backside lifted off the saddle at the same time his upper body pitched forward. How he managed to maintain his balance and continue to spur was pure magic. The crowd went wild when the buzzer sounded, and a surge of pride filled Tanya. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle. “Let’s find your uncle and congratulate him.”

  “There you have it! Victor Vicario has won the saddle-bronc competition with a score of ninety!” When the applause died down, the announcer said, “Stick around, folks. The barrel-racing event begins in a half hour.”

  “You were incredible,” Tanya said when she and Alex reached the cowboy ready area.

  Vic’s mouth curved a fraction. “What did you think, Alex? Was it a winning ride?”

  Alex peeked up at Vic, then nodded.

  “I better get going,” Tanya said. “I’ll meet you outside near the stock barn after my run.”

  Vic caught her arm when she stepped past him. His gaze burned into hers. “Be careful.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean good luck?”

  “That, too.”

  Tanya felt his eyes on her as she walked off, so she gave her fanny an extra little twitch. Blasted cowboy. One way or another she’d get him to kiss her again.

  * * *

  “YOU HUNGRY, BUDDY?” Vic asked Alex on the way to his truck in the parking lot. His nephew shook his head. Vic opened the door and tossed his gear bag inside, then set the truck alarm again and they returned to the arena.

  “Mind if we stop to buy a snack?” They stood in the concession line and waited their turn. Then Vic purchased a soft pretzel and two bottles of water.

  “Let’s sit closer to the action.” A lot of rodeo fans had left the arena, so he and Alex were able to find empty seats near the arena floor. He tore the pretzel in half and offered one part to Alex. He nibbled on the treat, every once in a while glancing up at Vic. The first barrel racer was announced. The cowgirl and her horse came racing out of the tunnel. Bits of dirt flew into the air as the horse’s hooves pounded the ground. When Alex strained to see over the rail in front of them, Vic set him on his lap.

  At first Alex stiffened, but after the second and third rider had competed their run around the barrels, his nephew had relaxed against Vic’s chest. No doubt the kid was tired. If Vic had to guess, almost-five-year-olds were in their pj’s by seven at night.

  The announcer broadcasted a break in the action to allow rodeo workers to rake the dirt. Vic felt Alex’s eyes on his face and wished he’d thought to sit the boy on the other side of his lap so he didn’t have to stare at the scar.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re down to our last rider of the night. Tanya McGee is from Longmont, Colorado. She and Slingshot will try to beat the winning time of 15.9 seconds.”

  Alex tore his gaze away from Vic’s face and sat forward, his attention on the alley where Tanya and Slingshot would appear. A moment later she and the horse burst past the electronic eye.

  Vic hadn’t known he’d held his breath until Slingshot made the turn around the first barrel and raced toward the second one. There was something different about the way Tanya sat in the saddle, but Vic couldn’t put his finger on it. Whatever adjustments she’d made, Slingshot appeared to handle them well. As they made the third turn, Slingshot nudged the barrel, but it remained standing and they headed for the straightaway, then disappeared down the alley.

  “Look at that, folks, Tanya McGee and Slingshot finished with 15.3 seconds and that’s good enough for first place!”

  “Tanya won, Alex! She won!” Vic clapped his hands and Alex joined in. Instead of setting Alex on the ground, Vic carried him out to the corral, where Tanya walked Slingshot. Several cowgirls stopped to congratulate her, so Vic waited his turn. When Tanya was finally alone, he moved out of the shadows but paused when a cowboy approached her. The man looked a lot younger than Vic. Whatever he said made Tanya laugh. Vic’s stomach burned with jealousy, propelling him forward.

  He set Alex on the ground next to her. Keeping one hand on his nephew’s shoulder, he offered the other to the stranger. “Victor Vicario.”

  The younger man shook his hand, his questioning gaze sliding back to Tanya.<
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  “That was a hell of a ride, Tanya,” Vic said. “You about ready to go back to the motel?”

  The younger cowboy’s face turned red. Then he tipped his hat and beat a hasty retreat.

  “I thought we were taking Alex to see Dr. Harper.”

  Damn it, he was acting like a fool. “I guess in all the excitement I forgot.”

  “Did you see how well Slingshot ran?” Tanya spoke to Alex. “He was faster than the wind.” Alex nodded. “Let me give Slingshot a rubdown before I put him in his stall for the night.”

