by Marin Thomas
Maddie bounded down the steps and greeted him. “Hey, girl. What are you still doing here?”
Lucy stood. “I couldn’t leave until I knew you were safe.”
“False alarm tonight.”
“Do you think someone tipped them off?”
“No. Sometimes criminals get spooked and turn back.” He stopped at the bottom porch step. “It’s awfully late to be driving back to the ranch.”
Lucy had texted her mother that she’d be staying at a friend’s apartment in Yuma for the night. “I’m not going back.” She held her breath.
Tony climbed the steps. He brushed a stray blond curl behind her ear and whispered, “Good.”
Her heart skidded to a halt, and when it resumed pounding, Lucy feared the organ would burst through her rib cage. Tony held out his hand and she grasped his fingers. As soon as they entered the trailer, he pressed her against the door. His mouth was hard and eager, and she melted in his arms.
“Don’t move.” He walked down the hallway, leaving Lucy at the front door. When she heard the shower running in the bathroom, she closed her eyes and envisioned Tony’s wet, muscular body standing beneath the spray. Her fantasy ended abruptly when he appeared in the hallway—naked.
Oh, my. Her mouth watered at the sight of his dark skin and sleek muscles. Then he moved, each step bringing her fantasy closer and closer to reality. There was no guessing involved in figuring out that he wanted her. His desire taunted her—dared her to touch him. She wrapped her hand around his erection and kissed his neck. Tony swept her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, shutting the door on Maddie.
“Are you sure, Lucy?” Tony nibbled her earlobe.
Was she sure she wanted to make love to Tony when he’d already told her there was no second chance for them?
Was she sure she wanted to lie in the arms of a man who believed he’d been the cause of her brother’s death?
Was she sure she wanted to be with the man she’d fallen in love with two years ago and had never stopped loving?
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Tony tugged off Lucy’s clothes, tossing them on the floor as they both tumbled across the mattress. He groped in the nightstand drawer for a condom. “If you want to stop, say so now, Lucy.”
She gripped his biceps, her nails biting into his flesh, and hung on for a Wild West ride she was certain she’d never forget.
Chapter Twelve
Lucy woke in stages—first, noticing the firm mattress beneath her, then the absence of ocean waves from her sound machine. She opened her eyes and stared at the unfamiliar light fixture on the ceiling. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle came together. Tony’s bedroom.
She rolled her head to the side and caressed the indentation in the pillow left by his head. Cold to the touch. How long had he been gone? Raising her arms, she stretched the kinks in her muscles. Their lovemaking had been as fierce and wild as she’d remembered. Tony hadn’t left an inch of her body unclaimed and the experience reminded her why she’d lost her heart to him. Once they’d caved in to their desire for each other, they’d held nothing back, and the same had been true last night. When Tony had gazed into her eyes she’d recognized his love for her. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t said the words—their hearts and souls had beat as one for a brief time.
Gathering a fistful of bedsheet, she buried her nose in the scent of clean male. The euphoria lasted only a moment before the reality of her actions hit home.
Dear God. What have I done?
She hadn’t meant for things to go this far between them—at least not before she’d told Tony the truth about the night Michael had died.
You never intended to tell Tony anything.
Tears stung her eyes. Had her subconscious played a trick on her? Had she convinced herself that she’d eventually come clean with Tony when all along she’d known she lacked the courage?
Would the truth change his mind about leaving Stagecoach?
What if the truth makes Tony hate you?
Unable to accept the thought of him resenting her, she slipped from the bed and pulled on her tank top and panties. She opened the bedroom door, took one step then froze. Tony’s mother sat at the kitchen table reading the paper.
“’Morning, Lucy.” Maria flipped a page in the paper.
“Good morning.” Lucy dashed back into the bedroom and threw on the rest of her clothes.
“There’s fresh coffee on the counter.” Maria’s voice drifted down the hall.
“Thanks. I’ll be right there.” Lucy made Tony’s bed—not that his mother didn’t already know what had taken place in it. After freshening up in the bathroom, she entered the kitchen and helped herself to a cup of much-needed caffeine.
Maria set the paper aside. “Tony said to tell you that he took Maddie to the station with him this morning.”
How early had Maria arrived at the trailer? Lucy checked the wall clock—9:00 a.m. She never slept this late.
As if Lucy sitting at her breakfast table was an everyday occurrence, Maria continued chatting. “They detained a father with three small children overnight. While he’s being questioned, Tony figured Maddie would calm the kids.”
“I’d thought about asking Tony if there’s a chance Maddie could work for the department, but he’s transferring…” Lucy’s voice trailed off at the worried look in Maria’s eyes.
Maria tapped a fingernail against the tabletop. “I don’t know how else to say this.”
“Say what?”
“Are you crazy, young lady?”
Lucy swallowed hard. “I don’t understand,” she said, even though she knew perfectly well what Tony’s mother referred to.
