The Bull Rider's Plan

by Jeannie Watt

“You know the way?”

  Emma let out a long sigh. “Jess. The town is small and I’m not eleven. Just stop the truck and let me out. Okay?”

  He did just that, finding a loading zone to pull into.

  “I never said you were eleven.” She gave him a sardonic look and he had the good grace to shift in his seat. “Fine.” Emma opened the door. “Sorry.”

  The apology surprised her. She accepted it with a short nod and closed the door, lifting her hand to him before turning and heading down the street to the shops.

  She worked her way through several, keeping her budget in mind, but picking up a few necessities along the way. She was looking though a display of sale shirts when she heard her name.

  No. She couldn’t have.

  “Emma!”

  She turned at the sound of the familiar voice. “Mallory!” Her bag slid up her arm as she closed the distance and gave her friend a hug. “Are you here for the rodeo?”

  Mallory shook her head as she stepped back. “Yes and no. I bought a little place fifty miles west of here, so I’m kind of in the area. Kait’s barrel racing today.”

  “I had no idea.” Mallory and her sister, Kaitlyn, had lived in Gavin before their parents moved prior to Mallory’s and Emma’s senior year.

  “Well, I kind of dropped out of sight for a while.” Mallory’s smile wavered for a split second, then came back full force. “Are you here for the rodeo?”

  “I’m traveling with Jess Hayward.”

  “Jess Hayward?” Mallory’s eyes widened. “You’re traveling with Jess Hayward?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Why not?” Mallory fanned herself. “I haven’t seen the guy in ten years and I still recall how hot he was.” She narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t get ugly did he?”

  Hardly. “I needed some space and Jess needed a driver, so I came along for this leg of the circuit.”

  Mallory frowned at her. “Selma?”

  “Got it in one.” Emma grinned. She and Mallory might have lost touch, but they’d known each other well at one time. “Will you be around for the rodeo? I’d love to catch up.”

  “As if happens, I will be, as will Kaitlyn. We can make a night of it.”

  “You have no idea how much I need a night out.”

  “Frustration?” Mallory asked with an ironic lift of her eyebrows. Emma gave her a warning look. She wasn’t about to let Mallory get started. “Kait and I were going to the Road House after the rodeo.”

  “Sounds like fun, but I’m on foot.”

  “Not a problem. Kait has her truck, and she’s nuts about it, so I promise that she’ll be a safe ride coming and going.”

  “I’d have to get back early. Day and a half drive to the next rodeo.”

  “Don’t you worry, Cinderella. We’ll have you back.” She cocked her head. “I, uh, don’t suppose that Prince Charming would like to come along?”

  “I could ask him.”

  Mallory smiled. “Why don’t you do that?”

  * * *

  EMMA DID NOT ask Jess to accompany her to the Road House with Mallory and Kait. She wanted a relaxing evening out—or maybe she wanted a wild evening out; she wasn’t yet certain—and having Jess along would not be conducive to her having a good time. Therefore, she’d left him a note on the door of the camper telling him she was going out after the rodeo and considered matters settled.

  Mallory met her near the ticket booth as planned and they bought hot dogs and beer before finding seats near the top of the stands. After the steer wrestling, Mallory pointed out Kaitlyn, who was warming up a sleek liver chestnut in preparation for her barrel run, which wouldn’t occur for almost an hour. And there, also warming up nearby, was Emma’s favorite winner/whiner, Lara Wynam. She sincerely hoped that Kait beat Lara today, although, watching Kait’s horse dance and whirl, she wondered.

  “Girl’s a bundle of nerves,” Mallory said as her sister pulled her horse to a sliding stop. “And her horse is the same. I don’t think anybody but Kait could ride that beast.”

  “Ever try?”

  Mallory slanted her a sideways look. “Kait doesn’t like to share.” She smiled. “Which works well because I want nothing to do with Mercury.”

