Reunited with the Bull Rider

by Christine Wenger

  “I’ll bet you worked hard, Callie.”

  “I worked two jobs.”

  “And then you had enough money to buy a house, so you could stay put, huh?”

  She smiled. “We don’t have to move anymore, Reed. Never.”

  “Good for you.”

  She smiled. “And I just love my house. It makes me feel all warm and happy. It’s mine, and no one can take it away from me.”

  They sat in silence for a while, eating their ice cream. Callie seemed lost in thought, probably thinking of what she’d sacrificed to buy a house at a young age. But if anyone could do it, it would be Callie, valedictorian of their graduating class some ten years ago.

  Callie finished her ice cream, drank her plastic cup of water, and threw it in the trash can. Reed ate the last bit of his cone.

  She checked her watch. “I think I should take you home. It’s been a long day and you should put your feet up.”

  “Good idea.” He hated to leave her when they were having a good conversation, but she was right. His knee was throbbing.

  They got into Callie’s red-pink sun-bleached SUV and she drove to his ranch.

  “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  “No. I’m pooped.”

  “I hear you.” He pulled the keys to the front door from his pocket. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be working.”

  “See you tomorrow, then. Sweet dreams.”

  Her green eyes sparkled in the light of the full moon filtering into her car. Her lips were full and ready to be kissed.

  He stretched his arm out on the back of the seat. It would take one move to wrap it around Callie and pull her close to him. He wanted to kiss her, but his gut told him that his kiss wouldn’t be welcome.

  Not yet anyway.

  Reed wasn’t going to let Callie go this time. She filled the empty space that was ten years of his life. Sure, he loved to ride bulls, but something had been missing. Roots. He loved the ranch, and never realized how much so until he’d almost lost it.

  And tangled in those roots was Callie Wainright.

  * * *

  CALLIE’S HEART POUNDED as she drove home. She’d thought Reed was going to kiss her. Would she have let him?

  It was a moot point now, but she wondered how she would have reacted.

  She just didn’t know.

  Pulling into the driveway, she paused to look at her house. It was an old, beige Victorian. Callie and her brothers had painted the gingerbread trim in shades of peach, lavender, pink and yellow.

  It was a proud old house, and she was proud of it. Standing tall on the corner of Main Street and Elm, there was almost an acre surrounding it.

  She and her brothers had become quite good at carpentry, plumbing and painting. She loved to decorate the Victorian and, since she just loved lace, she’d hung lace curtains, positioned lace doilies and covered tables with lace tablecloths.

  Unlike Callie and her mother, her brothers weren’t that thrilled with the decor, but they could decorate their rooms however they wanted.

  She entered through the side mudroom that led to the cutest retro kitchen that could grace the pages of any magazine.

  Callie found her brothers and mother sitting in the living room, talking. She liked the times when they had lively conversations. But when she entered, the room became silent.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “We were talking about you, Callie,” her mother said. “We should have waited for you, so you wouldn’t think we were talking behind your back, but your brothers are worried about you.”

  “Why?”

  Her mother smiled thinly. “Because they were afraid that Reed was going to hurt you. However, after talking with him, they think that he’s okay.”

  “Joe... John...you talked to Reed? What on earth did you say to him?”

  “We told him not to hurt you,” Joe said as John nodded. “Or he’ll have to answer to us.”

  “What?” Callie sank into an armchair.

  “We didn’t tell him about your other serious fiancés who’d hurt you, but he got the message and our warning,” John said as Joe nodded.

  They gave each other a high-five and Callie wanted to scream. It was strange to have her brothers making sure she was okay, instead of the other way around, but she could take care of herself.

  Actually, they weren’t taking care of her, they were interfering.

  “You know, you both were only seven years old when Reed and I went out. We dated from about March until August when he left to ride in the PBR.”

  That was the best time of her life, when they were inseparable and in love. They’d known each other since kindergarten, so that had meant forever in her book.

  “Callie? Hey, Callie?” As if from a distance, she heard John’s voice.

  “Sorry.” Blinking, she returned to reality. “I guess I’m kind of tired, but I want you all to remember that I am twenty-eight years old. I don’t need the Touchdown Twins or the Homerun Twins or the Three-Point Twins to defend me. And, Mom, please don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Of course, Callie. Of course. It’s just that—”

  “I know. My past history with men leaves a lot to be desired.” She gave her mother a hug and waved to the twins. “Good night, everyone.”

  She changed into a comfortable nightshirt and flopped into bed. She was tired and she couldn’t quiet her thoughts.

  Thoughts of Reed Beaumont.

  * * *

  WHEN CALLIE ARRIVED at the ranch early the next morning, the door was unlocked.

  She cautiously went in. “Reed? Reed, it’s Callie.”

  There was no answer, so she assumed he was out doing something around the ranch. She put her travel mug of coffee on a side table in the office and immediately sat on the floor to do more sorting of the piles she’d left yesterday.

  After everything was sorted by year and month, she planned to develop more spreadsheets as needed and entering data. She already had headers and columns in mind...