“You and Tony carrying on.” Maria motioned toward the bedroom. “Your father will have Tony fired from his job with the border patrol if he finds out you two are sleeping together.”
Lucy opened her mouth to tell Maria that she wanted to be the reason Tony’s transfer didn’t go through, but she lost her courage.
“You two are playing with fire.”
When it came to her feelings for Tony, Lucy wasn’t playing, but she doubted Maria wanted to hear that.
“Lucy, your father—”
“It’s not really my father interfering with Tony’s transfer that you’re worried about, is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“You want Tony to marry a Hispanic girl.”
Maria left the table and took the dishrag from the sink to scrub at a spot on the counter. “I’m not prejudiced.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“I—” Maria tossed the rag back into the sink and faced Lucy. “I admit I’m a little old-fashioned and hoped my son would marry a Hispanic girl.” She raised her hand, stalling Lucy’s protest. “You’re a wonderful young woman, Lucy, and if my son decided you were the one, then I would accept that.”
“But…?”
“But you’re not a typical Anglo girl.”
“If you’re referring to my family’s wealth, I can’t do anything about that.”
“Not just your wealth. Your father wants the best for you, as any father would, and my Tony will never be good enough. Your father would make you both miserable. In the end, you’d be pressured to leave Tony just to keep the peace in your family and my son would be devastated.”
Lucy regretted dreaming of her and Tony living happily ever after. If being together made their families miserable, what was the point? “You’re right. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” Lucy retrieved the rest of her things from the bedroom.
Maria waited by the door, tears welling in her eyes. “Be careful at the rodeo this weekend.”
Before she broke down and cried, Lucy raced for her truck. She refused to accept that last
night with Tony had been a mistake, but after the pain she’d already caused everyone, the last thing she wanted to do was come between Tony and his mother. She loved Tony enough to respect Maria’s wishes and not become involved with him. From now on, she’d act as if last night had never happened.
* * *
“NERVOUS?”
The question jarred Lucy from her trance. “Shannon. When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here all morning.” The professional bull rider sent a glare toward the bull chutes.
Lucy tracked Shannon’s stare—several buckle bunnies had circled C. J. Rodriguez and were flirting with the cowboy. “Does he draw them everywhere he goes?”
“’Fraid so.” Shannon returned her attention to Lucy. “Where’s Tony? I thought he was helping you prepare for the rodeos.”
“He is…was…” Lucy shrugged. “He might have had to work today.” She didn’t know where Tony was because she hadn’t returned any of his phone calls since the night she’d slept with him. She’d spent Thursday and Friday pampering her sore muscles and focusing on stretching exercises as he’d instructed her to do.
“Here’s how everything’s going down,” Shannon said. “Once the other roughstock events are finished, they’ll introduce bull riding and you’ll be the first one out of the chute. The announcer’s going to mention why you’re riding today and then he’ll ask the fans to help support the Pony Express by filling out a pledge card or putting money into the cowboy boots being passed through the bleachers.”
“What boots?”
“A few of the cowboys who knew Michael wanted to help out and one of them suggested passing a boot to collect cash.”
“Wow.” Lucy’s throat tightened. “That’s really nice of the guys.”
“There’s something else you need to know.” Shannon looked worried.
“What?”
“They’re going to show Michael’s ride in Prescott on the JumboTron.”
The blood drained from Lucy’s face. Her parents had refused a copy of the videotape of her brother’s last ride from the rodeo producers.
“You don’t have to watch it, Lucy, but the cameras might zoom in on you while the clip is playing.”
Lucy noted the stares directed her way and stood a little taller. She was here for Michael and she wasn’t going to let him down. “Do you know which bull I’m riding?”
“Migraine.”
Lucy hoped the bull hadn’t earned the name because he left his riders concussed.
“Migraine’s a straight-forward bucker. He doesn’t spin much, and more important, he doesn’t charge a fallen rider.”
“How old is the bull?” Lucy asked.
“Eight. He’s at the tail end of his career. Just make sure you jump clear of him when you dismount. Migraine tends to keep bucking after he loses his rider and you don’t want to get stomped.” Shannon motioned to Lucy’s bag. “Can I see your gear?”
“Sure.” Lucy waited for Shannon’s verdict.
“Nothing but the best. Good.”
Lucy wasn’t sure if that was a criticism or a compliment.
“I’ve got to get back to the Wrangler booth. Try to relax. Everything’s going to be okay.”
As Shannon walked away, Lucy couldn’t help but think that after today, nothing would be okay.
* * *
WHERE WAS SHE?
Tony stood in the shadows of the cowboy ready area at the Ajo rodeo and he’d yet to catch a glimpse of Lucy. His gut had been tied in knots the past two days after she’d ignored his text messages and refused to return his calls. The only explanation for Lucy’s silence was that she’d regretted making love with him. Well, he felt the same way. He accepted full blame for what had transpired between them, but it was too late to turn back the clock.
All that mattered at the moment was making sure Lucy made it unscathed through her first bull ride. There was a small part of him that had hoped she’d scratch, but instinct said she wouldn’t. Once she set her mind to something, she followed through.
