The Bull Rider's Bride
Page 1
Contents
Other Titles from Serenade Books
Title
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Dear Reader
The Chef Next Door Sample
Rhinestone Cowgirl Sample
Other Titles from Serenade Books
Copyright
Other Titles from Serenade Books
Taste of Texas Series
The Art of Falling (Book 1) by Julie Jarnagin
Kiss the Cowboy (Book 2) by Julie Jarnagin
The Wedding Barn (Book 3) by Julie Jarnagin
Cowgirl in the Kitchen (Book 4) by Julie Jarnagin
Heart of the City Series
Reclaiming Brynn (Book 1) by Susan Crawford
Saving Justice (Book 2) by Susan Crawford
Redeeming Cade (Book 3) by Susan Crawford
Pies, Books & Jesus Series
Firefly Summer (Book 1) by Kathleen Y'Barbo
Autumn Skye (Book 2) by Kathleen Y'Barbo
Seaside Romance Series
Special Delivery (Book 1) by Gayle Roper
Seaside Gifts (Book 2) by Gayle Roper
Lone Star Brides Series
The Bluebonnet Bride (Book 1) by Pamela Tracy
The Bull Rider's Bride (Book 2) by Vickie McDonough
The Butterfly Bride (Book 3) by Lacy Williams
Journeys of the Heart Series
The Gentleman's Quest (Book 1) by Camille Elliot
The Road Home (Book 2) by Winnie Griggs
The Trail Boss's Bride (Book 3) by Erica Vetsch
Single Titles
Secondhand Cowboy by Lacy Williams
A Matter of Trust by Winnie Griggs
Love's a Stage by Rene Gutteridge & Cheryl McKay
O Little Town of Bethany by Rene Gutteridge & Cheryl McKay
Rhinestone Cowgirl by Denice Christensen
The Chef Next Door by Lenora Worth
Anthologies
Journeys of the Heart: An Anthology by Camille Elliot, Winnie Griggs, and Erica Vetsch
The Boy Next Door: An Anthology by Lenora Worth, Susan Crawford, Gayle Roper, Kathleen Y'Barbo, Rene Gutteridge & Cheryl McKay
Second Chances: An Anthology by Julie Jarnagin, Susan Crawford, Rene Gutteridge & Cheryl McKay
The Cowboy Collection by Julie Jarnagin, Lacy Williams, Kathleen Y'Barbo
Stay up-to-date with the latest releases from Serenade Books by joining our email New Release list.
The Bull Rider's Bride
By Vickie McDonough
Chapter One
Pecan Ranch
Mid-August
Dustin Starr's heart pounded as he gripped the bull rope in his gloved hand. The sixteen-hundred-pound beast beneath him—a rank bull named Black Vortex—tensed. The animal snorted and shook its head. Dusty centered his hips over the bull's back, wishing he'd drawn a better ride than this one, which had a reputation for hurting riders. He pounded his fist down, mumbled a quick prayer for safety and for an eight-second ride, then nodded to the gate man.
"All right folks," the announcer hollered. "Here comes one of our top cowboys, Dustin Starr!"
The chute flew open. The crowd cheered. Vortex burst free in a sharp, twisting leap that nearly unseated Dusty. The crazed creature circled to the left, beginning a nature-defying spin that had earned him his name. The faster the bull spun, the harder it was for Dusty to keep his seat as the momentum forced him sideways.
Suddenly, the bull leapt out of the spin—something he rarely did. Dusty's grip slipped. He slid down the bucking bull's side, jerked his hand free, then hit the ground hard. He looked up at the bull's dark belly as a sharp pain ratcheted through his shoulders. Ignoring it, he rolled. He had to get clear while the creature's hind hooves were in the air. Dusty hunched up, preparing to jump to the side, but Vortex twisted in mid-air. His rear hooves slammed down onto Dusty's left leg. A fiery explosion of pain detonated in his knee.