  Much to her dismay, she found herself constantly waiting for Reed to come in from outside. She’d been with him most of yesterday, and he was on her mind when she went to sleep last night, and again the first thing this morning.

  She thought about how they made love at their favorite spot, on a blanket alongside the Beaumont River in high school. With a copse of trees that hid them from view, it was the perfect, intimate spot.

  They were awkward at first, a mess of fumbling fingers and diverted eyes, until they figured out that it was about making love, and not about sex.

  Finally, Reed walked past the arched doorway between the office and the kitchen, but he was coming from the direction of the bedrooms, and not from outside.

  Callie watched quietly in the archway as he filled a glass coffeepot with water. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He was shirtless, and she could see every muscle and scar on his body—scars from bull riding. When he walked, his muscles bunched and relaxed.

  He rubbed his chest and gave a major yawn to wash away the sleep. He said one word. “Coffee.”

  “I’ll share my Thermos with you,” she said.

  He dropped his crutches and they clanged on the stone floor of the kitchen. “What the hell?”

  “Reed, it’s Callie.” She walked into the kitchen. “I let myself in because the door was unlocked. Luke gave me a key, but I didn’t need it this morning.”

  “Callie.” He raked his fingers through his hair with his riding arm. She could see the hard muscles and sinew. “Why are you here so early?”

  “Early? It’s seven in the morning.”

  Okay, it was early to any other human, but not her. She would have been here earlier, but she’d made
pancakes for the twins and her mother and left them warming in the oven.

  She wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It was fun to tease Reed when he was half-asleep and disheveled.

  “You have coffee?” he asked hopefully.

  “Coconut caramel with hazelnut creamer.”

  “That’s not coffee. That’s a candy bar!” He rolled his shoulders. More muscles. “I’ll make my coffee. Then I’ll go for a jog. It’ll be ready when I get back.”

  She watched as he poured scoop after scoop of beans into a coffee filter, which he then set into the drip coffee maker and then added water.

  “That’s going to be strong coffee.” She stated the obvious.

  “It’s cowboy coffee. If a horseshoe floats on the top, it’s perfect.”

  “Seems like I’ve heard that before.”

  She returned to the office and remembered what she’d thought of last night: the first time they’d made love. She really had to stop thinking of Reed in that way. It was their history, but not their future. Not anymore.

  She heard him crutch in several minutes later. She was waiting for him to realize that he couldn’t jog.

  “I can’t jog. What was I thinking?” he said, scratching his head. “I’m so not a morning person. It takes a while for my brain to start working. When I was younger, my father didn’t want to hear it. The stock had to be fed, the stalls needed to be mucked, and there was always fence that needed fixing. I was always busy and, when I wasn’t, Big Dan always had a list of things waiting for me and my brothers to do.”

  “And I am definitely a morning person. I love mornings. Everything is so fresh and clean. The sun is coming up and another day is shiny and new. It’s like a clean slate.”

  Reed nodded. “The night for me is full of excitement and adventure. The PBR events are mostly at night—at seven or eight o’clock—and I wait all day. I hit the gym then I go to the event center. I wait for the smell of popcorn, wait for the arena to fill, wait for the excitement to build.”

  “That’s how I feel when I’m working with a client, minus the popcorn and minus the arena, but I do get excited. No two jobs are the same.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Callie, have you had breakfast yet?”

  “No, I haven’t. I made pancakes for my family, but I don’t like pancakes. How about bacon and eggs? I know how to cook now, thanks to What’s in Your Refrigerator?”

  “Absolutely not. I am supposed to make sure that you are off your feet as much as possible. So, get dressed, sit down and put your feet up.”

  “Shower?”

  “Go ahead,” Callie said. “By the time you are done, I’ll have breakfast ready.”

  As she opened the refrigerator, she thought about his sparkling eyes and winning smile. The gestures made him appealing, but she realized he had another plan and she’d fallen right into his trap: she was making breakfast for him.

  As she pulled out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon, Callie could insist that cooking for Reed wasn’t in her job description, though maybe it was. She was assisting Reed due to his injury and at the request of his brother.

  Right now, it didn’t matter.

  She was enjoying cooking for Reed and looking after him.

  Callie could imagine that this grand ranch was Reed’s and hers, and she was making breakfast for their children. She looked at the eggs. Yes! A half dozen kids, maybe more.

  But she’d have to find someone who had the same dream as hers. Someone who wanted to live in Beaumont full-time, not someone who was absent more than he was present.

  Callie’s father rarely came home, and she remembered how she tried not to get too happy because she knew he’d be leaving again soon.

  The tension between her parents was obvious as Melvin and Connie Wainright were trying to negotiate a divorce settlement. Her father had wanted to be with Tish Holcomb, cougar, in Tahiti, more than he wanted to be a father to her and the twins.

  She peeled off six strips of bacon and laid them in a large cast-iron pan to fry. Inez had a collection of pots and pans in various sizes. “I don’t use that fancy stuff,” she’d always say when a commercial for cookware came on.

  Callie hummed as she set the table, and she never hummed!

