Promise Me, Cowboy (Copper Mountain Rodeo)

by CJ Carmichael

  Was he looking at her?

  No, someone behind her and to her left. Just as Sage turned, the little girl called out again, “Way to go, Daddy!”

  Sage saw her this time. A cutie about five years old, decked out in a cowboy hat and a T-shirt with a red bandana tied at her throat. Sitting beside her was a tall, striking blonde woman in her late fifties, also waving proudly at Dawson. When the little girl called out a second time, jumping up from her seat, the woman said, “Yes, Daddy did good, but you have to sit down, Savannah.”

  He had a daughter. Dawson O’Dell had a daughter named Savannah. She had light brown hair and a darling smile that produced deep dimples in her plump cheeks.

  Those facts kept circling in Sage’s mind as she tried to process the reality of it.

  She sat in a daze for the rest of the tie-down competitors. Exactly how old was Savannah? Had Dawson been married and had a child as well during those months when he’d slowly won her friendship and eventually her heart? As she considered the possibilities, the steer wrestling event was announced, and she didn’t take in much of that either, though she did notice Dawson hazing for their neighbor, Jamie MacCreadie.

  Jamie was a few years younger than her, dark haired and intense. His father wasn’t too pleased about his rodeo life style, but at least he’d shown up to watch his son perform. His wife, sitting beside him, looked a little overwhelmed, but her face lit up when the announcer called out a time of three point eight seconds for her son.

  “Wow, that’s world class,” Callan said. “Good for Jamie.”

  “That boy ought to quit playing around at being a rodeo star and go home to help his father on the ranch,” was Hawksley’s verdict.

  Sage didn’t let his comment upset her. She already knew that Hawksley valued good ranch workers above rodeo performers. As long as she’d been barrel racing he’d taken some interest in her life. But once her world no longer involved horses it had ceased to be relevant to him.

  That was okay. She understood that her dad had suffered heartaches in his life that had made him the way he was. And at her age, she no longer needed her father’s approval to be happy—although she couldn’t deny, it would have been nice.

  Next up were the barrel racers and Sage moved forward in her seat, keen to assess the competitors. She’d heard about a woman from Australia—Tegan Ash—but this was her first opportunity to see her in action. Tegan started out well, she was a fearless rider. But she had a little trouble with her foot and almost knocked down the third barrel. It steadied, however, and she ended up with the second best time of the day at 15.95 seconds.

  “And that’s how they do it Down Under folks,” called out the announcer. Tegan, a standout with her blonde hair and bright pink shirt, smiled and waved at the crowd as she rode out of the ring.

  “I need a break.” Sage stood, stretching out her bum knee.

  “Grab us some popcorn?” Dani asked.

  “Sure.”

  She was on her way to the concession stand when a cowboy stepped right in front of her. Her gaze travelled up his dusty jeans, to the checked shirt and his weary smile.

  “Nice work, O’Dell,” she said acknowledging his success in the tie-down.

  “Thanks. I was happy with it.” He looked like he wanted to keep talking, but didn’t know what to say.

  The smart thing would be for her to keep moving to the concessions. But she couldn’t resist asking about the girl in the stands. “So—you have a daughter? I heard her cheering for you.”

  “Yeah. I noticed you were sitting pretty close to her. For a little thing she sure can be loud.”

  “Savannah, right?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  That was all he was going to tell her? Suddenly she was so angry she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Couldn’t pretend what had happened was water under the bridge and that the whole thing meant nothing.

  She took a step closer and pressed her fist tight to his chest. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden, O’Dell. Just tell me this. Were you not only married when we hooked up—did you also have a kid?”

  His smile vanished fast, his mouth went hard and his jaw rock firm. Before she knew it he had her fist in his hand and was holding it super tight.

  “Savannah was born after. I didn’t even know Gina was pregnant.”

  So many questions spun through her mind. Could she believe him? And why did she still care, so damn much?

  “Where’s Gina now?”

  “In Vancouver. Or maybe Whistler by now. She met a fellow in Canada and followed him over the border.”

  “She just left her daughter?”

  “She sure as hell did—three weeks ago. For the record, it isn’t the first time.”

  “And the woman sitting with Savannah?”

  “That’s my mother.” An uncomfortable look passed over his face. “She’s been helping me out with babysitting since Gina took off.”

  She stared into his face. Was this more lies? Or the truth? She didn’t trust herself to tell the difference. She tugged her hand until he finally released it. “That’s a heartbreaking story. I’m sure it’ll go over well with the ladies at the bar tonight.”

  A look akin to sadness—or maybe disappointment—washed over his face. “That’s a low blow, Sage. Right now I need to say hi to my daughter. She’s waiting for me. Can we get a drink later tonight and have a proper discussion?”

  Why did she want to say yes? She was such a fool. He seemed sincere and honest right now—but hadn’t she thought he had those same qualities five years ago? She’d been so naïve back then. It still made her heart ache when she remembered how easily she’d talked to him. She’d shared so much. Way too much.

  And now he knew, not just every curve on her body, but also so many of her private thoughts. Lucinda Williams had a song beseeching her ex-lover to please don’t tell anybody the secrets that they shared. Boy did Sage ever relate to that song.

