by Marin Thomas
Lucy’s father had the power to manipulate other people’s lives, and Michael’s death was all the motivation the man needed to carry through with his threat.
“I’m not Lucy’s keeper.” Even as Tony said the words, he expected Durango to hold him responsible for his daughter’s actions.
“The choice is yours, Bravo. Stop Lucy from competing this Saturday or you’ll find yourself stuck in Arizona forever.” Durango marched over to the exit and paused with his hand on the door. “You should know better than anyone that you can’t outrun your mistakes. They’ll follow you to the grave.”
Once the door closed, Tony gulped in a deep breath. Durango had laid the blame for Michael’s death at his feet—where it rightfully belonged. He slammed his fist against the wall, wincing when pain shot up his forearm. As soon as he returned to his desk, his boss called out to him.
“Bravo, get in here.”
Now what? “Sir?” Tony paused in Romero’s doorway.
“What did Durango want?”
“It was a private matter, sir. Nothing to do with our surveillance plans at the mine.”
“Sanez decoded a message in a chat room last night,” Romero said. “The cartel may be making their move soon.”
“How soon?”
“Don’t know. I’ve got everyone monitoring their assigned chat rooms right now.” Romero got up from his chair and peered through the miniblinds covering the window. “I’m worried a snitch is tipping off the cartel.”
“Someone in one of the chat rooms?”
“Maybe. What do you know about the foreman out at the Durango ranch?”
“Not much, why?”
“Barker was on patrol and spotted the man working on the west side of the property.”
“Durango agreed to steer clear of the mine until we were through with the investigation.”
“Durango is complying but not his foreman. The cowboy’s fixing fence that isn’t broken, picking up trash and—”
“Making sure he’s visible from the highway.” Tony finished his boss’s sentence.
“Anyone traveling along that road is likely to see the man or his truck.”
Durango was sabotaging the investigation, insuring that Tony couldn’t claim credit for his hunch that a Mexican cartel was involved with human trafficking in the area.
Romero stared at Tony. “I’ll ask again. What did Durango want with you a few minutes ago?”
Time to come clean. “He warned me to keep away from his daughter.”
“You’re involved with Lucy Durango?” The boss’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s a conflict of interest. You shouldn’t be on this case.”
“I’m not involved with Lucy…romantically.” According to Lucy, making love had been no big deal. “I’ve been giving her tips on bull riding.”
“I don’t want you going within a hundred yards of Durango’s daughter, you got that? If I hear of you contacting her, I’m pulling your transfer request.”
“Yes, sir.” Damn Durango and his meddling.
“And I’ll help you keep your promise, Bravo.”
“That won’t be—”
“I’m assigning you to the station five watchtower.”
Manning that particular watchtower was boring as hell and his boss used the duty as punishment for agents who didn’t listen to orders.
“For how long, sir?”
“Until the cartel makes their move, then you can rejoin the team.”
“When should I report to duty?”
“Tonight. Hernandez is out there now. I’ll radio him that he’s got some R & R coming.”
“Anything else, sir?”
“Yes. Just so we’re clear—” Romero cleared his throat “—I’m putting you in the tower because I don’t want you screwing up your career.”
Tony understood his boss had his best interests at heart. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Now get the hell out of my office.”
Ten minutes later Tony had cleared off his desk and stopped outside the officer’s lounge where Maddie was sleeping on the couch. The dog had made herself at home in the department. Tony had been bringing her to work ever since the morning after he and Lucy had made love at his mother’s trailer. If Lucy would return his calls, he’d tell her to come get the dog.
Tony grabbed her bowls and the dog-food bag, then snapped his fingers. “Let’s go for a ride, girl.” The dog leaped off the sofa and trotted after Tony.
If Tony was going to be stuck in a watchtower for days on end, he might as well take Maddie. The dog was a good listener and kept everything Tony said confidential. Maybe the boxer would help him figure out how to make his heart immune to Lucy.
* * *
HE’S NOT COMING.
Lucy stood among the cowboys behind the chutes at the Cibola Rodeo and Horse Show an hour and a half north of Yuma along the California border. Even though she’d told Tony that their lovemaking had meant nothing, she had hoped he’d show up at the rodeo to offer his support. She’d done as he’d suggested and had not practiced on Curly this past week. She’d told those who’d inquired about the wrap on her arm that it was a minor sprain, but moving her wrist still stung like heck.
To say she was nervous about executing her dismount was an understatement. She suspected the landing today would be rough and painful.
“Hey, Durango!” Shannon Douglas wore a big grin as she walked toward Lucy. “You’ve got a regular army of helpers out there in the parking lot asking for boot donations.”
Lucy’s heart swelled with gratitude. Word about her fundraiser had spread through the circuit and money was pouring into her website from all over the state. She had her brother to thank for people’s generosity. Michael had been a favorite among rodeo fans. He’d given autographs and had always taken the time to speak with the kids who worshipped him.
“I’m getting closer to my goal,” she said. Lucy hoped to reach the twenty-thousand-dollar mark once Wrangler matched today’s earnings.
