“The tour runs through mid-October,” Boone said quickly, his shoulders sagging a little in what looked like relief.
Piper watched him. His eyes looked tight. No ready smile for her. No hand in her hair or finger brushing along her cheek.
“And then what?” She continued on because clearly he wasn’t going to do any of the work for her. “What do you do after the tour? I know the finals are in January. But what do you do November and December? February through early May.”
“Mainly I help out at my family’s ranch,” Boone said cautiously. “My dad’s raised cattle as did his dad and his dad before him and on and on. And my mom has bred horses—cutting horses for the rodeo. But my dad wants to expand the business—move into breeding bucking broncs and bulls for the rodeos. Become a rodeo stock contractor.”
That sounded good to Piper. Grounded. Some travel. Still having involvement in the rodeo, the life he loved. And it was the first concrete mention of his family. So he did have a relationship with them. Her heart leapt in hope.
“But?”
“Why’s there got to be a but?” Boone reached behind him into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed one to Piper and uncapped his with his teeth, spit out the cap and took a long swallow.
Piper watched his throat work, and even though she felt like her heart was breaking, she couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was. And marvel at how deeply she’d come to love him. She didn’t want to hurt. And she didn’t want to hurt him, but Piper was tired of drifting with the current.
She needed to put her feet down. Push for what she wanted.
“I sense a but. Don’t you enjoy helping your family on the ranch?”
“What? No.” He paused. “I love it.” The words seemed dragged from his soul thrashing and kicking.
“So…what? You always seem reluctant to talk about your family or your ranch. And you didn’t really mention them this summer. Visit them.” She had to say it. Ranches took a lot of work.
Boone shrugged. Took another swallow of water and wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “It’s not that, Piper. I love my family. I love the ranch. It’s just that it’s…it’s theirs.”
She turned that over in her mind. “You don’t feel like you belong?” she asked cautiously finally feeling he was giving her something to work with.
“I belong too well.” He smiled without humor. “I’m my father’s youngest son. Everyone knows me in connection to my parents and my siblings. Everything I have is from my father’s hard work. It’s been his family’s ranch for generations, but his dad struggled, nearly lost it. My dad rescued the ranch with all of his rodeo earnings. All his hard-earned money. He met my mom on the tour, married her and brought her home and together they built up the ranch. They’re still building up the ranch but it’s theirs. In their image. Sure they want me to come home and work it with them, because I’m their son.”
“And you don’t want to be a rancher?”
He stared intensely out the window. She didn’t think he would answer.
“Part of me wants that. I do. I love the land and the life. Being outdoors all day allows me to breathe. But it’s theirs. I haven’t made my own mark. I’m not bringing anything to the ranch but my name.”
Piper stroked his arm down to his hand on the steering wheel and placed hers over his as he drove. She knew how proud Boone was. How independent, so she understood his feelings a little, but being part of a family legacy seemed like heaven, a no-brainer, a place to belong and to build dreams.
“Have you told them that?”
He looked startled. “No. They’re all about family. The ranch and building a family legacy. Family is everything. If you’re family, you have a place. They wouldn’t understand.”
He blew out a gust of air. “You’re good with words, Piper. You put everyone at ease. Explain things well. I’m more action. My thinking gets scrambled.”
“You’re doing just fine,” she assured him. “It’s important to try. And if it takes a few times, then people just have to be patient.”
Piper hated that she’d left it this long. She should have been trying to get Boone to open up more much earlier. Learn to trust her. Instead she’d let him dictate so much of the relationship.
“Is that why you work so hard on the rodeo? To make your own mark? To earn enough to buy your own property?”
“I don’t know about that.” Boone looked embarrassed. “My dad was fearless and one of the best bareback riders on the circuit. Top bull rider too. My stats aren’t anywhere near his. My earnings aren’t even comparatively close. By my age my dad was married, and my mom was expecting my brother Rohan. He was one year from retirement. He was a legend. I’m just good. Dumb enough to keep doing it.”
Piper bit back the instant denials and replies that tangled on her tongue and instead let herself think. She thought of Boone as so confident. She never imagined he was harboring self-doubt.
“When do you see yourself retiring?”
“Haven’t given it much thought.”
“And what would you like to do after the rodeo? You must have given that some thought.”
“Not really. Just focus rodeo to rodeo.”
Piper tried not to look too astonished. She thought out everything. Over and over. Planned. Anticipated. Calculated.
Boone had been her one impulse.
Sure she’d made mistakes, but she’d cut her losses and moved on. Boone just seemed adrift.
“But if you don’t want to work on your parents’ ranch…surely you must have some idea of what you want to do? School or…”
He shook his head no. “I didn’t do well in school. Had trouble sitting still and listening that long. And something was wrong. I didn’t learn to read for a long time. My parents spent a fortune on tutors.”
“There’s lots of other things you could do.”
“I love ranching,” Boone said. “What about you? What do you want?”