  Tanya led the gelding into the barn while Vic and Alex waited outside by the calf corral. Until the cowboy had spoken to Tanya, Vic hadn’t wanted to admit that he was emotionally involved with Tanya. But there was no denying he wanted more from her than to just share her bed. Why Tanya? Why now when he was chasing a title? Add his protective feelings toward Alex into the mix and the two could easily derail him from his goal.

  Twenty minutes later the three of them climbed into Vic’s pickup and headed away from the fairgrounds. He drove into town and parked in front of Dr. Harper’s office. Ann, the receptionist, had left for the evening and Dr. Harper greeted them in the waiting room. “Hello, Alex,” she said. When Alex inched closer to Tanya, the doctor said, “Why don’t you both come into the room with us?”

  The four of them sat in child-size chairs around a small table. Dr. Harper pushed a basket of markers and a pad of paper toward Alex. “If you feel like drawing, go ahead,” she said, then spoke to Vic. “How is everyone sleeping at night?” Everyone meaning Alex.

  “Sleeping through the night.” He glanced at Tanya and she nodded. Vic suspected the boy’s sleep wasn’t as deep and restful as his little body needed. In the time they’d been together, Alex hadn’t cried out once in his sleep, and Vic assumed the boy had blocked out the day he’d been left alone in the apartment.

  “I put together a list of activities and suggestions to help stimulate conversation between everyone.” Dr. Harper nodded to Alex’s drawing—a swing with two stick figures. “Playmates would be beneficial.”

  Playmates might be a problem if Alex continued traveling with Vic.

  “I’ve also gathered some reading material, which will be helpful until you have the opportunity to visit another therapist.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Harper,” Tanya said.

  Alex pushed the markers away from him and stood. He looked at Vic, then at the door. He and his nephew had come a long way in reading each other’s faces. “I guess we’re ready to go.”

  Dr. Harper escorted them to the waiting room, where she handed a small fabric tote bag to Tanya. “My business card is in there. Feel free to call me if anything comes up.”

  After they left the therapist’s office and got into the pickup, Vic said, “I think I remember passing a Chinese restaurant right before the turnoff for the motel.”

  “I like Chinese food,” Tanya said.

  “What about you, Alex?” Vic glanced in the rearview mirror, then lowered his voice. “He’s asleep.”

  “Your nephew is a trouper,” Tanya whispered.

  Vic couldn’t have asked for a sweeter kid to have to take care of. “You and Slingshot looked good tonight.” He flipped on the blinker and moved into the other lane. “How’d you get him to run faster around the first barrel?”

  “Fred gets all the credit. He suggested I let Slingshot pick his own pace as he approached the barrels. And it worked.” She waved a hand in the air. “I really need a win tomorrow.”

  Vic grinned. “Are you looking forward to telling your stepfather he was wrong about Slingshot?”

  She shook her head. “I needed the win tonight for me as much as for Slingshot.”

  “I don’t follow barrel racing. Did you have a lot of success before...” He snapped his mouth closed. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about her split with Billings.

  “The car accident?” She sighed. “I was a decent barrel racer. But it wasn’t about winning. I’d won a few competitions and that was fun, but I enjoyed the challenge of trying to beat my best time when I competed. I was doing really well when I had the accident and it’s always bothered me that I couldn’t leave the sport on my terms.”

  “Why did you wait so long to return to the circuit?”

  “Rehab took over a year. Then Beau contested the divorce and—”

  “Billings is an ass.”

  Tanya chuckled. “He wanted us to reconcile, but I knew he’d cheat on me again. Besides, Mason threatened to blow a hole through him if he tried to visit me at the horse farm.”

  “Sounds like your injuries were serious if rehab took that long.”

  “There were complications with my leg healing. Then I came down with pneumonia. It was rough. Mason and my mother both freaked out a little when I told them I was going back on the circuit.”

  “Which leg is it?”

  She didn’t favor either leg when she walked or climbed into the saddle. “My right leg. Didn’t you feel the scars when...”

  Vic gripped the wheel tighter at the memory of their lovemaking. He glanced across the seat. “I didn’t notice.” That was the truth. He’d been so caught up in the moment the first time.

  “I’m not planning a second go-round in barrel racing. I just wanted a chance to retire on a good note. I didn’t want my last memory of the sport to be connected with finding Beau in bed with another woman.”

  “If Slingshot keeps running like he did tonight, you have a good chance of racking up a few more wins.”

  They arrived at the Chinese restaurant. “What would you like?”

  “Anything with chicken. And see if they have milk for Alex.”