  But it was that kind of a day. Opening the windows, the breeze from outside mixed the aroma of coffee with that of the bacon cooking. The curtains fluttered in the breeze.

  If she lived here, Callie would change the curtains from cotton to lace. She’d also lighten up the decor; maybe she’d start with a light oak table instead of the dark mahogany.

  She was getting a little crazy.

  She hurried back to the stove and flipped the bacon. Just then, Reed entered the room.

  “Smells delicious. Coffee and bacon and eggs.” He rubbed his muscled chest and she noticed how he filled out his shirt that the material of his chambray shirt didn’t have one crease mark.

  He wore a perfectly faded pair of jeans held up by a brown braided leather belt with a silver belt buckle the size of Rhode Island. His boots were shined to within an inch of their crocodile life.

  “Have a seat, Reed. Breakfast is almost ready.”

  He unfurled a newspaper she’d put on the table earlier, began reading and asked her a question about politics. She was ready to quip, “I don’t discuss politics at the table,” but then realized she could have a lively, intelligent conversation with him. And that’s just what happened. She enjoyed sparring with him, and sometimes she might play devil’s advocate, just to get a rise out of him.

  Callie poured the dark, rich coffee into thick turquoise pottery mugs and found creamer in the fridge. She was sure she’d need to lighten up her coffee so the proverbial horseshoe would sink.

  She set the mugs on the table and went back to the stove. “How do you like your eggs, Reed?”

  “Over easy with all the slime cooked.”

  “Over easy. No slime. Got it!”

  She removed the bacon, set it on a folded paper towel to drain and popped four pieces of Italian bread into the toaster. Then she cracked two eggs into the pan.

  She put all the items that belonged to Reed on a plate, then she took a couple of slices of toast for herself.

  “Thanks so much, Callie.” He folded the paper and set it aside. “Are you joining me?”

  “I’m going to have toast and some sludge—I mean coffee. Maybe I should have my own that I brought.”

  “And miss genuine cowboy coffee?”

  She took a seat across from him and topped off the coffee with creamer. It turned about one shade lighter.

  She took a sip. “Wow!”

  “I know.” He grinned. “It’ll give you lots of energy to finish up that mess in my father’s study.”

  “It’ll give me a heart attack.”

  “Speaking of my father, I should see him,” he said.

  “You should.”

  He reluctantly nodded. “I will.”

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it? Just beautiful.”

  Read tapped his index finger on the table. “We should be out in weather like this, not stuck inside visiting Big Dan, although I would like to see him later.”

  She focused on the curtains blowing in the breeze. They were almost hypnotic.

  “Callie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you here?”

  She chuckled. “Barely. You’re right about what a beautiful day this is.”

  “Let’s go somewhere. Do something.”

  “I...don’t...think...so.” Oh, how she wanted to go play, too. But she’d never felt like this before. The job always came first. Always.

  “What do you have in mind, Reed?”

  “A picnic by the river.” His blue eyes were warm and inviting. “I remember a certain picnic. We made love for the first time. I was
as awkward as a teenager.”

  “We were teenagers, Reed. And making love with you was wonderful.” She smiled. “And you’re right. It was a day like this.”

  She remembered again how they’d first made love on a blanket on the bank of the Beaumont River. It was a bright afternoon and the sun had warmed their already heated bodies.

  It had been Reed’s first time, too, which had made it extra special. He’d said that there was no one else he’d wanted to make love with, no one other than Callie.

  They’d dropped their clothes and Callie had been embarrassed. But Reed had given her as much time as she’d needed and soon they’d been clinging to each other.

  She could still remember the gentle touch of his callused hands—hands worn from ranch work and riding practice bulls. His kisses had been sweet and then more intense. Soon enough, he was ripping into a square of foil with his teeth, muttering, “I’ve had a couple of these for a couple of years. Luke gave them to me. I hope they still work.”

  She’d watched, mesmerized and worried, as he’d unrolled the condom over his hard length.

  Then he was sliding into her, inch by inch. “I don’t want to hurt you, Callie. Let me know if—”

  She’d slanted her index finger across his lips. She remembered feeling pain, but not wanting him to stop.

  Soon they’d moved together, riding a wave of passion, until he’d stopped and waited. For what? She didn’t know.

  Then he’d shuddered and, with three more thrusts, she knew why he’d had waited. Soon, wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Reed had been a gentle and thoughtful lover, and she could remember every single detail of that afternoon as if it happened this morning.

  Even after ten years, thoughts of that afternoon would creep into her mind whenever she saw Reed or at the most unexpected times. Her face would heat and she knew that telltale pink stain on her neck and cheek would appear.

  Just like right now.

  They graduated in May, and at the end of August, Reed had left for his first PBR event and Callie had felt bereft and chilled without the warmth of his body next to hers. She’d missed talking to him, telling him her hopes and dreams, but carefully avoiding talking about her father’s gambling and carousing with other women. Women who, unlike her mother, weren’t going through chemo and shedding hair all over the house until Callie had helped her shaved it all off.