He admired the hell out of her gumption and would have been able to handle her decision to ride today a whole lot better if they hadn’t made love. But they’d crossed a line, and in doing so, Lucy had reestablished her claim on his heart. The only thing that mattered now was keeping her safe—for Michael and her parents’ sakes, but mostly for his.
A flash of pink caught Tony’s eye. Lucy wore a fancy shirt with white fringe across the yoke. He studied her, searching for signs of nervousness, but his mind drifted to the bedroom, and instead of smelling the earthy odors of animal, hay and cowboy sweat, the scent of honeysuckle filled his head. Today Lucy wore her long hair in a braid, but he envisioned the strands loose and flowing through his fingers.
Tony shook his head to dislodge the image of Lucy’s naked body from his mind. He’d fought his desire for her because he’d believed if he held her in his arms the experience would awaken the sleeping demons inside him. To his surprise and relief, Lucy had managed to make him feel whole and clean inside—not tainted with guilt. The heavy pressure that resided in his chest had disappeared the moment he’d pulled Lucy into his arms. It didn’t make sense—not after what he’d done to her and her family.
It would be so easy to hold Lucy close and use her as a shield between him and his conscience. He liked being able to breathe without flinching and didn’t want to return to the way things had been—living in the shadow of his guilt and trying to outrun the past. He took a fortifying breath and stepped from his hiding place.
Lucy’s eyes widened. “You came.”
“Of course I came.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did. We’re in this together.” Lucy’s smile zapped Tony in the heart. “What bull did you draw?” he asked.
“Migraine.”
“Have you had a look at him yet?”
“No.”
Ignoring the queasy feeling attacking his intestines, he grasped Lucy’s hand and tugged her after him. When they arrived at the bull pen he had to force himself to release her hand. He asked a rodeo worker to point out Migraine. The Chambray bull sported a gleaming red coat and a white splotch on his belly. “He’s on the small side.”
“Shannon said he doesn’t spin or charge.”
“Good. You should be able to handle him.” Tony knew Lucy had trained well, but it was the hundred-and-one-million things that could go wrong between one second and eight seconds that concerned him. “Don’t tie the rope around your hand too tight and don’t—”
“Tony.” Lucy squeezed his arm. “I’ll be fine.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the final event of the day—men’s bull riding!” The announcer’s voice rang over the loud speakers.
Tony and Lucy returned to the chutes and he said, “Get your gear.” While she put on the Kevlar vest and her riding glove, the rodeo helpers loaded Migraine into the chute and Tony helped fish the bull rope beneath him.
“Folks, today we’ve got a special event here at the arena. Many of you may remember a young bull rider by the name of Michael Durango who was making a run at an NFR title the year he passed away. Before I say more, turn your eyes to the JumboTron.”
“I should have warned you,” Lucy whispered.
The ringing in Tony’s ears blocked out Lucy’s voice. Gaze glued to the giant video screen, he couldn’t look away from the footage of Michael’s ride.
His friend’s image—larger than life—filled the hushed arena. Michael settled onto the back of Chicken on a Chain then fussed with the bull rope. He appeared as real as ever and it took more courage than Tony imagined to watch the video. Then Michael raised his head and stared straight at Tony and grinned. An excruciating pain—sharper than the agony he’d experienced the night Lucy had phoned with n
ews of Michael’s death—ripped through Tony’s body, leaving him winded.
He felt the warm glide of Lucy’s fingers across his hand and automatically squeezed hard. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen as the gate opened and Chicken on a Chain made Michael work for his eight seconds of glory.
Tony was in awe of how Michael had managed to keep his balance and survive a series of vicious bucks. In that moment, he acknowledged that his friend’s success hadn’t just been the result of hard work—the cowboy had been blessed with God-given talent. No matter how often Tony had practiced, he would never have achieved the same level of accomplishment. The NFR had been Michael’s destiny and he’d been robbed of it.
Tony’s heart pounded as he lived and breathed each second of Michael’s ride. When the buzzer sounded, the arena in Prescott went wild. Michael’s dismount was nothing less than spectacular as he launched himself through the air. He hit the ground but rolled to his feet in an instant, then looked over his shoulder and found Chicken on a Chain staring him down. Instead of running for the rails as if his Wranglers were on fire, he stood defiantly and dared the bull to charge.
Tony grinned. You always were a frickin’ show off, Durango.
The bull charged and Michael turned and ran for the rails, barely reaching safety before the animal’s horns clipped the bottom of his boots.
“There you have it, folks,” the announcer said. “Michael Durango took over the top spot in the standings with that ride.” When the noise in the arena leveled off, the announcer continued. “Later that night, Michael passed away in a car accident.” A hush fell over the stands. “Today Michael’s sister, Lucy Durango, is riding in his memory.”
Lucy perched on the top rail and waved to the crowd. The cameras zoomed in, displaying her image on the big screen.
