The Bull Rider's Homecoming

by Allie Pleiter

  Those last words were for her benefit—Luke never said “if I can” to any challenge. It was win or go down swinging. She honestly worried that if she didn’t comply, Luke would come back here and press Tyler until he gave in—and that had no hope of ending well.

  Stay close, Lord. Save him from himself, if that’s Your will. I’ll try to pick up the pieces as best I can. “One minute each level. No more.” There was no point in arguing. Instead, she stared up at him until he stopped adjusting his position and met her gaze. “Be careful, Luke.” It felt about as useless as asking a tidal wave to play nice, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She switched it on.

  The first two levels went smoothly—well, smoothly by mechanical bull standards. By the third minute—the level he’d achieved last time—she began to hear grunts from him and his body looked less in control. The fourth minute, he looked as if he’d go airborne any second, his arms and legs closer to flailing than the deliberate counterbalance of a bull rider. Ruby felt her breath come in short spurts, her fingers clenching the dial while her eyes shifted from the timer to Luke and back again.

  At fifteen seconds into the fifth minute, Luke’s grip gave out and the bull threw him into the far side of the padded ring.

  “Luke!” She slammed the controls to the off position as he rolled across the padding ending with his back to her. She saw his legs recoil, drawing up in what could only be pain. The whole thing had been a stupid mistake, an indulgence of his determination that never should have happened.

  Ruby climbed over the railing to dash unsteadily across the thick padding as Luke rocked back and forth. He gave a moan, and her heart sunk. He’d set back his healing if not destroyed it all together, and she’d been the one who made it happen. “Luke! Are you hurt? In pain?” Silly questions to a man moaning on the ground. Ruby reached him, rolling him by the shoulder until he lay, eyes squeezed shut, face up.

  He gave a tight moan, one hand clutching his left hip.

  “Can you move? Did you hurt yourself?”

  He still hadn’t opened his eyes. Ruby’s pulse was slamming up against her ribs.

  “Ouch,” he pushed out in more exhale than word. Then one eye opened. “But not as much ouch as I remember.” A smile—a pained smile but a smile nonetheless—spread across his features.

  Ruby whacked her hands against his chest. “You’re not hurt!”

  He winced a bit. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’re not really hurt. You scared me to death.”

  His hands wrapped around her wrists and held her palms to his chest. “Aww, you care.”

  The look in his eyes toed up against an imaginary line they’d drawn between them. “Of course I do.” And then, just to cover the heat she felt rising up her back, she added, “I can’t get a reputation for injuring my most famous patient, can I?”

  She went to sit back, to put some space between them, but he kept his hold on her wrists. “Ruby...” Most of her wished he didn’t say her name in the mesmerizing way he did.

  “No, don’t.”

  “Wait a minute. Please. Let me say this.” With a grin, he added, “It’ll give me a dignified way to catch my breath.”

  Catch his breath maybe. Ruby was currently finding it hard to breathe with the way Luke was looking at her. In all the risks of today’s stunt, this was a danger she hadn’t counted on facing.

  “You knew. You knew I needed to do this, and how I needed to do this. No one’s ever been able to figure me out like you have. It’s why I knew I couldn’t do this without you.” One hand released her wrist to come up and brush his fingertips against her cheek.

  For a moment she was back in high school, smitten and flabbergasted that such a touch could ever happen. How did this attraction still hold so much power after all that pain and all those years? Despite every logical reason to the contrary, Ruby couldn’t say whether she’d resist if he chose to kiss her just now. He knew it—she could read it in his eyes.

  She wanted to have something clever to say, some snappy comeback to put a safe lid on the box of fireworks Luke kept opening up between them. Instead, a potent and sizzling silence stretched between them. She considered giving in, letting him kiss her just to feel that thrill again. To remember what it was like when the dashing, popular boy had eyes only for her. When life wasn’t tangled and full of pressures and the future had a million possibilities even in tiny Martins Gap.