A bullfighter named Clem flapped his arms, trying to get Vortex's attention. The crazed bull spun away from the bullfighter, leapt again. Dusty lurched out of the way, but one of the bull's hooves clipped his forehead. Pain erupted in his head—then blessed darkness descended.
Dusty jerked awake and bolted up, frantically searching for the bull. Breathing hard, he reached for his leg, but his hand paused in midair. Just another stupid dream. His heart pounded from the nightmare that refused to leave him alone. Sweat drenched his T-shirt and trickled down his temple. He sucked in several calming breaths. Relax, man. It wasn't real.
But it was. Black Vortex was the reason he was laid up at his grandma's house—the reason he would never ride the rodeo circuit again.
He rubbed his aching knee—the one that rank bull had broken in numerous places. At least his busted collarbone had healed and rarely bothered him anymore, but this morning's rain had set his knee to aching and was probably what had brought on the recurring nightmare. He turned in the bed and stood, taking slow steps until the blood had worked its way into his leg. At twenty-six, Dusty was as washed up as the old, rusty farm truck sitting out behind the barn. He popped a couple of over-the-counter pain relievers in his mouth and swallowed them.
A knock sounded at the front door. Butterscotch, his grandma's apricot poodle, barked, and his toenails tapped a quick cadence down the hall as he hurried to the front of the house.
"Dustin, would you mind getting that?" his grandma hollered. "You're a bit quicker than I am."
He snorted a harsh laugh. "Not by much," he mumbled.
"Dustin?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm goin'."
He limped to the front door and pulled it open. His breath, which had finally settled back to normal, left him again. He blinked at the beautiful vision in front of him.
Lindsey Lang. What was she doing here after all this time?
Butterscotch sniffed Lindsey and let out a woof.
"Get back in here, mutt."
The dog snuffled their visitor again then trotted inside, proud of himself.
A tenuous smile found its way to Lindsey's lips. "Hi, Dusty. Long time no see. I expected you'd have a lab or cow dog, not a poodle."
"He's Gramma's, not mine."
Lindsey winced at his grousing. She was prettier than ever, especially with that teasing glint in her eyes and her blond hair pulled back into a fancy braid. His rebellious heart kicked up its gait.
"Are you going to let me in?"
His gaze narrowed. The woman who'd stolen his heart then stomped on it wasn't welcome here. "What for?"
Her smile faltered, and the gleam in her blue eyes dulled, sending a spear of guilt into his chest. "I'm…um…your grandmother's new physical therapist. I'm here to check on her."
"What happened to Diane?" The therapist that had come twice during the week he'd been staying at Gramma's didn't affect his equilibrium, and she'd brought cookies last time she came. How come Gramma hadn't told him about the change in therapist, especially considering his and Lindsey's past? He blew out a sigh and pushed open the screen door. "I reckon you can come in."
"Diane was subbing for me while I was gone." As she scurried past him, he caught a sweet whiff of something flowery. She paused. "Um…where can I find Shirley?"
He motioned with his hand. "In the den, I think. I imagine you still know where that is, even if it's been a lifetime since you were last here. The house hasn't changed—much."
Pursing her lips, she gave a quick nod, then turned and fled.
He hadn't meant to be so grumpy, but he didn't
like surprises, especially monumental ones. And…well…his leg hurt. And maybe even his pride. Lindsey was the last person he wanted to see him hobbling around and looking like a bum.
Even though it was lunchtime, he returned to his room and shut the door. He flopped down in his recliner, grabbed the deck of cards on the corner of his desk, and began flipping them one at a time into a boot. He missed more than he made, but that was the story of his life. If only that dumb bull hadn't ended his career when he was at the top of his game. He glanced over to the desk to look at the one and only gold buckle he'd earned for winning the world rodeo championship last year. He'd been on track for a second one, until his accident took him out of the game—permanently.
He tossed another card and missed. Dusty set the deck down and scrubbed his hand across his bristly jaw. He hated being laid up and inactive. He needed something productive to do.
