He wasn’t all wrong. Martins Gap couldn’t hold him. “So you left Martins Gap.” She found her courage and added, “And you left me.”
“Yes.” He regretted it. She was glad to see that much in his eyes.
She couldn’t look at him, so she sorted through the pile of colored exercise bands sitting on the table. “You said such...hurtful things.”
She heard him sigh. “I needed to burn the bridges behind me, I suppose. I figured we’d both be better off if you hated me.”
Part of her had known he was acting out, even then, but that did little to dull the sting. “It doesn’t work that way, Luke. When you love someone and you hurt them like that, all you do is make pain. You don’t flip some switch and turn love to hate.”
“I don’t know. It worked with my dad. I sure hated him by the end.”
It surprised her that she couldn’t really refute that. Gunner Buckton Sr. had indeed managed to flip that switch. As far as she knew, he’d been a decent enough father when his wife was still alive—stern, but loving in his own brusque way. That had changed when he became a widower, and by the end his children hated him. Knowing Granny B the way she did, it had always amazed her how a man raised by someone so loving could be so skilled at raising hate in his children. It made a sick sort of sense, now that she thought about it. Luke’s life had taught him that if you said enough hurtful things, hate grew. Only Ruby was pretty sure all that business between Luke and Gunner Sr. was about pain rather than hate.
“So did you hate me, in the end? Do you hate me now?”
That felt like an absurd question, given how much time she’d spent with Luke since his return to town. “I couldn’t be this nice to you if I hated you now.”
He laughed, but not out of humor. “Yeah, you could. You’re that good of a person. And that’s not an answer.”
The answer should be easy, but it wasn’t. He was asking what she felt for him, and the truth was she felt so many things for him it defied a simple answer. She opted for honesty. “No, I don’t hate you. I hate how you hurt me, but that’s not the same thing.”
Luke leaned up against the wall, bad leg crossed over good with most of his weight on the good leg. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So what are we, then?”
“Patient and therapist.”
Now he genuinely laughed. “Nope. Well, yes, but not just.”
High school sweethearts. Old loves. Friends. Exes. None and all of the above. She shrugged. “I don’t know what we are.”
“I wanted to kiss you back at Red Boots. I would have, if you’d let me.” That was Luke—direct as a missile and just as explosive.
“I know.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but her insides were tumbling in every direction.
“Kissing you was always so...amazing. Still would be, I think.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s this thing between us. Like fireplace embers. We could build it back up to flames in a second.”
“We could.”
“And it wouldn’t change anything. It’d be nostalgia, Luke. Playing off something that was and pretending it’s something that still is. And it’d feel great—for a moment. And then you’ll leave and I’ll stay. Don’t you think one round of that kind of hurt is enough?”
“So then what? I don’t want to put some silly box around what we are. I used to think we had to be an all-or-nothing thing, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. Can’t we just make it up as we go from here?”
“So you can kiss me and still leave?”
“No. Well, okay, maybe. I mean, come on, who doesn’t like a spectacular kiss? If you were some other girl, maybe I’d try for that. But that’d never be okay with you, I know that. I’m not that much of a jerk—well not anymore, anyway.”
Ruby gathered up the bands from the table. “I think we’re done here.”
He pushed off the wall and leaned over to gather up the pile of bands he’d left on the floor. As he handed them to her, he said, “I like this between us—whatever this is. I meant what I said. I need you. If I’m going to pull this off, I’ve got to have you doing it with me. It’s why I came home.”
Why could he always pick the thing to say that dug deep into her heart? “You came for Gran,” she countered.
“I thought I did, and I love her, but I figured out pretty quick that I really came for you.”
“What am I supposed to do with a remark like that?”
“Come back on Friday and help me show the world what I can do.”
* * *
Luke walked into the guesthouse and tossed the pile of papers on the table. It had been weird helping Gran sort through some of his old papers. He’d never been much for nostalgia, but she was getting a kick out of sifting through brittle old newspaper clippings from his high school days. She’d smile and put her hand to her chest when looking at photos of him as a toothy-grinned boy. She’d tsk and shake her head at shots of him as a wild, mussy-haired teenager.
She kept trying to foist a whole stack of things on him to keep, but he ended up packing most of it up into boxes and setting aside just a small pile for himself. Several were photos of him and Ruby during their inseparable days. Dreamy-eyed teenagers swimming in love. Had life ever really been that simple? Or were they just too young to see the complications?
Luke turned over his cell phone to see three missed calls from Nolan.
Nolan had called him? Not once but three times? Luke’s heart kicked against his ribs at the prospect of good news from his agent. Nolan wouldn’t be so insistent at delivering bad news—this had to be a welcome development, whatever it was.
He settled himself at the table, tilting the chair against the wall as he rubbed his hip. It ached something fierce after all the bending and reaching to fetch things down off the bookcases. He hated this old-man, creaky feeling. The numbness had always felt like a form of mental torture, but the constant nagging pain proved a new torment. It chipped away at his energy. Would it get better with more exercise? Or was this the way he’d feel from here on in? A young man dragging himself around in an old man’s body?