  Luke’s hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck. Any moment he would pull her face toward him and take them down that perilous road again.

  Somewhere, way down deep below her galloping heart, she found the solid core of resistance, the scar still left from the pain. Ruby reached up and pulled his hand away. “Don’t.”

  He released his grip on her. “Why?”

  Now it was she who closed her eyes. “Because we’re not those people anymore.”

  “I know that.”

  Did he, really? “Sit up, Luke. It’s time to go. You did what we came here to do.”

  * * *

  Luke and Gunner sat on the big house steps the next night, a box of Shorty’s pizza open between them. It was something they hadn’t done together in years—a throwback to the times when Luke was just Gunner’s gawky kid brother. To the times when they were allies against the common enemy—their father’s temper.

  “Ugh. It’s still as bad as it was back then,” Luke said as the gooey cheese stretched off his bite.

  “That’s what so good about it.” Gunner hoisted the tip of his own huge slice toward his mouth. “Junky, greasy—pizza isn’t supposed to come any other way in my book.”

  “You need to get out more,” Luke replied behind a mouthful of oily cheese and questionable pepperoni. “This is barely pizza by my standards.”

  “You could always go inside and make yourself a salad.”

  Luke laughed. “Not a chance.”

  “Beats going shopping with Gran and the girls for that bridal shower, that’s for sure. Should we have invited cousin Witt?” Gran, Ellie, Brooke, Audie and baby Trey had gone into Austin to go shopping for a family bridal shower for Witt’s upcoming wedding to Jana.

  “Then we’d probably end up eating burgers.”

  “That’s true. Hey, I did my interview with Ms. Hartman. She let it slip about some big upcoming event. I think it’s time you let us in on what you’ve got planned. Ruby isn’t talking, but I know she knows.”

  She knew all right, even if she wasn’t happy about it. The exhibition ride was coming, even if they hadn’t yet set a date. He’d made it to level five on that mechanical bull, and while he was sore, his knee hadn’t buckled once today. His leg had held up reasonably well on Buster Boots, even if his reactions were sluggish and off. Maybe it was time to let the family know. They’d push back, for sure, but he was ready. “I’m gonna ride.”

  “Ride?”

  Luke tried not to be annoyed at the look of utter disbelief on his brother’s face. “An exhibition ride, not a competitive one.”

  “Come on, Luke, are you really ready? I mean, a horse is one thing, but a bull...”

  “I know what I’m doing. I’ve got feeling back. It hurts, and it’s weaker than I’d like, but I’ll work with it. The longer I stay out, the harder it’ll be to come back. You know how this works. The sponsors are getting itchy. An exhibition ride,” he repeated, seeing Gunner’s face still set in a doubtful frown. “No competition.”

  Gunner sat back, offering only a grunt.

  “You knew I was going back.”

  “That’s not what you said back in the barn a few weeks ago. Back then it sounded like there was a possibility you might not ever go back.”

  “That was before I could feel my leg. Back before Ruby got it working again.”

  Gunner pulled one hand throug
h his hair. “Yeah, and there’s another thing. You’re not looking to take up with her again, are you?”

  “No.” Even he didn’t believe that answer. Back at Red Boots, so many of his old feelings for her had kicked into high gear. She was right, though—they were different people. Only the singular difference he’d noticed at that moment was that the old Luke wouldn’t have respected her refusal, and would have charmed her into a kiss. And another. He knew how to push her buttons just as accurately as she know how to push his.

  “Forgive me if you don’t sound too convinced.” Gunner evidently could read him better than Luke remembered. “There’s a lot of water under the bridge between you two. Things could get messy.” After a moment, Gunner added. “She deserves better than that.”

  “She deserves better than me, that’s for sure. Even if everything else weren’t messed up between us, I’m not staying and she’s not leaving.”

  “I’m glad you see that. But you know,” Gunner flipped the box open again and grabbed another slice, “‘not staying’ could still include a few more visits. Gran’s really happy you’re here.”