“I want a home,” Piper said. And it was like a cork popped. “I want a town that’s small but friendly, and where I know people and they know me, and I want a job that I like where I feel like I can make a difference.” She started listing her wants on her fingers.
“That’s why I chose massage. It’s technical and in a health care field but flexible, and I can work for myself anywhere but also in a clinical or spa setting. I can help people feel good and teach them about healthier lifestyles and caring for themselves. But I want more. I want to go to a coffee shop where I know the barista and the owner. I want to know their kids. I want them to know my order. And I want a go-to restaurant where I have a favorite dish and I can chat with the wait staff and owners. I want friends and a family and a man who loves me and who I love back just as fiercely.”
Boone stared at her, his eyes huge. Then he forcefully looked back at the road.
“That sounds good, Piper.” He sounded like he was choking. He drained his water.
He drove longer, the road unfurling behind them, and Piper felt like they were driving into the night. Into the dark.
But I’ll find the light again.
She had to be prepared for this. Boone was worth the risk, but how could they have a future when he couldn’t even see past tomorrow? Could she help him? Did it just take time? Patience?
“Sounds real good. You deserve it. All of it. Really.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
Piper saw the silhouette of the grandstand, and was surprised at how quickly they’d gotten back to town using a different route. He drove the truck carefully thorough the field toward his trailer. Many more trailers and some tents were set up. Some cowboys looked to be camping out in their trucks, and there were some small trailers, lights on, generators humming.
Boone stopped the car and played with his keys, then he turned toward her.
“I want all of that for you. I know what it means to you. You told me how lonely you felt growing up. You told me your mother left when you were a to
ddler and that you were never close to your dad.” He looked pained for her. “I’m sorry, Piper, I’m just not there yet. I wish I could be for you, but I have to be my own man first before I can be someone else’s man—someone they can love and depend on through thick and thin.”
Piper felt her eyes prick but she forced back the tears and searched his dear features. Boone didn’t see himself at all how she saw him. He was that man.
She brought his hand to her cheek. Kissed his palm and closed his fingers one by one. He pressed his hand against his chest. It was a sweet gesture. He’d done it with her before, showing her he held her heart, that he’d take care of it even though he’d never used the words.
“All of those things will come to you, Piper. I know they will.”
“But how can you know it’s not you and that you’re not ready if you don’t know what it is you want, what you’re searching for?”
He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, so softly and sweetly that a couple of traitorous tears splashed his knuckle. He tasted them.
“Don’t cry, baby. Be happy. We have now. That may be all we ever get and it’s good. Better than good.”
She nodded. It was true. She’d been around the rodeo long enough to know that one misstep could spell disaster. And from her own life one biological or genetic fluke could spell life for one baby, but death for another. And that not all marriages survived loss. And along with illness, accidents and betrayal, life was a crapshoot, and she couldn’t control the roll of the dice any more than Boone could.
But she wanted to try with him.
“Let’s get you in bed. I’ll clean up and then check on Sundance before I join you.”
“I’ll clean up. You have an early start tomorrow.”
Boone pressed his thumb into her bottom lip and looked at her, his expression unusually pensive. “I’ll take care of everything,” he said helping her to slide out of the truck. He handed her his keys. “It will give me a chance to clear my head for tomorrow.”
Piper nodded and went into the trailer and to bed alone.
Chapter Nine
Saturday morning, Piper finished with a client, taking her time even though she sensed she was running late. While she loved that her traveling business was growing a little each weekend and the cowboys always tipped great, she worried she’d miss one of Boone’s events. The bareback competition always kicked off the rodeo lineups, so who needed caffeine to get the day going?
Piper shrugged out of her white wrap cotton coat that she felt made her look more professional and hung it up, and she quickly stripped the sheet on the bed and wiped down her massage chair and table and then remade the table with fresh linens. That was the hardest thing about being a traveling masseuse—the laundry. Boone never complained, but having to stop for a few hours to wash the bedding before heading out of or into the next town felt like a ginormous bore to her, and it was for her business. But Boone happily joined her at the laundry each time, and then he’d keep her company often, maintaining his ropes while they waited.
She used her wipes to clean her hands as well, and then checked her watch. Definitely late. Boone had drawn a bronc named Hellfire. His bull this afternoon was Deviant Devil. Nothing scary about those names. Piper tried to shrug off her worry.
She was still processing last night. He’d basically told her he wasn’t ready for commitment, but wanted them to stay together until October. What would another month change? Would Amanda still have the massage room available? Should she put a deposit down or pay a month’s rent to hold it? The questions had turned round and around in her head as she’d tried to sleep.
She could tell she meant more to Boone than just fun and good sex. She knew she did. She could tell it with everything he did even if he seemed to be shutting her out this weekend. When he’d come into the trailer about an hour later last night, he’d been quiet. He’d taken a shower and slipped into bed while Piper pretended to sleep. He’d gently kissed her and curled his body around hers, and Piper had finally relaxed enough to doze off.