  They continued catching up as they watched the events, Mallory explaining how she’d gotten involved with the wrong guy and had spent years dodging him until finally he disappeared. She now felt safe enough to settle so she had bought the small horse property west of Coyote Creek and Kaitlyn moved in with her to help with payments.

  Em’s story felt tame by comparison, except for the part about losing her brother. High school graduation, followed by college. She’d dropped out when Len was killed and gave up barrel racing. She and her close friend, Darion, decided to tie the knot and then she realized that she didn’t want to marry a friend.

  “No spark?” Mallory asked.

  An image of Jess flashed in her mind as she shook her head. Now, that was a spark—but the wrong kind.

  “Not enough. We had a strong base for a relationship, as long as I was happy with a long un-bumpy road.”

  “There’s a lot to be said for that.” Mallory pushed her hair back with both hands, as if brushing away unwanted thoughts. “Take it from one who’s had bumps.” She gave Em a rueful smile. “You’ve had a few, too. Just dealing with Selma qualifies. Remember when she wanted you to wear that awful taffeta skirt to prom?”

  “Oh, yeah.” It’d been her junior year and the popular dress style had been sleek mermaid. Selma had her heart set on Em wearing a taffeta skirt Selma had bought to wear to a community function. The function had been canceled and the skirt never worn. Prom was the perfect place to give it an outing. Em cringed a little at the memory. In high school things like wearing your stepmother’s castoffs mattered—as did the fact that the skirt was wildly out of fashion. Again, a huge issue at the age of sixteen.

  “I agree.” Em sat a little straighter as a tie-down roper made an amazing catch, then tripped as he got off his horse. Poor guy.

  “Is Jess coming to the Road House tonight?”

  Em met Mallory’s gaze. “No.” She’d learned long ago while dealing with Selma that a simple no, without explanation, often deflected both questions and arguments.

  Mallory frowned, but as Emma had hoped, didn’t ask if he’d been invited. He hadn’t been because Em didn’t want him there. She wasn’t ready to hang with him in that kind of setting—at least not until she got her head together. Although...perhaps she’d made a mistake. If he joined them, he’d probably be surrounded by women, like, say, Mallory, and that would be a big step toward her getting a grip.

  Huh. “I’ll text him after the rodeo. See how he feels.”

  “Excellent.”

  Although now that she’d promised, Em wasn’t certain how she felt about having her friend possibly hook up with her bull rider—even if he wasn’t really her bull rider.

  * * *

  “WHAT’S THE REAL deal with you and Emma Sullivan?”

  Jess dropped his foot from the rail he’d been using to stretch his tight hamstring before his ride and turned toward Wes Fremont with a deep frown. “What’s it to you?”

  The cowboy gave a casual shrug. “I don’t want to step on toes, but if you’re only traveling together, and not involved in a—” he made air quotes “—‘secret’ relationship, then...” The rise of his eyebrows said the rest.

  Emma was no rookie when it came to shutting down cowboys. She’d traveled the circuit for years, barrel racing on both her college team and during the summers, but Jess hated the idea of Wes hitting on her. Hated it a lot. “We’re still working that out.”

  “So nothing definite.”

  “Leave her alone.” There was steel beneath his civil tone.

 
“What I see here is a case of Emma being able to make her own decisions because you guys aren’t really involved.” Wes’s eyebrows came together in a thoughtful frown. “Although...I think that would be the case no matter what you’d worked out. Em always struck me as one who felt free to go her own way.”

  Jess considered telling Wes what would happen to him if he didn’t stay away from Emma, but the guy had just made a decent point. She was free to go her own way, and she could handle herself. This wasn’t his business.

  Much.

  She was still traveling with him. And even if he no longer saw her in little sister mode, he felt the deep need to watch out for her. She was his travel partner.

  And you’re falling for her.

  The thought slammed into him like a wayward bullet. He was falling for Emma.

  This was not part of his master plan. Jess gave himself a mental shake. No matter what, he was going to have to deal with it, and the first order of business was to make certain Wes left her alone.

  “Em’s going through a rough spot. Leave her be.”