Feminine laughter jerked his gaze to his closed door. Lindsey had looked good. He hadn't seen her in years, but she'd matured from a skinny teen with pretty blue eyes, blond hair, and quick smile into a beautiful woman. And she was a physical therapist. It didn't surprise him that she'd gone into the medical field, given her desire to heal every wounded critter she found. Back when he was in junior high, the Lang barn housed more cats than any other he'd been to. And he'd only had eyes for one girl—Lindsey. But that was before the world went haywire and everything changed.
Unable to sit still any longer, he stood and opened the door. He peeked out, hoping to avoid Lindsey. She'd want to fix him, but he was beyond repair. He eased down the hall, limped past the den opening, and relaxed when he reached the kitchen. He stopped suddenly at the sight of the two women at the table, sending a sharp pain into his knee. At times he wished he were a cursing man. Quietly, he backpedaled and had almost made his getaway when his grandma looked his way.
"Oh, good. There's Dusty now. Come on in here and get reacquainted with your old friend."
#
Lindsey wished she had magical powers, so she could toss out some fairy dust and disappear. Why hadn't she begged off the assignment of Shirley Starr's care when she'd had the chance? Because Shirley had been her grandmother's best friend, that's why, and she wanted to help Dusty's grandmother after learning about her slow recovery. And in all honesty, she wanted to see Dusty—to make sure he was okay. She dragged her eyes away from him to the cat curled on the throw rug in front of the sink. Dusty might have a limp, longer hair than when he was rodeoing, and a barn-sized chip on his shoulder, but he was more than a little okay.
"She's here to check you, Gramma, not chat with me," Dusty said, his tone polite but distant. He shifted his stance, keeping his weight on his uninjured leg.
Lindsey wondered how badly it bothered him. The break he'd suffered just three weeks ago had been a bad one, but he was young and healthy and should be healing well, especially after having knee replacement surgery.
"Are you all right, dear?" Shirley's eyebrows pinched together as she studied Lindsey. "How have you managed since your mother's death?"
Lindsey refocused on her patient and allowed the tension to flow out at Shirley's sudden change of topics. "I'm doing well. Staying busy."
"That big house must be lonesome with just you there now."
Lindsey tried to concentrate on her patient, not her empty home or Dusty, who leaned uncomfortably against the doorframe as if he were afraid to come closer. She tugged her blood pressure cuff from her bag and wrapped it around the older woman's wrist. "Please hold your arm against your chest and don't move for few moments, Mrs. Starr."
"Call me Shirley." Dusty's grandmother smiled. "Most everyone else does."
The black-and-white cat stood and stretched, then moseyed over to Shirley and rubbed up against one of the chair legs.
Lindsey took the time to glance around the kitchen while the cuff pumped up. As far as she could tell, not a thing had changed since the last time she'd been here—nearly a decade ago, before her brother had died and her world had fallen apart.
The walls were a dingy yellow, and the stove was an avocado green that had been popular forty years ago. The only new items were the black microwave on the Formica countertop and the refrigerator. A stack of knitting magazines sat on one corner of the scarred table. The room smelled of bacon from the cast iron skillet that still held some leftover grease on the stove.
Dusty, as well as his identical twin, Daniel, had surely made good money in the rodeo, especially since Dusty had been top cowboy a year ago. Why hadn't they fixed up their grandmother's home? After all, they owed her for raising them. She pursed her lips and wrote down Shirley's blood pressure. She had no say in what the Starr brothers did. Her job was to make sure Shirley was healthy and to help her walk again without the aid of a walker.
She pushed back her concerns about the house and smiled. "I'm glad to see you're no longer using the wheelchair. Your pulse and blood pressure are good. Have you had any pain, dizziness, or confusion?"
Shirley swatted her hand in the air. "Oh, just the usual aches and pains for a woman my age. My arthritis always acts up on rainy days. Other than that, I can't complain."
"That's good." Lindsey jotted a note about Shirley's condition then put her equipment away. "Diane made a note in your file that Daniel was staying here with you when you were first injured, but I heard in town he's living in the MacIntosh house while he fixes it up, so I'm guessing he's no longer here." She shot a glance at Dusty. He had been staring at her, but he quickly shifted his eyes away.
