Phoenix

by Linda Warren

  She’d wanted his number, and he’d given her a fake one because he knew he didn’t want to see her again. He remembered that vividly. Little things were starting to come back. Valerie was just a one-night stand. That would be sad if he was her child’s father. That wasn’t how children were supposed to be conceived. Oh, man.

  He sat up straight and gazed out at the scenery flashing by. Rural Texas in September was still dry and hot, but the greenery was beginning to fade as signs of fall were creeping in.

  “You ready to talk?” Paxton asked.

  “No.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ve already gotten messages from Quincy and Jude.”

  “They’re like two mother hens.”

  “You got caught, huh?”

  “Shut up.” They rode for a while in silence and then Phoenix asked, “Do you remember Valerie Green?”

  “No.”

  “I’m having a hard time remembering her, too, but some of it’s coming back. A buckle bunny who wanted to have fun, and now she says I’m her kid’s dad. And don’t ask me if I used protection or I’ll hit you.”

  “Why would I judge you? I could be in your boots.”

  Phoenix and Paxton had traveled the circuit for years, and they knew each other better than anyone. They liked the girls who came to the rodeos. They couldn’t deny that. The women’s attention was a turn-on. But now Phoenix was wondering why he needed all that attention.

  “I don’t feel like a father. Aren’t you supposed to feel those things?”

  Paxton laughed, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. “You’re asking me?”

  “Right. What was I thinking?” Paxton, with his charismatic charm and good looks, was the proverbial playboy. Around the rodeo circuit he was known as the “Heartthrob.” Women gravitated toward him, and he had his pick of anyone he wanted. At times that had gotten him into some jams. Last year a girl wrecked his whole rodeo season, but he’d straightened up his act, and now both of them were in the top ten cowboys in the country. They would be in Vegas for the big show come December if they didn’t screw up.

  “You know, Pax, I’m changing my ways. It’s not a good feeling for someone to come out of the blue and say I might have a son. That’s irresponsible and immature. Dad would not be happy with me. From now on I will be choosy about whom I sleep with.”

  “Yeah, right.” Paxton drove past two girls in a red Volkswagen. Once the girls saw the truck and trailer, with “Save a Horse. Ride a Cowboy.” sticker they honked their horn and waved out the window. Right there, Phoenix decided the girl thing was just too easy and he had to be more responsible. He wouldn’t give in to any more light flirtations.

  His mind kept rolling with the miles, and he seemed to have a need to look back over his life and the rodeo. It had been one endless party, and he felt the weight of that for the first time. How could he have created a life and not know anything about it? That was unacceptable.

  “Why do you think we need the excitement and attention of the rodeo?”

  “Go back to sleep, Phoenix. You’re giving me a headache.”

  “I’m serious. I think we crave the attention we got from our dad, and we get that from the rodeo and the girls.”

  “Don’t bring Dad into this. You’re agonizing over this kid and he might not even be yours. Just go to sleep and don’t think about it until you get the call.”

  That was easy for Pax to say. He hadn’t seen the face of the little boy or heard how he was crying for his great-grandma. For his own sanity, Phoenix leaned back and tried to sleep. It didn’t work. In his defense, he worked as hard as he played. It took a lot of training and skill to stay on an ornery bull for eight seconds. This past year they had put in a lot of effort to accomplish their goals, including the ultimate prize—competing, and winning, at the National Finals Rodeo. Phoenix had won the gold buckle in bull riding last year, and he was hoping to repeat. Paxton was close on his heels. If he had to lose, he’d want to lose to his brother.

  In Wichita Falls, they switched drivers, and Phoenix drove all the way to Oklahoma. They arrived at the rodeo grounds in the late afternoon. The rodeo was tonight, and trucks and trailers were parked everywhere. The travel trailer was much better than sleeping in the truck, which they’d done for a lot of years before they’d started to make money.

  Phoenix pulled up behind a truck and trailer with stripes down the side.

  “Would you look at that?”