  This was a topic Luke had actually meant to talk to Gunner about. “How is she? Really.”

  “She’s pushing ninety—the years are catching up to her.” Gunner sat back after taking an enormous bite. The man always could inhale a pizza. “She’s slowing down—not that she’d admit it to anyone. That’s where you get it from, you know.”

  “My admirable tenacity?”

  Gunner bumped Luke’s shoulder. “Your infuriating bullheadedness.” Gunner’s features changed. “She won’t be here forever. Spend some real time with her while you can.”

  His brother’s words pulled a sharp pain in Luke’s gut. He and Gran locked horns so often when he was in high school, but he always knew she loved him. She’d been a fierce, unrelenting anchor for him back when he had precious few moorings in this world. He’d talked himself out of missing her so many times in those first few years away, calling to mind the disappointed face she’d held as he’d gotten on his motorcycle and driven away for the last time. Luke’s charm enabled him to get away with a lot in the world, but charm never worked with Gran. He was just coming to realize what a gift that was. Up until the accident, his world was sorely short of folks who would shoot straight with him. “True friends,” Gran would call them—right after she yelled at him for treating Ruby like anything but a “true friend, much less a true love.”

  Such pinches of regret didn’t agree with him these days. “This from the guy who disappeared for how many years?” he defended. “Who didn’t make it home for dad’s funeral?” Gran’s face when he’d left town had nothing on the way she’d looked when Gunner had missed Dad’s funeral.

  Gunner’s face hardened. “You never could resist a low blow.” He set down the pizza slice. “And it’s not like I didn’t deserve that. But I came back. And I stayed. Things are going good here. Don’t keep away, that’s all I’m saying. I don’t want the next time you show up to be Gran’s funeral.”

  The remark chilled him. “C’mon, she’s all right, isn’t she? I mean, you’d tell me if there was something serious going on, right? This is Gran, she’ll go on forever.”

  “No one does, Luke. Look, I get why you left. And I’m glad you came back to get all this straightened out. But family, man, you’ve got to hang on to that. Look at you and Tess. She’s your twin sister, you used to be so close, and now she’s halfway around the world taking photos in Australia for that travel magazine she works for. She leads a pretty interesting life, you know. Or wouldn’t you, since when’s the last time you talked to her?”

  If Gunner had to go looking for a subject more sore than Gran, he’d found it. His beef with Tess had started when he’d left and just grew from there. Never one to hold back on opinion, Tess made sure he knew how she felt—not just about bull riding, but about the rowdy nights and the strings of buckle bunnies, too. “I got tired of her riding me all the time. No one needs their twin sister to act like their mother, you know?”

  “Maybe it’s because she loves you and worries about you. Who enjoys their twin brother gaining a rep as rodeo’s resident bad boy?”

  Luke felt his back stiffen. “So that’s it? Forget the championships, the prize money, the acclaim, y’all just can’t see past the scandal sheets?” Everybody in this family was always trying to make him into someone he wasn’t. Luke had never been “pillar of the community” material—that was Gunner’s new role. Right here was a perfect example of why he needed to put Martins Gap in his rearview mirror back then—and maybe still today.

  Luke got up, his leg throbbing and needing a stretch. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. This stuff’s been going on for years. It’s not gonna suddenly melt into happy family sunshine just because I fell off a bull.”

  Gunner managed a small smile. “A bull throws you ten feet in the air into a metal fence and you’re gonna go with fell?” He shut the pizza box. “Call Tess. It would mean the world to Gran if you mended fences with her here before you...left. Whenever that is.”

  He could do that much for Gran. After all, he’d left things badly with his twin sister at Ellie’s wedding. “Maybe.”

  “Thanks.”

  It struck him just then, turning to look at his older brother who’d striven to pull the Buckton family back together from its splintered quartet of siblings, had even brought Witt from the estranged branch of Bucktons into the fold. “You’re better than him, you know.”

  “Than who?”