  All around them were people, everyone moving, heading either to the washrooms or for food, or back to the stands. Sage moved in closer, to keep what she was about to say between the two of them. Now she could see the pores in his tanned skin, the light gold lines in his green eyes, the sun bleached strands in his hair.

  “I’m not meeting you for a drink, O’Dell. You are the first cowboy I ever hooked up with. And what you put me through—I was humiliated. Not to mention terrified.”

  “Aw, Sage.”

  “No. Let me finish. Can we please just give each other space and get through the weekend? I’m not proud of what happened back then. Being the other woman is definitely not my scene—and I sure don’t want my friends and family to find out about it. Is it asking too much for you to respect that?”

  His face had been getting paler with each word. Good. Hopefully the message was sinking in.

  “My goal sure isn’t to make you feel worse, Sage. I was hoping—"

  “Don’t. There is no room for hoping here.”

  She tried to walk past Dawson but he kept blocking her. Finally he put his hands on her shoulders and held her still.

  He should have looked abashed after the dressing down she’d just given him, but he didn’t. Instead he seemed—shaken.

  “I’m so sorry, Darlin’. I am. I thought I was doing the honorable thing not following after you back then. But I guess I should have tracked you down sooner. Ah—hell. There’s too much for me to explain to you standing right here. Just give me fifteen minutes. Grey’s Saloon. Later tonight, say around nine.”

  After he left, she couldn’t remember what she’d been about to do. Finally someone bumped into her. Some of the beer and popcorn he’d been carrying spilled to the ground.

  Popcorn. That was it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Here’s your popcorn.” Sage handed the two bags down to her sisters and father. Staring at the arena, she tried to focus. It didn’t work. “What’s happening?” she asked Dani.

  “They’re loading the horses into the c
hutes. The saddle bronc riding will start any minute.” Dani munched on some popcorn then gave her a studied look. “You were gone a long time.”

  “Big line,” Sage mumbled. She was thinking about the way Dawson had said “Darlin’” A lot of cowboys used the term indiscriminately. But Dawson’s version had sounded so tender and sweet.

  She couldn’t help thinking about the man she’d thought she’d known five years ago. Somehow their schedules had aligned almost perfectly that summer. Rodeo after rodeo she kept bumping into him. They were friends first. He was one of few who had recognized her fear of performing. He started showing up before her events, giving her pep talks. Telling her how good she was.

  And she had been good. Technically, very good.

  What she’d been missing was the drive to win. All she had was the drive to survive. And her horse had sensed that and it showed in her stats. “I want to quit,” she’d once admitted to Dawson. He’d said the last thing she’d expected: “Then why don’t you?”

  She surprised herself by telling him the truth—she didn’t want to disappoint her father. Hawksley had dealt with many setbacks in his life already. She knew how much he wanted this for her. At an early age she’d been singled out as having a talent for barrel racing and her father had been so damn pleased. The only time she remembered him paying her any attention at all, was when he was giving her advice on how to handle a horse, or tips on what to expect from her competitors.

  Sage sighed.

  Dani bumped her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  There was no way Sage could tell her. And she didn’t know why. Dani loved her. She would never judge her harshly—and it would be good to know what a logical, objective person thought about the situation.

  But—the words were locked in her heart. And she couldn’t even blame Dawson and the horrible history between them. No, this problem went back further, to a door that was closed, that she wasn’t supposed to open.

  You used to be such a chatterbox.

  Sage didn’t have much heart for the rodeo anymore. But her sisters would be disappointed if she took off now. And they’d be full of questions, too. So she decided to sit it out. There were only two events left now, anyway. Saddle bronc and bull riding.

  Both Jamie MacCreadie and Dawson were in the lineup for the bronc riding event. But each cowboy’s performance was less than stellar. Jamie ended up with a lackluster horse and the opportunity for a re-ride. On the other hand, Dawson’s mount was a hell-raiser, but he barely managed to keep his seat.

  “What’s wrong with that cowboy?” Hawksley sounded disgusted. “He was great at the tie-down. But that horse was in charge from the second they opened the chute.”

  No one disputed their father’s verdict. And Sage wasn’t surprised when Dawson earned a score in the mid-seventies. No cowboy would be happy with that, especially not one of Dawson’s caliber.

  His little girl didn’t seem to care. She cheered anyway, and Dawson saluted her with his hat again, though this time he didn’t quite manage a smile.

  Sage stayed to watch Jamie’s re-ride which he totally rocked with a score of 89. She noticed the barrel racer in pink, Tegan Ash from Australia, cheering madly on the sidelines. She could remember the days when she’d cheered just as enthusiastically for Dawson.

  The crowds cheered loudest of all for the bull-riding event—and in particular for legend Colton Thorpe who was the rodeo guest chair this year. Sage was on the edge of her seat for his entire eight-second ride and when it was done, Callan whistled and stomped her feet.

  “There is a man who keeps improving with age,” Dani said.

  “What? You weren’t too busy checking his stats to notice?” Callan’s gaze fell on the empty seat between them. “Where’s Mattie?”