  Paxton sat up and straightened his hat. “That’s a fancy outfit.”

  “I’m not talking about that. It’s parked in two spots. That’s not the cowboy way. We respect each other, and that person just hogged a parking spot.”

  “Park somewhere else. We have to check in.”

  Maybe it was his bad mood, but Phoenix decided he wasn’t parking somewhere else. He was going to teach this person a lesson in manners. He pulled in as close as he could to the other rig.

  “What are you doing? We’re too close.”

  “My thought exactly. Maybe he can crawl out the window, because he’s not opening the driver’s side door.”

  It didn’t take them long to find out the driver was not a he but a she. She climbed out the passenger door and stormed over to them. Phoenix got out and met her and was completely taken aback by the beauty of a woman he’d seen many times, but never this close up.

  She was slim, in tight-fitting denim, boots and a white tank top tucked into her jeans…basically the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. A leather belt with a gold belt buckle she had won barrel racing circled her tiny waist. A Stetson crowned her head, and long, coppery hair hung down her back. Her eyes were the coldest blue he’d ever seen, similar to the sky when the ground was frozen on a winter’s day. A chill slid up his spine.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Move your truck. It’s too close to mine.”

  “You’re taking up two spaces. That’s not the cowboy way.”

  She placed her hands on her waist, stretching the tank top across full breasts. Any other time Phoenix would have enjoyed the view, but he was still in anger mode. “Excuse me?”

  “We look out for each other, and taking up more space than you need is not good or respectful.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I’m not. If you want to get into your truck, you’ll have to move it over.”

  “You…you…you despicable, conniving, egotistical…”

  A smile touched his face for the first time today. This was so out of character for him. He was usually easygoing and fun to be around. He held up a hand. “I get the picture. You still have to move your truck and horse trailer. It promotes good relationships within the cowboy community.”

  “You may have won this round, Mr….”

  He held out his hand. “Phoenix Rebel.”

  She glanced at his hand and then at his face, her blue eyes now so cold he was tempted to take a step backward. “I know who you are, and I would never touch you. You Rebels are all alike, greedy, selfish and without respect for others.” After saying that, she stormed back to her truck and climbed through the passenger door. In seconds she had it backed up and reparked.

  Phoenix crawled back into his truck, and Paxton stared at him with a lifted eyebrow.

  “Have you lost your mind? Everybody parks wherever they want. All of a sudden we have rules? No one told me.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You do know who she is?”

  Phoenix rubbed his hand across the steering wheel. “Yes. Rosemary McCray.”

  “Rosemary McCray Wilcott,” Paxton corrected him. “She’s divorced, I heard.”

  “What else do you know about her?”

  Paxton turned to face him. “Let me refresh your memory. Ezra McCray tried to kill you and Jude for jumping his fences. Jude has a bullet scar on his forehead to prove it. Our father, John Rebel, shot and killed Ezra, which escalated the Rebel/McCray feud to high alert. Rosemary is a McCray, and the off-limits sign is flashing right ab
ove her head. Don’t you see it?”

  “What else?” Phoenix asked again, as if Pax hadn’t spoken.

  Paxton sighed. “Phoenix.”

  “What else?”

  “Her horse’s name is Golden Lady, and the cowboys call Ms. Wilcott Frosty Lady because she’s shot down everyone who’s tried to date her.”

  “I know that. What else?”

  “Not much. Her friends call her Rosie, but she isn’t very friendly and she stays to herself, which you should do, too. Do you hear me?”

  Phoenix couldn’t get that look in her eyes out of his mind. “She must be younger than me, because I don’t remember her in school.”

  “Yeah. About four years, I think.” Paxton nailed him with a dark stare. “Why are you curious?”

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about her. She seems so sad.”

  “Is that why you laid into her like a crazy fool?”

  “I didn’t know it was her. I thought it was a guy.”

  “Oh, that makes sense. Someone who could punch your lights out. Right before a rodeo, I might add.”

  Phoenix tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What else do you know about her?”