A wide smile brightened Shirley's features. "Daniel got engaged last week, and Amy wants that place fixed up before they get married and she moves in." Shirley exhaled a sigh. "I'll be so glad to see that boy married. Now, if only Dusty would find a good woman like Daniel did."
Lindsey wasn't about to touch that topic. She searched for something else to say, but Shirley rescued her.
"Have you met Amy? She's fairly new to town."
"She owns the craft store, right?"
Shirley nodded. "Yes, and she's thinking about opening a bakery next door to it."
"I've been in her store a couple of times to buy a few sewing supplies, but I don't know her all that well. I hadn't heard about the bakery though. It sure would be nice to have one in town."
Shirley looked in Dusty's direction. "Have you heard anything new about it?"
He shrugged. "Just that Dan was still looking into the financial feasibility of it."
"I guess we'll hear something sooner or later." Shirley turned back to face Lindsey again. "So, is it true you just returned from a two-month missions trip?"
"I did. I was in Haiti, working at a mobile medical unit. We visited orphanages and cared for the children and went to some of the smaller towns to treat the local folk who needed medical attention."
Dusty cleared his throat. He still refused to enter the kitchen and continued to lean against the doorjamb. "That was a really nice thing to do."
Lindsey flicked a quick glance his way. "Um…thank you. I've…uh…gone on trips the past three summers."
Her brain seemed to fog over whenever she looked at him. After so many years apart, his presence shouldn't disturb her as it did. Daniel and Luke never affected her that way, and neither had any other man.
She was happy to hear that Daniel had settled down and would be married soon, but nothing had been said about Dusty's younger brother. How was he getting along after all that had happened? "Speaking of traveling, I heard Luke has been doing some. Have you seen him lately?"
Dusty frowned and gave a sharp shake of his head, his gaze shifting toward Shirley. Lindsey's heart skipped a beat. It pained her to see the older woman's smile fade. Was Luke a taboo subject? "Are you…um…still using your walker?"
"Yes, but I'll be glad to be rid of that contraption. I almost ran over Butterscotch the other day."
Lindsey smiled. "It's better than a wheelchair."
"That's true. I sure didn't like being confined to one, but I
suppose it was necessary. I can't wait to get this boot off—Oh! Itch! Itch." Shirley grabbed a short dowel rod off the table, shoved it inside the boot, and pulled it up and down. "Ahh…that's better."
Lindsey had been gone on her trip when Shirley had first fallen and broken her ankle, but she'd read about it in the newspaper a friend had sent her. "You should be able to get it off before too long."
"My doctor says it will probably be another three weeks. These old bones don't heal as fast as younger ones." Shirley put the stick back on the table and laid her hand over Lindsey's. "It's so good to see you again, dear." Shirley pulled her hand back to her lap. "I'm so sorry for all that's happened between our families. I wish we could go back and wipe the slate clean." A soft smile lifted her cheeks. "I bet you and Dusty would be married with several youngsters by now if things had been different."
She knew what Shirley meant but couldn't say, "If Luke hadn't played a part in Sean's death." Lindsey still missed her younger brother—her only sibling. She swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. The accident had caused a rift between her and Dusty that had lasted for six years—still lasted.
She glanced toward him but found the doorway empty. How many times had she dreamed of being married to him? If only he hadn't abandoned her when she'd needed him most. Things might have turned out very differently. She certainly needed to shift Shirley's thinking in another direction. "Oh, you know Dusty. He was so focused on becoming top cowboy that he wouldn't let anything stand in his way."
And he had achieved his dream—but now he was sidelined. In the short moment she'd spent with him at the door, she could tell how devastated he was. He looked depressed—lost.
Shirley reached out and patted Lindsey's arm again, drawing her gaze back. "Dusty only had eyes for you. He's never mentioned another woman to me. Maybe it's not too late."