  “Than Dad. This ‘head of the family’ thing. The ranch, us. You handle it better than him. Just saying.”

  The smile that crossed Gunner’s face was a full, true grin. “A compliment. From my little brother. Just how hard did your head hit that fence?”

  Gunner was rewarded with a clod of dirt kicked over his boots. By Luke’s bad leg. Which wasn’t so bad anymore after all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was hard to see Luke again. He’d ruffled her composure so much back at the Red Boots, she wasn’t quite sure how she’d feel at his next therapy appointment. Today she wished his training was at the medical center, not the Blue Thorn where so many memories lurked.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Luke, ever the showman, didn’t look the slightest bit fazed when he met her at the guesthouse door. She knew better than to believe the facade—the connection they’d almost reforged at Red Boots was as strong for him as it was for her. He was just infinitely better at keeping it hidden. It gave him a decidedly unfair advantage.

  She hugged her files like a shield. “Good morning to you, too. How’s the leg feeling?”

  “Feeling,” he smirked. “And that’s a good thing. Glad to be hurting, you know?”

  That was a dangerous subtlety. Neuropathy or paralysis patients often struggled with feeling whole again, and could turn pain—or the pursuit of it—into an obsession. The “if I hurt then I’m alive” mentality could take some people down a dangerous path. “You need to take this at a reasonable speed. Do you think you can do that, mister ‘let’s go two more levels until I’m thrown off’?”

  “Hey,” he countered. “The whole thing was your idea. You had to know I’d do that.”

  She had. She had known full well he’d run the risk of going beyond his abilities yesterday. Letting him go up to level five had been a calculated risk. He would have found a way to do it anyway. At least Red Boots was a controlled environment. Rodeo arenas weren’t padded; no bucking bull had an “off” switch. “Are you ready to work? I’ve come up with some new regimens now that we know how your leg behaves.” When Luke gave a “this ought to be fun” smirk, she cautioned, “This will hurt.”

  He spread his hands wide. “Bring it on.”

  Twenty minutes later, as sweat beaded off his forehead and grunts punctuated his every move
, Luke lost his zeal. “You weren’t kidding.”

  He was much easier to handle while he was taxed. He didn’t have enough energy to flirt, so they could keep to the task at hand. He waited until she announced the final set of exercises before mentioning, “Rachel is going to come watch Friday’s session.”

  “Oh really? Quick left. Did it occur to you to ask me if this was okay by me? Right.” She’d been calling out sudden direction changes while he paced around the room, rebuilding his reflexes and muscle memory. “Backward, now slow to the right. Three more minutes.”

  He stopped, pointing at her. “You’re punishing me,” he puffed, out of breath. It wasn’t a whine, it was a declaration.

  “I’m treating you. Quick right. I’m sorry if it feels like punishment, but you’re the one who set the ambitious goal on the tight timeframe. Slow left.”

  “It’s not the exercises, darlin’, it’s the attitude. You want me to hurt.” He’d stopped just short of saying “you want to hurt me,” but they both heard it in his voice.

  She took the bull by the horns. “I do not want to hurt you. Left.”

  He stopped again. “You should. I hurt you.”

  He’d never admitted it so directly before. Yes, they’d had conversations that danced around how they were “different people” or “had history” but it had never come to admitting hurt. It took Ruby a moment to decide how to respond.

  “Yes, you did.” In for a penny, in for a pound. “You hurt me deeply, Luke Buckton.”

  Luke stopped walking, holding her gaze for a moment. His blue eyes looked like the depths went on forever. “I know that.”

  “Did you know it when you left? Did you think about it at all?” The distinction became suddenly important—only which was worse? To be deliberately hurt or just be the fallout of thoughtlessness? “Be honest. You owe me that much.”

  She was glad he paused and thought about it. “I wouldn’t let myself think about it at first. I let all the dreams and the money dangling in front of my face crowd it out. I told myself Martins Gap couldn’t hold me and it was—I don’t know, my destiny or some such highfalutin thought—to leave.”