The Bull Rider's Redemption

by Heidi Hormel

  “Here you are,” she said as she handed him the beer and pushed away the old memories. She had a job now. Get the properties VCW needed and convince the town to agree to their rezoning requests and restrictions, which would make Rico Pueblo possible. She couldn’t worry about what she’d heard about Danny. That he was starting a rehab and contracting business by buying properties in the same area VCW had slated for its entertainment zone.

  He looked at the bottle carefully. “I never pegged you for a beer drinker.”

  She shrugged. “The label has a horse’s head on it.”

  He took a sip and then said, “You went to Wharton business school? I remember you saying that you wanted to be a designer.”

  “I thought I wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps. But my talent was more about the numbers and less about creating the perfect hemline. I switched gears partway through my undergrad program. What about you? Weren’t you going to go to your mom’s alma mater?”

  “That was my mom’s idea anyway and I tried, but you know what I thought about school. When I started winning big at the bulls and bringing in a decent living, I knew if I went full-time I’d make it.”

  “I can’t imagine your parents were thrilled you quit college.” She could imagine her own parents’ reaction, if she’d done something like that.

  “They just wanted me to be happy. I can always go back to school, with all of the online classes.”

  She nodded. “I heard you’ve become a builder or something?”

  He talked about his work, then about his family, including his nearly new niece. “Jessie and Payson were so excited when she got pregnant, and now that little Gertie is here, they’re awful. Jessie has taken thousands of pictures and sends me all of them. See,” he said, passing along his phone with the picture album app open. Clover could hear and see the love he had for the baby. She would never have imagined that of the swaggering cowboy he’d been. Perhaps he really had changed. After all, she had. Being the prettiest girl in the room had stopped being important to her.

  “So when are you going to settle down and have babies yourself?” she asked—because it seemed like what she should ask, not because she was dying to know.

  “Would need to find the right woman.”

  Clover refused to think about why she was relieved to hear that.

  Danny went on. “What about you or your brother? Any little Van Camps?”

  “Knox, well... He’s Knox. I’m focused on my career and working with VCW.”

  “No boyfriend? No fiancé?”

  She shook her head. “What about you?”

  “Between my business and being mayor, I just don’t have the time.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you. You said you could always make time for the ladies.”

  “I said that in an interview when I was twenty-one and just won a buckle. You kept up with me?”

  She may have followed his career...a little. Anyone’s first real boyfriend would hold a special spot in their heart. “I lived in Texas. I didn’t have much choice but to follow you and everyone else I knew from bull riding.”

  “Good recovery.” He laughed, his blue eyes bright with humor. “I’d better get going. I don’t want Mama piddling in the apartment.” He unfolded himself from the chair and she stood, too.

  “It was good to visit,” she said like the Texas beauty queen she’d been.

  “Same here.” He didn’t move and his gaze remained on her.

  Clover’s breath quickened just a little. That old flush of heat and desire worked its way through her. How could this be, more than ten years after that summer? Danny smiled slowly as he put out his hand to shake hers. She grasped it, exquisitely aware of the calluses scraping her palm, making her stomach dance with desire. She pulled her arm a little toward herself, feeling the passion that simmered between them. Danny didn’t hesitate but stepped into her, keeping their hands firmly clasped and placing his mouth over hers. Her neck arched and her lips eagerly sought his.

  Chapter Four

  Cotton candy and popcorn. Clover. The taste of her hadn’t changed, taking him back to that summer. The heat and passion, the fear and uncertainty. His hand moved along her familiar and new curves. Every one of them fit into his palm just right, despite the frequent numbness that made the grip in his right hand uncertain. He took one more deep taste of her, then pulled away.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said, turning and walking down the hill toward his apartment, where he’d find beer in the fridge and a dog waiting for him.

  “Danny Leigh,” Clover yelled at him, losing her beauty-queen coolness. “Sticking your tongue down my throat doesn’t change anything.”

  He waved his arm at her without turning.

  “Way to go, Mayor,” a man standing in his front garden said, giving Danny a thumbs-up.

  Danny hadn’t meant to kiss Clover. Maybe it was the past sneaking up on him. That was happening a lot since she’d come to town. Even when his friend and riding buddy AJ McCreary had moved to town, Danny’s time on the back of a bull had felt far away. He’d been able to put all of that behind him. Between being mayor, rehabbing houses and doing handyman work, he’d been content. He’d been busy—too busy to worry that he didn’t have much of a social life. Who needed that when he was so industrious, just like a worker bee. The ladies would always be there, he told himself.

  Even better—with his sister Jessie and her husband, Payson, having produced the first grandchild, he was under less pressure to settle down. He could take his time and help his town be its best. Pepper and AJ had started changing Angel Crossing for the better with their community garden and farmers’ market. Stylish and affordable housing like he planned would encourage new residents to give the town a try.

  Danny walked up the stairs to his small apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t find a mess. He ran through people who might want a dog and puppies. He was coming up with a zero. Mama wasn’t really big enough to be much of a threat to wild animals or intruders but was too big to be a lapdog. She was an awkward size and who knew what the puppies were.