Luke put it out of his mind and dialed, glad to hear Nolan pick up on the second ring. “Hey there, Luke,” came Nolan’s friendly voice. “How’s it going down there on the family ranch?”
“It’s going fine, Nolan. Healing fast. That reporter Rachel seemed charmed by the bison—and, of course, by yours truly. She’s coming back tomorrow to interview Gran and Ellie and watch my session with Ruby. We want to make sure she has lots of good material to write me up nice.”
“You always did know how to woo the press, Luke.” There was a short pause. “That’s why I know you’ll be okay.”
Luke caught the hesitation in Nolan’s voice. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” When Nolan didn’t come back with an immediate answer, Luke’s gut sunk. “Whoa, Nolan. What’s up?”
The sigh on the opposite end of the line dropped Luke’s gut right down to the floor. “It’s Tornado Tires.”
Luke settled the chair back on the ground, his free hand on his forehead. Tornado had been with him for two years, and Nolan had been grooming them to be Luke’s major sponsor. Luke had endured a mess of fancy dinners playing nice to Tornado’s top brass. That couldn’t go south now.
“They...well, the truth is that they pulled out this morning.”
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d expected some of the smaller sponsors to get skittish, but not Tornado. “It’s the middle of the season. They can’t pull out. They always sponsor one of the top three riders.”
“They’ve had a slow year. They need the visibility.”
“How will they get visibility if they disappear off the sponsor roll?” He let his head fall back against the wall as he came up with the answer to his own question. “Tell me they didn’t shift
to Ray Knight. They can’t do that in the middle of the season, can they?”
“Your contract has a ‘no ride’ clause letting them leave if you’re out of the running for more than thirty days.”
Luke stood up—too fast, sending zings down the back of his leg. “But I’m coming back. They know that.”
There was a nasty pause before Nolan said “We know you’re coming back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I know you’re coming back, and you know you’re coming back, but everyone else...well, they’re not...convinced.”
“What am I paying you for?” Luke began pacing the room. “Convince them. Send out a stack of press releases or reports or whatever it is y’all do up there.”
“They carried you out of the arena on a stretcher, Luke. It’s not like I can just make that go away. You know how this works. The press is like an animal. Unless you feed it, it goes hunting somewhere else.”
“Rachel Hartman is here. I’m handing her every bit of detail I can, Nolan.”
“We have to give her the one detail she wants. The one they all want. And I’m not sure how much longer they’re going to wait for it. Set a date for your comeback ride, Luke. On JetPak. Give me a date, and I’ll set every wheel in motion that I can.”
Stay in the game. Feed the beast. He had no basis by which to set a date, but that couldn’t matter right now. If he wanted to keep his career alive then he needed to give the media machine what it needed, and that was a date. And a rematch with JetPak. Whether or not it was wise? Well, that had to go by the wayside.
Luke stared at the Pro Tour schedule pinned to his wall. With a half sinking, half soaring feeling, he said “San Antonio. September in San Antonio.”
“You’re sure?”
Of course he wasn’t sure. That was the whole point here, wasn’t it? Well, Nolan always used to say that sometimes his job was to get from Luke just a bit more than he was ready to give. “Absolutely. Book it.”
“Good thing. Glad to have you back, kid. I’ll call you when I’ve set the details.”
Luke ignored the hum of anxiety that just set up camp under his ribs. He wasn’t “back,” but he was on his way back, and that’s what mattered.
He put down the phone, right next to a sweet photo of him and Ruby on prom night. He remembered feeling like he’d just seen the most beautiful girl on earth when she came out to meet him that night. She’d looked like a princess.
Ruby would get him on JetPak by September.
Only...would she? It was more likely Ruby would be furious at what he’d just done. She’d push for caution. She’d say he couldn’t predict when he’d be ready. But she didn’t understand the rules in play here, what he could lose if he stayed out of the spotlight for too long.
He couldn’t do this without her, so he’d have to make her understand. Or at the very least, not get in his way.
Chapter Fourteen
Ruby sat opposite Luke and Rachel Hartman Friday morning at the picnic table in front of the ranch house. The reporter spread a file and a notebook open in front of her, a digital recording device set on the table between the three of them. The little red light blinked, a constant reminder that anything Ruby said would be “on the record.”
According to Luke, Rachel had spent the last hour interviewing Gran. Now it was Ruby’s turn. They’d spend thirty minutes talking, and then Rachel was going to observe Luke’s therapy session. Ruby had no real reason to feel nervous—she knew she was simply a supporting player in this story—but anxiety tightened her stomach nonetheless.
“So what do you think of your star client?” Rachel asked, pen poised over a fresh sheet of paper.
People around Martins Gap asked her that all the time. Those who knew their history added a wink and a nudge, those who didn’t usually wanted to know what Martins Gap’s most famous son was really like. She gave her now-standard reply. “He’s a handful.”
“A handful, with some pretty big goals. His comeback will be the story of the season. How does it feel to be at the center of it?”