  “She went to buy some water, I think,” Dani said.

  Sage had been so engrossed by the bull-riding she hadn’t registered her sister’s exit, either. Now she felt badly for not realizing how difficult this event would be for her sister to watch. She leaned over to ask Dani and Callan, “Did Mattie tell you one of Wes’s buddies was killed in a bull riding event this June?”

  Callan nodded. “I read about it online. Absolutely horrible. Someone even posted a video of the accident on YouTube. I didn’t watch it, of course.”

  “Dreadful,” Dani agreed. “I hope Wes will wake up and smell the coffee now. He’s too old to be competing in rodeos. Besides, Mattie’s been holding down the fort at their ranch long enough. Now that the twins are off to college, it’s time he did his share.”

  “No kidding,” Callan agreed. “Mattie’s been a saint to put up with Wes all these years.”

  “Careful,” Sage cautioned. She could see Mattie walking toward the stands with two bottles of water in hand. “Anyway, it’s not up to us. Mattie’s crazy about Wes and she always has been.”

  “Stop your gabbing.” Their father stood up suddenly.

  Sage wondered if he’d heard what they were talking about. Or if he cared. There was no telling by the expression on her father’s face, which was as inscrutable as always.

  “I want to get to the steak dinner early, while the food is fresh,” he continued.

  They arrived at the park in front of the Courthouse at five-thirty, well before the official opening, and Callan snagged them a table in a prime position with a good view of the stage. Another band was playing this evening—traditional bluegrass—and Sage could tell the old-timers were especially pleased. They managed to catch the first steaks off the barbecue and ate in relative peace.

  But soon old friends and neighbors started showing up and her sisters dispersed in the crowd, chatting and laughing and catching up on news.

  Sage was in the line to buy more drink vouchers when old Bill Sheenan joined the queue behind her. Over the years Sage had perfected the art of avoiding the man, but tonight she felt trapped. She immediately turned her back to him and stared dead ahead. She even considered bolting.

  But her sisters wanted more wine.

  And really, all she had to do was ignore him.

  “Hear your chocolate shop’s doing well.”

  Why was he talking to her? Though he was their family’s closest neighbor, the long-standing feud between him and her father was reason enough that casual friendly conversations just didn’t happen.

  “Look Sage, I’ve always felt bad about what you saw when you were a little girl.”

  She gasped, then shook her head, signaling that she didn’t want him to say another word.

  But he persisted. “Did your mother ever explain—?”

  He didn’t get out another word. Because her father had joined the line, too. And Hawksley’s right hook caught the side of Bill’s jaw and sent him reeling.

  “Fight!” The call was out, and a crowd started to gather.

  But Bill didn’t strike back. He just stepped up to Hawksley and said something Sage was pretty sure only the three of them could hear.

  “That was a long time coming, so I won’t retaliate. At least not tonight. But one day you’re going to have to answer for what you did to Bev.”

  Then Bill turned his back and quietly took his leave.

  Sage stared at her father. “Why did you hit him?”

  Looking into her father’s bourbon-colored eyes, she could see the sort of deep rage—and hurt—that didn’t come from disputes over water rights. All these years she’d tried to protect her dad from the secret that she worried would destroy him.

  But her father knew about the affair.

  Had known all along.

  Hawksley took her by the elbow and led her away from the crowd, closer to the library.

  “What did you see, Sage? What did Bill want to talk to you about?”

  She stared mutely at him. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  “You saw them, didn’t you? Your mother and that man.”

  She had never been able to tell her father an outright lie. “Yes.”

  She didn’t add the details. She’
d been eleven, home sick from school, when her mother said she had to run into town but she’d be back in a few hours. If Sage needed anything she should ask Judy, their hired help, who was picking raspberries in the field behind the equipment shed.

  Sage had spent the first hour zonked out with fever. But then she started feeling better. And she thought about the vanity table upstairs in her mother’s room with all her fancy jewelry and makeup. There were strict rules in their house. The girls were never to enter their parents’ room without knocking and waiting for permission first.

  But Sage, bored and feeling sorry for herself, climbed the stairs and ignored that rule.

  The lock hadn’t deterred her. She had a clip in her hair and knew how to use it.

  An innocent eleven-year-old had opened that door. And what she saw on the other side had seared her soul. To see her mother in that position with her father would have been shocking enough. But with Bill Sheenan!

  “Did your mother—talk to you about it?”

  She could imagine how awkward this was for him. Her father was a practical man who only spoke about practical matters. This was so far out of his comfort zone that she wasn’t surprised he couldn’t look her in the eyes. But she could see his throat working, probably swallowing back emotions he didn’t want to deal with.

  “Not really. She told me to forget what I saw. She said I was too young to understand, and she’d explain when I was older.”

  But six months later, her mother had been killed while helping her father deliver a calf. And the day for explanations had simply never come.

  For all that her father was a gruff man, he rarely swore. He did then, however.

  He still had hold of her elbow and his grip tightened, painfully so. “Do your sisters know?”

  “I never told...” She almost said “anybody” but that wouldn’t have been true. Because back in the days when she’d thought she could trust him, she’d relayed the entire story to Dawson. “I never told them.”