  Mama waddled to him as soon as he got in the door. The apartment looked as neat as it ever did. He put a blanket over her to hide what he was carrying in case someone squealed to his landlord. He carried the wiggling animal down the stairs and through the back lot, past the restaurant’s Dumpster. Once they reached a patch of low scrub, he put her down. The grass nearly hid her and her rhinestone collar and leash. She sniffed and quickly got down to business. He’d brought along a bag and would throw away what he had to in the Dumpster. She sat down, tired out from the very short walk. She couldn’t be too long from delivery, he thought. He vaguely recollected one of their dogs having puppies as a kid, but he only remembered how cute they were, not the lead up or the process of them being born. He’d call his folks for advice. Maybe they would want a dog to go with them on their travels. Plus, they had a ton of friends. One or more of them might want a puppy.

  He carried the dog back to the apartment, where he fed her and gave her clean water. Then he dialed his parents and left a message.

  He took a beer from his fridge and sat in his tiny living room with his laptop open and the TV on the Bull Riding Network. He rubbed at his numb fingers, the ones the doctor told him might regain feeling or not. Sometimes he was sure they were better. Then he’d go to pick up a glass and drop it. Still, he’d retired. He’d refused to regret that it had been an “injury” that took him out, not that he’d told anyone that. When he’d said he was retiring because he wanted to go out on top, none of his friends had questioned him.

  “Friends in Low Places” sang out from his phone. It was an old riding buddy who was watching the same competition on TV. They were both sitting this one out—Danny because he was retired and Frank because he’d reinjured his foot. Danny was on beer three when the
y said goodbye. He considered going to bed and taking Mama out for her final potty break before the long night. Maybe one more beer then bed? Good idea.

  He finished his longneck and went to get himself another, liking this slightly floating feeling. He was completely relaxed, not worrying about the dog—who really needed a new name—about his town or about Clover. Dang it. Her taste and curves popped back into his mind, and he tried to focus on the TV.

  By the time the contest and another beer were done, he was ready for bed. First he’d take the dog out one last time. He didn’t want any accidents. Dang, it was a pain having a dog in a second-floor apartment. Fortunately, because it was dark and late, he didn’t need to bundle her up and carry her down the stairs. He could lead her with her sparkly leash. He went down the steps, the floating feeling continuing as he stumbled over a stone or two. Definitely time for this cowboy to hit the hay. Mama did her business fast. Danny started back to the apartment.

  He got to the bottom of the stairs and Mama scrabbled toward the top, pulling on the leash. Danny meant to let go but his numb fingers didn’t work as well as they should and she jerked on his arm as he stepped up, pulling him off balance. Danny face-planted on the stairs and saw stars. He cursed as the dog darted to the top and barked at him.

  He lay sprawled on the stairs, glad no one was nearby. He needed to catch his breath and check for damage. Not much. More pride than anything. He pushed himself up and Mama barked.

  “Jutht a minute.” What the hell? He used his tongue to explore the hole at the front of his mouth. Son of a— The fall had knocked out the fake tooth he’d gotten as a kid after a spectacular crash on his minibike. Great. Nothing he could do tonight. He walked slowly up the stairs, the pain from the fall and the throbbing in his mouth telling him tomorrow morning would not be fun. Hell. He was a bull rider. Retired bull rider. Still, he’d lived through worse.

  “Inthide, Mama,” he said and opened the door. She scooted past him and sat on the floor, fluffy tail wagging, waiting for her treat and the leash to come off. “Proud of yourthelf?” The dog barked. Wait till she had to eat generic food because he had to spend all of his money on a new tooth.

  Maybe Clover would buy some of the expensive brand she’d bought at Lem’s—but, no, he wasn’t asking her for anything. They’d been a summer-lovin’ teen thing. They were adults and she’d already messed with his plans, just like she had that summer. He wasn’t getting stupid over her again. He’d learned a lot since their time together. He wouldn’t be showing her exactly what he’d learned, though. At best they were Angel Crossing–style neighbors. At worst, they were businesspeople on opposite sides of the fence.

  He gave Mama a treat, took an aspirin and lay down in his sagging bed that nearly filled the room. He really needed to move. As soon as he got more properties sold and had a little cash, he’d find his own place and redo it the way he wanted. What he had now was good enough. The bed dipped under Mama’s weight and she dug at the covers as he moved his legs to accommodate her. He shouldn’t let her on the bed, but he was too tired to make her get down.

  “Don’t have puppyth,” he told her as he settled into his pillow, “pleathe.”

  She sighed deeply and scooted to take up more of the bed.

  * * *

  CLOVER USED HER confident pageant walk to get her across the threshold and into Jim’s Tavern, the only bar in town. She wanted to check it out and determine if it was the kind of kitschy business that would appeal to the Rico Pueblo clientele. Her father had said he’d prefer buying up everything and starting over. Clover, however, had outlined an approach that would purchase properties and work with current business owners so VCW could best leverage its investment—that was what she’d told her father, anyway.