  Wes smirked at him. “Maybe she can tell me about it.” The announcer called the first bull rider and Wes took a backward step. “Thanks for the info.”

  “Leave her be,” Jess repeated. Another smirk and Wes turned his back, heading for the other end of the alley.

  Jess reached back to fasten the chap straps behind his thighs as Scavenger was loaded, sucked in a breath, prepared to do his job. The animal’s neck was slick with sweat when Jess climbed on board several minutes later, the sharp smell stinging his nostrils as he wrapped the rope and gave it a couple of quick pounds. Scavenger was one of those bulls that loved to buck, and from what Jess had seen, he was fairly set in his patterns—or he had been set until the moment the gate opened and he charged out instead of rearing as he had done in every video clip Jess had watched. Two bounds later he reared sharply then punched the ground with his hind legs, twisting wildly in the air. And that was when Jess’s weight shifted and he found himself fighting the laws of physics, trying to stay on board the now-spinning animal while gravity tugged at him.

  He hit the ground face-first, a classic dirt sandwich, and stars flashed as he scrambled back to his feet. But unlike Squirrely, Scavenger had no interest in trying to take him out. The bull’s job was done and he headed for the gate. Jess’s rope fell off just as the animal exited and one of the gate men picked it up, handing it to him as he went by.

  He became aware of the crowd, which was paying him off with applause, offering him condolences. He waved then ducked through the gate, a disquieting feeling building inside. For the first time ever, he’d felt something other than stone-cold determination when he climbed on that bull. Had Wes managed to psych him out by talking about hitting on Em?

  He reached back to undo the straps behind his thighs and headed down the alley, his loose chaps flapping around his legs. He continued on to the truck, his chin tucked close to his chest as he fought disappointment and anger. When he got to the truck, there was a slip of paper lodged in the door. He pulled it out, unfolded it and read. Looked like he’d have the evening to himself, because Emma was heading to the Road House after the rodeo for drinks with Mallory and Kaitlyn Flynn. Fine. It would give him time to figure out what had happened with his ride.

  Or better yet—he wiped a hand across his grimy face—time to find the showers. Coyote Creek rodeo grounds doubled as a campground and had public shower facilities, so he wouldn’t have to hose down in the tiny camper shower stall. That’s what he needed. A shower. A beer. An early night...waiting for Em to come home.

  He gathered his gear and headed for the showers as the cars started pulling out of the parking lot. The point leaders had been announced, the rodeo was over for the day. The champions would be named tomorrow, but his name wouldn’t be mentioned.

  Next rodeo.

  He undressed slowly, peeled off the tape on his wrist, then found a stall, cranked on the water and put his filthy face directly into the spray. When he finally lowered his chin and opened his eyes, the last of the arena dirt was swirling around his feet and disappearing down the drain. He sincerely hoped his recent losing streak was also heading down the drain. Not since his junior days had he had such a run of bad luck.

  He turned and stood under the pounding water, letting it soothe his tight muscles, drum the thoughts out of his brain. Eventually he reached for the soap, lathered up, rinsed off. When he opened the curtain a few minutes later, the place was empty. Apparently he was the only camper who’d taken a dirt bath that night.

  As he left the cinder-block building, towel slung around his neck, a big red chromed-out Chevy with a six-inch lift drove by on its way out of the parking lot. The same truck that had cut in front of him on the highway. Jess gave his head a shake. Wes drove a truck that a twelve-year-old would kill for.

  Some guys grew up. Some didn’t.

  The truck rolled to a stop at the end of the parking lot, then pulled out, heading east. Two blocks later it turned onto the street leading to the Road House and disappeared around a corner.

  Coincidence that Wes was heading where Emma was?

  It didn’t matter. Coincidence or not, both he and Em would be there, and he was not going to sit in his bunk, drinking beer while Wes chased after his travel partner.