“Did you take a look at your bull yet?” Shannon asked.
“Yes.” She’d drawn Trickster. Maybe it was her imagination, but the black bull appeared larger and more menacing than Migraine.
“Trickster’s only four years old. He’s new on the circuit and he’s sloppy.”
“What do you mean, sloppy?”
“He doesn’t have much of a rhythm to his kicks or spins. My advice is to stick like glue to his back, but if you lose your balance, take the first opening and dismount. Trickster’s not known to turn on his riders but he also doesn’t run for the gate right away. When you hit the ground, get to your feet as fast as you can.”
“Got it,” Lucy said, watching the crowd.
“Tony’s not coming today?” Shannon asked.
“I don’t think so.” Lucy sensed Shannon wanted to ask why. Instead, the cowgirl changed the subject.
“Same drill as last time. You and Trickster will kick off the bull-riding event this afternoon after they play the video of Michael’s final ride.” Shannon’s sympathetic smile made Lucy’s eyes sting. She shoved aside the melancholy—she couldn’t afford to lose sight of her goal before she straddled two thousand pounds of pissed-off bull.
“I’ll be back before you ride.” Shannon strolled away.
Lucy owed much of her fundraising success to Shannon—the lady bull rider had gone above and beyond to help raise money for the Pony Express. Left alone to wait, Lucy put on her protective gear and stood in the shadows, keeping her eyes averted from the JumboTron.
Once the announcer said her name, she stepped forward and waved to the crowd while rodeo helpers loaded Trickster into the chute and fished the rope beneath the bull. After the hoopla died down, Lucy closed her eyes and envisioned Tony’s face. She wanted
to make him proud of her.
After she counted to five, her nerves settled down and she climbed the chute rails and eased onto Trickster. The heat radiating off the bull’s back warmed her muscles and her adrenaline kicked into gear. She lined up her pinky finger with the middle of his back then Shannon appeared at her side.
“Tell me when it feels right.” Shannon wrapped the rope around Lucy’s hand, sparing Lucy from having to use her injured wrist to pull the rope tight.
“That’s good, thanks.” Once Shannon moved away, Lucy mentally checked off Tony’s list of bull-riding dos and don’ts.
“Remember to locate the bull as soon as you hit the ground.” Shannon’s voice interrupted Lucy’s concentration.
Lucy dipped her head—a rookie mistake. The gateman had been watching for her signal and mistook the movement as ready to ride. The gate swung open before Lucy had leaned forward over the bull’s shoulder and she almost lost her seat when Trickster cleared the chute. Once inside the arena, she fought with every ounce of strength she possessed to remain on the bull. Her bottom smacked up and down, jarring her spine and forcing the air from her lungs. Then Trickster twisted his back end, launching Lucy into the air.
Unprepared for the dismount, she instinctively stretched out her arms toward the ground instead of tucking her right arm against her body and absorbing the impact with her shoulder. Her hands and arms bore the full weight of her body when she hit the dirt. For an instant, she thought she’d escaped injury, then she spotted the bull’s hindquarters spinning toward her and she dove sideways to avoid his hooves.
The sudden movement twisted her right arm and she felt the snap of her wrist. Pain raced along her arm, across her shoulder, straight up her neck and into her skull. Her arm gave out beneath her and her face mask slammed into the dirt.
Get up! Get up!
Tony’s voice echoed inside her head, spurring her into action. She rolled to her feet and checked over her shoulder—Trickster continued to buck and spin. Lucy ran for the rails then attempted to climb to safety using only her left hand. Her boot slipped on the metal rung and a rodeo helper sprang into action, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her to safety.
Lucy gasped for breath.
“That was five seconds.” Shannon patted Lucy’s back. “Next time you’ll make it to eight.”
There might not be a next time. Lucy fumbled with the chin strap on her face mask and Shannon frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Lucy managed to remove the headgear and awkwardly stuffed it into her bag. She grasped the handles with her left hand. “I’d stay and watch you, Shannon, but I have to get back to the ranch.”
“No worries. See you next week in Cowlic.”
Gritting her teeth, Lucy headed to the parking lot still wearing her Kevlar vest. When she reached the truck, she rummaged through the center console and found the bottle of ibuprofen she kept there. She swallowed three tablets, using her spit to wash them down. With one hand, she carefully maneuvered the pickup out of her spot and drove south to Yuma, where she planned to stop at the E.R. and have her wrist x-rayed.
An hour and a half later, Lucy’s arm and shoulder were numb. Her wrist had swelled up and she was forced to loosen the elastic wrap on her arm. Once she arrived at the hospital a nurse helped her fill out the paperwork then escorted her to a cubical and took her vitals. While Lucy waited to be taken for X-rays she checked her phone messages—nothing from Tony. Would he call tonight to find out how she did?
The orthopedic surgeon diagnosed a clean break and put a hot pink cast on Lucy’s arm. He advised her to see her own doctor before sending her on her way with a prescription for pain pills and a warning to steer clear of bulls for at least six weeks.