  Few patrons glanced Clover’s way. Instead, they were glued to the stage and the two women laughing their way through a country duet. Neither could sing but they didn’t care. The crowd was with them, laughing along and clapping. Actually, most of the crowd was women... Not most. All of the patrons were women and there was a woman behind the bar. Now, this was interesting. Not what Clover had expected. That seemed to be the case again and again in Angel Crossing.

  “Whoa! Clover,” said the tall light-haired woman with the karaoke microphone in her hand. “Come up here. You can sing a lot better than us. Sing that song you did when you were named Miss Steer Princess? ‘God Bless the USA.’”

  Clover looked harder at the cowgirl who was motioning her forward and the short dark-haired woman beside her. Danny’s sisters. The two women had been on the road with their brother back when Clover had been the princess. She’d had an okay voice because her mother insisted she take lessons.

  Lavonda chimed in, “Or you could sing ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

  She’d sung that song during a rain delay at a rodeo. Of course Lavonda would remember that. Clover didn’t want to humiliate herself but she could go along with the suggestion to get a few brownie points from the women of Angel Crossing. She’d need allies. Clover walked with purpose and grace to the open area set aside for the singing.

  “Whoop, whoop,” Jessie said. “This’ll be a treat.”

  “Anything’s better than the two of you,” a woman heckled. Jessie and Lavonda laughed.

  Clover smiled at the audience of women. They actually looked friendly.

  “We cued up the song,” Lavonda said, her dark eyes and hair so different from her light-haired older sister’s. “Good to see you again.” Then the smaller woman leaned forward and whispered quietly, “Heard you’ve been visiting with Danny. What’s that about, huh?”

  Clover just smiled. The speed at which gossip zipped through a small town shouldn’t be a surprise. Who needed newspapers or TV when there was such an efficient way to pass along information?

  Jessie and Lavonda went back to their bar stools, and Clover sang. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to perform. She hammed it up for the audience and got talked into singing another two songs before giving up the mic. She was parched. The Leigh sisters motioned for her to join them. She wanted to say no, but there was no polite way to bow out. Plus, the two of them might give her more insight into the town and what the mayor had planned.

  “What do you want? We’re buying,” Lavonda said. Jessie stayed silent. She’d always been the quiet one.

  “A beer.”

  “Anita, a beer for the best performer of the night.”

  Jessie took a drink. “You in town to buy it?”

  “Something like that,” Clover said. There was no use lying. Everyone had heard about her buying the warehouses at the end of Miner’s Gulch, plus other properties. When Rico Pueblo opened, she would rename the street Torro Boulevard.

  “My husband, Jones, and I are curious about your plans,” Lavonda said with a pleasant smile. “We own a guide company and more people visiting here would certainly be great for our finances. But this area is ecologically fragile. There are archaeological sites nearby that need to be protected, too.”

  Clover hadn’t known about any sites. There hadn’t been any noted on any of the surveys or maps. “There are?” she asked noncommittally.

  “Jones has been exploring. He’s an archaeologist.”

  Clover nodded, waiting for more from Lavonda.

  “Talk about that another time,” Jessie said. “I want to hear what Clover’s been up to, besides being a business mogul.”

  Clover tried to understand what Jessie was really asking and decided to take her at face value. She gave them the short version. “What about you?” she asked Jessie when she’d finished her short bio. “Still riding, even with the baby?”

  “Not the trick riding,” Jessie said. “Gave that up, but I have a therapeutic horse-riding program for youngsters. Kids with physical and emotional challenges.”

  Lavonda added, “Don’t get her started on Gertie
. We’re out so that she can live it up and act like a normal human being.”

  Jessie gave her sister a dirty look, the kind of sibling communication Clover always wanted to have with Knox and didn’t.

  Lavonda said, “This is the first time Jessie has gone out on her own since Gertie made her grand entrance. That girl already has the flair for the dramatic.”

  “She does?”

  “Yes,” Lavonda said, shushing her sister. “Jessie’s husband is a pediatric surgeon, operated on thousands of kids, probably. When Gertie made her appearance at their ranch—Jessie kept saying the pain wasn’t bad enough to go to the hospital—he fainted. Smacked down on the floor. The three of them shared an ambulance.”

  “Stop telling that story. That’s not the way it happened,” Jessie said. “Payson didn’t faint. He tripped.”

  “He tripped because he was faint.”

  “Faint because he hadn’t eaten or slept.”

  The sisters bantered back and forth for a few minutes before returning to their interrogation.

  “Bet you were surprised that Danny is mayor, huh?” Lavonda asked.

  “He was a popular rider,” Clover said flatly.

  “Popular with you,” Jessie mumbled, sounding suddenly unfriendly.

  “We were very young.”

  “You’re older by a couple of years, aren’t you?” Jessie asked without a hint of humor.

  “I don’t remember,” Clover lied.

  “Really?” Jessie’s sage-green gaze locked on to Clover. “Never knew a woman who forgot her first—”