  Paxton groaned. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “I’m curious. That’s all.”

  “I heard down at Rowdy’s beer joint that Ira McCray married her off to a man twice her age. The man was supposed to pour money into the McCray ranch to get it back on its feet. Rosemary filed for divorce a year later and Ira disowned her. I’d say not being able to see your family is a lot to be sad about.”

  “Yeah.” Phoenix felt a stab of guilt for being so rude to her. It was just a reflex reaction to everything that was going on in his life. He didn’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

  Paxton opened his door. “Do you want to set up the trailer or check us in?”

  Phoenix got out of the truck. “I’ll check us in.” As he passed Rosemary’s vehicle, he thought of going over and apologizing to her. But he knew the last thing she wanted from him was an apology. She wanted revenge, and in the days that followed she would probably find a way to get back at him.

  Chapter Two

  Rosie sat on the small sofa in her live-in horse trailer, willing the anger to subside. The trucks and trailers were parked in a field close to the rodeo arena. There were no marked spots. How dare he chastise her for taking up space? How dare he!

  In a hurry because Dixie, her precious Jack Russell–mixed terrier, had to pee, she’d pulled in quickly, not noticing she was far away from the other vehicle. She’d opened the door and Dixie had hopped out to do her business. Then Phoenix Rebel had the nerve to pull in so close she couldn’t get out of her truck. Who did he think he was?

  She’d seen him and his brother Paxton many times at the rodeos. She ignored them and they ignored her. It worked well considering their family histories. Until today. She should have refused to move her truck, but escalating a feud that should’ve died years ago was not one of her goals. She preferred a quiet, peaceful life, but bending to his will grated on her nerves.

  The times she’d seen him around the rodeo, he was always laughing and joking with the cowboys, and some girl was always hanging off his arm. Today was a complete about-face from the guy she’d glimpsed on occasion. He’d lost his cool and she had no idea why. The parking couldn’t have been it. Was he just trying to get in a dig at her because she was a McCray? She didn’t care anymore. She was going to forget about the whole thing because she intended to ride very well at this rodeo. Her scores were good, and going to Vegas was her main goal. Her livelihood depended on how well she rode and how much money she’d make. And Phoenix Rebel was not going to break her stride.

  Dixie whined and Rosie picked her up, stroking her. Dixie and Golden Lady, her palomino horse, were her family now. And that was just too sad even to think about. Her father had said she could never come home because she had betrayed the family. But living a lonely life was better than living the life her father had planned for her. She shook the memories away, refusing to let them get her down. She had to prepare for the rodeo.

  A tap sounded at the door, and she jumped. It couldn’t be. Tentatively she got to her feet and opened the door. Haley Wilson stood there. A barrel racer, Rosie saw her at the rodeos and they’d become friendly. Rosie usually kept to herself, but Haley was outgoing and bubbly and sometimes wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Hey, I saw your trailer. You riding tonight?” With brown hair and brown eyes, Haley was a typical cowgirl with tight jeans, an equally tight shirt, boots and a Stetson. And a smile that stretched all the way to Austin.

  “Yeah. Come in.” She never asked anyone into her living quarters, but today she did for some reason. Maybe that lonely thing was getting to her.

  Haley looked around. “This is nice. Mine is much smaller, and I’m always happy to get home to my comfy bed, aren’t you?”

  Rosie couldn’t tell her this was her home and comfy bed. This was where she lived full-time because she couldn’t afford anything else. Luckily Haley kept talking, so a response wasn’t necessary.

  “When I start winning money, I’m upgrading big time.” Haley scratched Dixie’s head. “What a cutie.”

  “She’s my roommate.”

  Haley thumbed over her shoulder. “Isn’t that the Rebel boys’ trailer next to you?”

  “Yeah. You got a thing for the Rebels?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say no if they asked me out for a beer.”

  Why were women such suckers? The Rebel boys only wanted one thing. But if Haley was willing, what business was it of Rosie’s?

  Haley turned toward the door. “I gotta get my horse over to the arena. I’ll see you there. Good luck tonight.”