Fat chance. Lucy had to compete in Cowlic seven days from now. Otherwise Wrangler wouldn’t match her donations. Once she completed her final rodeo, she would gladly leave bull riding to the professionals like Shannon Douglas.
After stopping at a drugstore to fill the prescription, Lucy swung into the drive-through of a fast-food restaurant then continued on to Stagecoach. She wanted nothing more than to return home so she could take a big-girl pain pill and fall asleep.
By the time she parked in front of the ranch house it was dark outside. She wasn’t looking forward to her mother’s reaction when she learned Lucy had broken her wrist. If she was lucky, she’d be able to sneak up to her room and put off the meeting until tomorrow morning. When her boot hit the bottom porch step, the outside light went on, blinding her. Her father’s silhouette filled the screen door.
“Hey, Dad.”
The door creaked open and he stepped outside. “What happened?” He nodded to the cast on her arm.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“What’s not a big deal?” Her mother joined them, a gin and tonic in her hand. A twinge of empathy shot through Lucy. No doubt her mother had paced the hallway for hours, worried over her.
“It appears our daughter has a broken arm.”
Lucy’s mother gasped then shoved her drink at her husband and rushed down the steps.
“I’m fine, Mom. It was a clean break. The doctor said the bone will heal in no time.” Lucy allowed her mother to usher her into the house.
“What happened?” she asked.
Lucy resisted the temptation to say that she’d fallen in the parking lot. “I landed wrong after I got bucked today.”
“This foolishness has to stop, Lucy.”
“Not now, Dad.” She was in no mood to go toe-to-toe with her father. “Let me get cleaned up then I’ll tell you all about the rodeo.” She climbed the stairs to the second floor and her bedroom, where she took a pain pill then checked her cell phone again.
Still no text from Tony.
He hadn’t wanted her to ride today, but didn’t he care how she did? Mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted, she collapsed on the bed. She’d rest for a few minutes then take a shower.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucy woke to voices in the hallway outside her room. She sat up on the bed and waited for the walls to stop spinning. Her father’s voice grew louder and her mother shushed him. Lucy crossed the room and stood behind the door, listening through the crack.
“You can’t let her ride in Cowlic, Cal.”
“This is all Bravo’s fault.”
“Then make him stop.”
“I thought I had.”
Lucy’s scalp tingled.
“What do you mean?” her mother asked.
“I paid him a visit at the border patrol station and told him that if he wanted a job transfer to San Diego he’d better keep his distance from Lucy.”
Her father had threatened Tony?
“She’s going to get herself killed.” Her mother’s voice quivered. “Stop her, Cal. I can’t lose both my children.”
Tears welled in Lucy’s eyes.
“I’ll phone the rodeo producers in Cowlic and make it clear that our daughter is to be banned from riding any animal on four legs.”
Lucy had no doubt her father would carry through with his threat. Whether she was ready or not, it was time to come clean with her parents.
Did you think you could avoid the truth forever?
In no shape to go nine rounds with her father, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
“You’re up,” her father said.
“I need to talk to you and Mom.” Lucy headed for the stairs.
“Damn straight we’re going to talk, young lady.”
“For goodness’ sake, Cal, settle down.” Her mother grabbed Lucy’s uninjured arm and descended the steps with her, then walked her into the living room at the front of the house. “Do you want something to drink, dear?”
“Water, please.” Her mother hurried
from the room, leaving Lucy and her father to square off.
“Was Bravo at the rodeo?”
“No.” Now she knew why. “Is it true? You told Tony to stay away from me?”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Lucy.” Her father shoved a hand through his hair. “Ever since your brother passed away you haven’t been able to…”
“Go ahead and say it.”
“Let him go.” He glared, defying her to contradict him.
“Let who go?” Her mother returned with Lucy’s water.
“Tony has nothing to do with my rodeo fundraiser. I asked him to teach me how to last a few seconds on a bull. At first he refused, but I blackmailed him.”
Her mother gasped. “Lucinda Durango.”
“I told Tony that if he’d give me a few pointers on bull riding, I’d convince Dad to give him access to the gold mine for his investigation.”
“Then it is his fault!” her father shouted.
“Tony tried to talk me out of it,” Lucy said. “But when he realized I intended to compete with or without his help, he insisted on teaching me how to remain as safe as possible.”
“A lot of good his advice did.” Her father motioned to her cast.
“Tony wasn’t at the rodeo today.” Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. Even though she understood why he hadn’t shown up in Cibola, she was disappointed that he’d picked his job over her.
You’re the one who told him making love didn’t matter. That it wasn’t a big deal.
“I don’t understand what’s going on between you and Bravo, but damn it, Lucy, he’s responsible for Michael’s—”
“No, he’s not.”
“If he’d stayed at the bar and given Michael a ride home, your brother would be alive today.”
“No, Dad.” Lucy shook her head. “I was the one who turned my back on Michael the night he died.”
Her parents stared in shock.
The words crowded her throat, but forcing them from her mouth was the toughest thing Lucy had ever done. “After Tony left the bar, Michael called me. He said he’d had too much to drink, and he asked me to come get him.”