  Vic went inside. The teenager behind the register rang up the order and told him it would be ready in five minutes. Vic doubted five minutes of breathing hot peanut oil would erase the scent of Tanya from his head. How could a woman smell so nice all the time? It didn’t matter if it was the beginning of the day when she was fresh from the shower or the end of the day after she’d competed. She always smelled good. You’ve been keeping your own company too damned long.

  While he waited for their food, Vic wondered if he could talk Tanya into sleeping in one of the double beds in his room. Saving money wasn’t the issue. He was lonely. He’d been lonely for years, and it had never bothered him until he’d met Tanya. When he wasn’t with her, the loneliness almost suffocated him.

  “Thanks.” He carried the food out to the pickup.

  “Smells good.” Tanya held the bags on her lap.

  Alex stirred in the backseat. “You hungry, buddy?” Vic backed out of the parking space. “Hope you like Chinese food.”

  Vic drove one block, then turned into the motel and parked by a side entrance. “We might as well eat in my room.”

  They piled out of the pickup, Tanya carrying the food and Vic grabbing her and Alex’s bags from the backseat. His room was on the first floor and when they stepped inside, he noticed the maid had straightened up the place.

  “Why don’t you use the bathroom first, Alex, then wash your hands?” Tanya said.

  Vic sat on the bed and checked his messages while Tanya unpacked the food on the table in the corner. When Alex came out of the bathroom, Tanya set him in the chair. “Try a bite of everything. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it.” She glanced at Vic. “Mind if I use the bathroom next?”

  “Go ahead.” Vic pulled out one of the pamphlets Dr. Harper had suggested he look over from his back pocket and started reading it. This one talked about ways to make sure Alex knew that it was okay to talk about what happened to him. Reading the suggestions was one thing, finding the right moment to broach the subject with his nephew was another.

  “I guess you like the stuff, huh?” The kid shoveled another bite of refried rice into his
mouth.

  Vic set aside the brochure and opened the carton of milk for Alex.

  Tanya joined them, sitting next to Vic. He offered her the remote. “Watch anything you want.”

  “The news is fine,” she said.

  While they ate, Vic tried to figure out how to bring up the subject of all three of them staying the night in one room.

  “Good job,” Tanya said when Alex pushed his plate away from him. “Here’s your fortune cookie.” She unwrapped the treat and handed it to Alex. “If you break it open you’ll find a tiny piece of paper inside.”

  Alex stared at the cookie, then handed it to Vic. He broke it apart and read the fortune inside. “Three is your lucky number.”

  “That’s not exciting,” Tanya said.

  Alex climbed down from the chair and crawled onto the bed next to Vic then sprawled on his stomach facing the TV.

  “I’ll read mine.” Tanya snapped open another cookie. “Seven is your lucky number.” She laughed and then tossed a cookie to Vic. “Let’s see what your lucky number is.”

  He swallowed a groan. “Your dream will come true.”

  Tanya’s eyes grew round. “I see a big buckle in your future.”

  “Or this cookie just jinxed me.”

  She glanced at the clock on the nightstand between the beds. “Time for bed. Did you want Alex to stay here with you tonight or in another room with me?”

  Vic glanced at Alex who’d already fallen asleep. “Why don’t you two just stay here?”

  Chapter Eight

  Vic lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling in the motel room as he listened to Tanya’s quiet breathing in the bed next to him. He hadn’t expected her to take him up on his offer to share the room, but she did, insisting he shouldn’t waste money. He’d neglected to mention that saving money wasn’t the issue and he had plenty of cash in the bank.

  Most of the time when the voice in his head analyzed his motives, he tuned it out. Tonight the darkness taunted him and he gave free rein to his conscience, admitting that he needed Tanya close for selfish reasons. When she was with him he didn’t feel as unsettled around Alex. Her presence calmed his nerves. When he was alone with his nephew, the knot in Vic’s stomach twisted tighter. He was never sure how to react to his nephew’s looks. And there were so many looks—sad, worried, vacant. Vic ached when he considered the uphill battle Alex faced for years to come in dealing with his grandmother’s abandonment and then being shuttled from foster home to foster home. And when he turned eighteen and graduated from high school—if he didn’t drop out before that—the state would push him onto the streets to live on his own. If Vic had a home or a stable job, he’d take Alex in, but there was no guarantee he’d win a national championship in December—shoot, he might get hurt and not even make it to Vegas. If he didn’t win a buckle this year, he’d try next year and keep trying until he was too old to straddle the back of a bronc.