This morning, everything had seemed normal between them and Piper had played along, not wanting him distracted for today. She’d fixed him a light, nutritious breakfast and kissed him goodbye saying she’d see him later—like he wasn’t heading off into danger.
She hurried to the grandstand just as she heard the announcer call out the rider before Boone. She didn’t have time to climb up and find a seat so instead she tucked down low next to a few children and smiled at them, feeling a little like a conspirator.
Slide of metal and out thrashed the horse. Up and down and a spin and the rider was off before the five-second mark. Piper bit back a cry of worry, but the cowboy popped up and ruefully watched the horse race off, tossing its head a little arrogantly as if to say ‘I dealt with that arrogant idiot.’
And Boone was next. Piper saw him up on top of the chute talking to a man she’d seen him with several times yesterday—older and dark, but with a wide smile and dimples. He looked like he was laughing, but Boone looked serious, intent. He dropped down onto the back of the restless bronc, and Piper felt her heart kick up a notch.
It was crazy what Boone did. And exciting. Sometimes, Boone would give the nod right away to release the bronc. Other times it took a spell, which always ratcheted up the tension. Today, Piper ticked off the seconds in her head. Boone was clearly working on his grip or trying to get balanced. She so wanted him to have a good ride.
“Let’s give a warm welcome to our hometown cowboy—Boone Telford, everyone,” the announcer called out.
Piper had been clasping her hands, praying, but she jerked her head up to look toward the announcer. She must have misheard. “Y’all know Boone. He’s been a fixture on the Montana rodeo scene since he was a little tow-head hanging on for dear life on his first mutton bust.” A lot of people were standing and cheering. Piper saw a few signs.
“We’ve seen Boone ride and rope since he was in the junior rodeo circuit. Having his best year yet. So let’s give him a proper Marietta shout-out.”
No way.
Impossible.
It was a mistake.
Boone would have told her he was from Marietta.
He wouldn’t have let her read all about the town on the website like that.
He wouldn’t have let her go on and on about the town and how cute it was, and how she felt at home here when he was the one who was home.
The announcer read a few stats, even told a joke or two while Piper stared numbly at a beautiful blonde woman and a younger version of her holding up a sign with a picture of Boone. Piper recognized the young woman she’d seen briefly yesterday as the singer of “America the Beautiful” from the grand reopening. They were in the family section with another couple and a tween girl who had another Boone sign up.
Piper had never sat in the family section.
And she hadn’t been invited today to sit with his real family.
The chute opened and Boone, nearly horizontal to the bronc, burst out. His left hand was stretched out high as the bronc bucked, swinging its body sideways before slamming up and down. Boone kept his body loose and nimble anticipating the moves before they happened, but it still astonished Piper how Boone held on. How any of them held on to such a wicked force of physics.
She laughed a guttural ‘ha’ as if to see if she could still speak.
She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. Naïve.
Great sex wasn’t love.
And Boone definitely didn’t love her. And another month wouldn’t make a difference.
Eight seconds. The audience roared their approval. Piper clutched the fence like she was going to fall and stared, still in total shock. The cheers, the dirt, the smell of sawdust, hotdogs and popcorn and animal all just floated around in some other world she wasn’t a part of.
She’d been lying to herself as clearly as Boone had been lying. Well he hadn’t lied, she admitted. He just hadn’t told her the truth or let her in. He hadn’t o
ffered her more. And he hadn’t said he loved her. So really the only true deception was the one once again she was practicing on herself—if she tried hard enough, if she were pretty enough, smart enough, helpful enough, cheerful enough—someone would love her.
Only Boone didn’t.
Boone was pulled safely off the bronc and now stood tall and proud on the arena floor. He tipped his hat to the crowd—probably looking for his family and their all-important approval.
She walked away from the place where she knew she didn’t belong.
*
Where was Piper?
Boone looked toward the section where she’d usually sat in every arena—to the left near an exit. She was so slim it was always easy for her to squeeze herself into a seat. She never missed any of his rides. He didn’t see her anywhere. He saw his mom and sister Riley, and sister-in-law Miranda and brother, Witt and Petal cheering. His dad had been with him at the chute. But no Piper.
He hopped over the fence to the backstage area. He already had Sundance ready because he had a quick change-out for the next event: steer wrestling. He’d been a late draw for the bronc and early for the steer wrestling. But he felt edgy and couldn’t settle without seeing Piper. She always watched his events. Always. And after their talk last night, he felt like they were more settled. They’d cleared the air. Mostly.
Instead his dad walked toward him.
“Textbook. Ride of beauty,” his dad enthused and slapped him on the back. “Eighty-five definitely puts you high on the list for the short event. Well done.”
“Thanks,” Boone said. When he’d been growing up he’d always counted on praise and advice from his dad—lapped it up like a plant needing water. But not now.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait. What? You can’t walk out,” his dad said. “You’re in the next event. You have to check in or they’ll scratch your ass.”
Cowboy Come Home Page 10