That made Ruby laugh. She was never at the center of anything involving Luke Buckton. “Center? Not exactly.”
“She’s making it possible, though.” Luke interjected. “I’ve made huge strides in my healing since I’ve been working with Ruby. I could have gotten treatment from anybody, but I chose to come home and get treatment from the person I trust most.”
Ruby didn’t doubt Luke felt that way, but this was a part of him she’d never liked. The “lay it on thick” Luke who came out once the cameras—or tape recorders—turned on.
Rachel looked at her. “He pays you quite a compliment.” The reporter’s smile widened. “Ellie tells me you two have a bit of history.”
It annoyed Ruby that she felt heat rise in her cheeks. It was foolish to think she could get through this interview without her past relationship with Luke coming up, but she had hoped to get at least past the first five questions. “That was a long time ago. Yes we have ‘a bit of history’ as you put it, but it mostly means I know him well enough to work well with him. If that gives me an advantage to help him restore the function of his leg, then I’m glad for it.”
Rachel circled something on her notepad. “So, old flame helps our star meet his new challenge, huh?”
Why had she let Luke talk her into this? “No, not exactly. My goal is functionality. What Luke does with that functionality is his own choice.”
“So you don’t endorse the exhibition ride on JetPak in September?”
Ruby shot Luke a look. They’d talked about the idea in vague terms but he hadn’t mentioned that he’d set a date. In two months? On JetPak? And announced it to the press?
“I hadn’t shared our announcement with Miss Sheldon yet, Rachel.”
It dug under Ruby’s skin that Luke called her “Miss Sheldon” while referring to the reporter as “Rachel.” She scrambled for an appropriate response before settling on, “Well, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen Luke set a high bar for himself.” The date teetered on the verge of reckless. Was he ever planning to ask her advice on the matter? Or was it just her job to get him to whatever date he chose?
Rachel clearly picked up on the tension. “What do you think of the idea?”
It was tempting to shoot Luke down for his arrogance in front of the press, but she wouldn’t. “It’ll be a ride worth watching, that’s for sure.” She was proud of her response. Truth, but enough of a dodge to keep her out of trouble. Luke’s smile—half pleased, half “oops, maybe I should have told you that”—told her he felt the same. Luke may love this public relations game, but she found it exhausting.
Luke stood up. “How about we get to letting you see why that ride will be worth watching.” As if to prove his point, he slid out of the picnic bench with an athletic grace she wouldn’t have deemed possible weeks ago. He extended the bad leg out in front of him, wiggling the ankle back and forth. “See that? Now that’s what I call functionality.”
It was hard to call what they did next a true therapy session. To Ruby, it felt more like a show put on for Rachel’s benefit. If he found any of his exercises taxing or painful, he hid it well. In fact, to the untrained eye, he gave a convincing exhibition of restored health. She didn’t know whether to be impressed or angry. He’ll hurt after this, she told herself. More than usual thanks to overdoing it for show. Well, good. The pain might teach him a thing or two. Then again, she thought, he’s an expert at ignoring all kinds of pain.
“I don’t suppose it’ll surprise you to hear there’s been some doubt as to whether or not you can do this,” Rachel added when Luke finished one of his exercises with a dramatic flourish.
“Which is exactly why you’re here. I can do this. I could announce it twelve ways to Sunday, but it’s much better if you do
. Show the world. Maybe you should add some video. Can you get a camera crew?”
Ruby wanted to roll her eyes. Did he ever stop? She could just imagine the havoc a television crew would wreak on tiny little Martins Gap. If he wanted to launch a media circus, he should be in Austin, not inflicting his spotlight on everyone here.
Thankfully, Rachel didn’t seem interested. “I work for a magazine, Luke. We’ll get some photographs later and the day of the event, but I’ll leave the video to someone else.”
“Your loss.” Luke set down the kettle ball he’d been holding during a series of lunges.
“I think I’ll live,” Rachel replied.
“That’s our last set of reps,” Ruby announced, ready to end this little dog and pony show. She turned to Rachel. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
Rachel held out her hand. “No, I think I’m good. Thanks for your time and for letting me observe. I have a lot of respect for physical therapists—my father had a bad accident and he can still walk because of some great therapists like you.”
She’s nice, Ruby chided herself. She’s just doing her job. It’s Luke you should be mad at, springing that on you the way he did. As Rachel gathered up her notebook and headed to her car, Ruby changed her mind. No, you should be mad at yourself. For expecting Luke to act like anyone but Luke. This is who he is, who he’s always been.
The moment Rachel was out of sight, Ruby turned to Luke. “September? You told them you’d ride JetPak only two months from now? What happened to ‘well, maybe not the meanest bull’? What were you thinking?”
“One of my biggest sponsors ended our contract yesterday, and another one is talking about pulling out. We had to give them something or I’ll have no sponsors left.”
He made it sound like the end of the world. “Sponsors. You’ll risk your body—your health, how you’ll walk the rest of your life—based on a sponsorship budget? Do you understand, Luke, I mean really understand, what could happen if you do this too soon?”
The Bull Rider's Homecoming Page 11