  “You, too.”

  Rosie slipped on a white sparkly Western shirt and tucked it into her jeans. At the arena, she would wrap Lady’s legs below the knee with white also. It was a thing with her to match, and her fans had come to expect it. She kissed Dixie goodbye and went out to the trailer to unload Lady.

  When Rosie had first seen the palomino with the white mane and tail, she’d known she had to have her. She was a beautiful horse and she had speed unlike any horse Rosie had ever owned. Stroking her gently, Rosie cooed silly words to her, making sure no one could hear, especially Phoenix Rebel.

  In minutes she had a saddle on her and was ready to ride over to the arena. With one boot in the stirrup, she noticed Phoenix coming out of his trailer.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” His voice was soft now with an underlying tone of huskiness, but it did nothing for her. She didn’t like the man.

  “I have nothing to say to you. Now or ever. But I do hope the bull you ride tonight has big horns and points them south where the sun don’t shine.” She kneed Lady and rode away, enjoying the stunned look on his face.

  *

  PHOENIX GAVE UP trying to apologize to a woman who was as stubborn as a mule. He did enjoy her sense of humor, though. She could be his kind of woman except for one thing: she was a McCray and he was a Rebel. And that other thing, too. She hated his guts.

  He didn’t know why he was thinking about her when he had enough on his plate to keep him occupied for the next few months. She ignored him for the rest of the rodeo and again when she saw him in Pasadena, Texas. The ignoring thing went on. Sometimes, just to annoy her, he would walk her way to see if she would react. She didn’t. They met up again in Tyler. The ignoring thing was set in stone.

  By then, Phoenix was focused on his phone. He checked it at least twenty-five times a day to see if Ms. Henshaw had called. He thought of calling her but decided against that. He’d just wait in la-la land until the big moment.

  In Tyler, Phoenix drew a bull called Buster, named because he busted cowboys’ scores. Paxton had ridden two rides ahead of him on Rough Stuff and had scored an eighty-six.

  The bull was in the chute, snorting and angry, but the chute held him ti
ght. It was time to ride. Phoenix adjusted the chaps that Jude had made for him and then worked on his spurs. Paxton was known for his red shirts, but Phoenix was known for his colorful plaid shirts. His protective vest was black, and he slipped his arms into the holes and got comfortable in it.

  When he heard his name, he walked to the chute, climbed up and checked his bull rope. The stench of bull and urine filled his nostrils. At this point his stomach started to churn, and it took a moment for the feeling to subside. The stands were full tonight with eager, noisy fans. The bright lights beamed onto the arena. A hush came over the crowd as he eased on to the back of the huge, muscled, angry bull, who snorted and moved restlessly. Phoenix felt the enormous power beneath him, sucked air into his lungs and adjusted the braided bull rope to get the feel that he needed. With his glove on, he worked his hand into the handle on the rope.

  Pax was on the chute to help him. “Have you got a good grip?”

  “I got it.”

  This is for you, Dad. He said that to himself before every ride.

  He raised his left arm and nodded. The gate flung open, and Buster jumped head-down into the arena, kicking out with his back legs and going into a spin. Phoenix held on, his mind whirling as he counted in his head. Eight seconds always felt like thirty. He maintained his position, even spurring the bull so he would jump higher. At the buzzer he leaped off, stumbled and rolled toward the fence. The bullfighters had Buster headed toward the open gate.

  He got to his feet, picked up his hat and waited for the score. Eighty-five. Damn. He’d expected it to be higher. That was the nature of riding.

  The rodeo came to an end on Saturday night. Paxton and Phoenix placed first and second. It had been a long season and they would finish out in October before Vegas, just to keep practicing and maintaining their skill. They’d worked a lot of years to get to this point. It could all go wrong in a second, though.

  At the arena, the cowboys were packing up, getting ready to move on to another rodeo. Eden, their brother Falcon’s daughter, had joined them. She was in college, but she barrel-raced occasionally.