  Chapter Nine

  The last time Emma had been in the Road House was shortly after she’d reached legal drinking age and she’d gone out with rodeo buddies to celebrate her best barrel time ever. They’d ended up shutting the place down and the end of the evening was nothing more than a fuzzy memory. As she and Mallory and Kait walked into the crowded bar, she didn’t know if she still had the stamina to shut a place down, but she was going to give it a shot.

  The Road House was on the peripheries of the small town, more run-down than the other three drinking establishments in Coyote Creek. A favorite of the rodeo crowd, but not so popular with the fans who came into the town for the big event. The other bars were calculatedly quaint and charming and worked to stay that way. The Road House was the same as it’d been for the past three decades. No rugged logs or timbers or leather sofas or animal heads on the wall. “Look! A table,” Kait said, pointing across the room.

  “Quick—before those guys get it.” Mallory slipped past the crowd standing near the door with Emma close behind her. They laughed as they fell into the sturdy wooden barrel chairs, claiming their prize just before the three cowboys who’d also been heading for the table.

  “Well played, ladies.” One of the guys smiled and winked at Kait. “We might be back,” he said before turning to follow his buddies toward the bar.

  “I’ll get the drinks,” Kait said, “if you save my seat, as in, keep an eye on it.” She leveled a hard look at her sister, who gave a dismissive wave.

  “There are two chairs, if you didn’t notice. The chances of someone stealing both are—”

  “Excellent, judging from past experience,” Kait snapped. She turned to Em. “Watch my chair.”

  “Will do.”

  The Road House was full, but it wasn’t yet bursting at the seams as it had been the last time Em closed the place down. Tonight she could actually see across the room. She leaned back in her chair and scanned the crowd. She spotted Chase at the bar, standing a few feet away from Kait, who was waiting her turn to order drinks, but she didn’t see his travel buddy, Dermott.

  Lara was there with a group of barrel racers, sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room. The cowboys who had raced for the table at which they now sat drifted that way and one of the women waved them over. The barrel racers made room and soon everyone was seated at the small table. The guy who had winked at Kait earlier met Em’s gaze across the room and lifted his glass. She wasn’t certain what his message was, but she returned the salute. He was cute and she was feeling like she
wanted to cut loose a little.

  It was good to be out. Good not to be mulling over the situation with Selma. Or Darion. Or Jess.

  If beer and cute cowboys couldn’t cure her of worrying, then she was in more trouble than she knew.

  “Earth to Em...”

  She jerked her attention to Mallory. “Sorry. Where were we?”

  “Apparently we were studying the cowboys across the room.”

  Em gave her friend a you-caught-me smile as she realized that she’d stared at the guy for just a little too long.

  Mallory rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

  “How so?”

  “Traveling with a Hayward, yet ogling some guy across the room.”

  Emma gave a casual shrug. “The guy across the room never tried to kill my fun.”

  “What do you mean?” Mallory frowned as she spoke, so Em leaned her forearms on the table and prepared to fill in the blanks.

  “Jess was like a second brother. I couldn’t get away with anything when he was around.”

  “Is he still killing your fun?”

  “Believe it or not, he still treats me like he did when I was in high school.” Or he had when they’d first started driving. Now...not so much. Which was another reason to be ogling the guy across the room.

  “Convince him you’re not in high school.”

  “I think we’ll continue as we are.”

  Mallory gave Em a sad shake of her head. “Hopeless.”

  “What can I say? Some things are just not meant to be.” Before she finished speaking, someone put a hand on Kait’s chair, pulling it out. Em turned, ready to defend the chair, and found herself staring into Wes Fremont’s warm brown eyes. He smiled that cocky smile of his, making his cheeks crease. “Emma Sullivan. It’s been a while.”

  She gave a small laugh, more at Mallory’s comical expression, which clearly said, “How are you attracting all these hot guys?” than at Wes.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “It has.”

  “I’m thinking...two years?”

  “Almost.” She and Wes had traveled the college circuit together before she quit. They’d never talked a lot, but she’d noticed him. It was hard not to, since he’d been one of the best-looking guys in college rodeo. Time had been kind to him—if anything, he looked even better.