Rough Rider

by Victoria Vane

  “Probably not, but there’s always a warm-up before the headliner anyway. Worst-case scenario, we’ll catch the second half. Truth be told, I’m as interested in the company as I am the music.”

  That remark took her aback. Janice gave him a bemused look. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  He shrugged with a flash of his cocky grin. “I can talk real sweet when I want to.” His gaze roamed slowly over her. “Just give me half a chance and I’ll sweet-talk those jeans right off you. I’ve a powerful hankering to feel those mile-long legs wrapped around me.”

  Janice rolled her eyes with an exasperated huff and then pushed off the pen. “I got work to do.”

  He’d said no strings, but she wasn’t naive enough to think he’d do anything without an ulterior motive. She turned to walk away but then looked out at the arena where the queens were pairing up and filing out. For weeks she’d waited, hoping for some sign from Dirk, but now Rachel was back in the picture. Grady was right. It was past time to give up and move on.

  She was fed up with waiting. Tired of only being thought of as one of the stock hands. Sick of being alone. Maybe Grady wasn’t perfect, pretty far from it actually, but at least he was interested. He’d been good-humored about all of her prior rejections, mainly because he didn’t need her company, but now maybe she needed his.

  On a sudden impulse she spun back to him. “All right, Grady. I’ll go with you.”

  His smile widened. “I’ll come back around when my ride’s done.”

  Janice watched him swagger off with mixed feelings. He wasn’t her dream come true, but she really wanted to have some fun for a change. It’s why she’d gone to the Outlaw the night before, to have a drink or two, maybe dance a little, and just unwind, but she hadn’t even finished one drink. The last time before that had been the after-party in Casper—an even bigger disaster.

  Thinking back to the party, she recalled how embarrassed she’d been at not have anything decent to wear. Last night the rodeo queens had looked down their noses at her just like they’d done at the Plaza Hotel in Casper. She might not be in their league, but she wasn’t about to set herself up for that kind of humiliation again. Although she despised shopping with a fiery passion, she wondered what it would feel like to look like a girl for a change.

  She consulted the rodeo schedule. And then her watch. There were at least fifty bareback rides before the first section of bulls. If she left now, maybe she could find something to wear in one of the boutiques. Without giving herself a chance to rethink and back down, Janice checked the water buckets in her bull pens, grabbed her purse from her trailer, and headed over to the Frontier Village.

  * * *

  Janice was in the third shop, a high-end boutique, and growing more frustrated by the second. She stepped out of the dressing room to the three-way mirror in a brown broomstick skirt and blousy floral top. She turned one way and then the other, chewing her lip in indecision. She should have known the clothes would be expensive. She didn’t mind paying if she could make some kind of a fashion statement, but couldn’t help thinking she looked more like her mama on a church social day. She turned back to the dressing room ready to give up and just buy a new pair of Wranglers when a feminine voice stopped her.

  “You’re Janice, right?”

  She spun around to find herself face-to-face with Rachel Carson.

  “I thought that was you,” Rachel continued. “Weren’t you at the party in Casper?”

  Janice was almost too stunned to respond. “I was there,” she replied. “But not for long. I left once I knew the mischief Grady was up to.”

  “Grady Garrison?” Rachel’s expression darkened. “Mischief?” she huffed. “That’s putting it mild, don’t you think? His raunchy karaoke routine ruined the party and then he started a brawl. He’s lucky we didn’t call the cops. You aren’t seeing him, are you?”

  “No. Not exactly,” Janice replied. “But he did ask me to the concert tonight. It’s why I’m here. I was just lookin’ for something—”

  “Please tell me you’re not buying that,” Rachel said.

  Janice flushed.

  “I’m so sorry!” Rachel’s hand came over her mouth with an embarrassed laugh. “That didn’t come out right at all! I just mean the colors totally wash you out. You have such pretty hair and eyes. You should wear jewel tones. Blues and greens. It was part of my queen training you know, learning to make the most of color. Come here. Let me show you.” She grabbed Janice firmly by the elbow and steered her to another rack. “These colors would be incredible on you.” She pulled a sexy tie-dyed sundress off the rack and held it up. Her brows furrowed in a long appraising look. “Maybe this one would be better yet.” She snatched a long colorful T-shirt off another rack. “You need to showcase those long legs.”

  Janice wondered what the shirt had to do with her legs. “Would I just wear it with my jeans?”

  “No silly!” Rachel giggled. “With your boots! It’s a dress.”

  “A dress?” Janice protested. “It would barely cover my ass.”

  “And I promise the cowboys wouldn’t mind a lick! But if that bothers you, just wear some cotton leggings under it. Trust me. I know these things. I promise you won’t recognize yourself when I’m done.”

  Janice grimaced. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Rachel ignored the remark and shoved several more garments into her arms before steering Janice back into the dressing booth. “Just give these a try, will you?” She glanced down at Janice’s well-worn brown ropers. “Got some dress boots?”

  “No. Just another pair of ropers.”

  “Nothing with a bit of heel or a splash of color?”

  Janice shook her head. “Nope. Solid tan.”

  “You know they’ve got some really cool dress boots here. Let me go take a look for you while you’re putting those on. What size do you wear?”

  “Eight and a half. But I really can’t af—”

  Rachel held up a hand. “Just humor me, OK? This makeover thing is kind of a hobby of mine.”

  Janice fumed at the idea that she’d unwittingly become the rodeo queen’s charity case but entered the dressing room anyway. She barely had the brown skirt pulled off before more clothes flew over the dressing room door—a gypsy-style peasant dress, a sexy slim-fitting halter dress, and a denim miniskirt with buckskin fringe with a matching denim bustier top.

  An hour later, Janice had to reassess her entire estimation of Rachel Carson. She really wasn’t the spoiled little bitch-girl Janice had always believed her to be. Rachel seemed genuine about her desire to help. They had never run in the same circles and had never even had a true conversation before today, but Janice knew the rodeo queen had plenty of other things she could have been doing besides helping a fashion-backward stock hand pick out a dress.

  Now that Janice had seen another side of her rival, she grudgingly confessed that Rachel’s appeal ran deeper than her flawless skin. She couldn’t help liking her and understood why Dirk was so taken with her…by her. Although they’d split, there was no doubt in Janice’s mind that he truly was taken—whether he realized it yet or not.

  “You’re working the rough stock, right?” Rachel asked.

  “Yeah. I brought a few bulls.” Janice wondered where this was going.

  “Then you’ll be seeing Dirk, right?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing him eventually.”

  Rachel chewed her lip. “Do you think maybe you could give him a message for me?”

  Janice almost laughed aloud at the irony of becoming Rachel’s emissary.

  “Could you tell him I’d like us to talk? We really didn’t get much chance last night.”

  Janice bit her tongue. They were too busy “making up” to talk?

  “I’m staying at the Cheyenne Marriott.” Rachel pulled a card out
of her purse and scrawled her room number on the back, then handed it to Janice. “I’d appreciate it if you’d give this to him. We have a lot to work out, but I’m sure you know how it is with these bullheaded cowboys.” She winked.

  “Yeah. I’ve been around a few in my time,” Janice replied woodenly.

  She’d been right about Dirk and Rachel getting back together. It was past time for a reality check. Cowboys like Dirk belonged to rodeo queens like Rachel. While stock hands like Janice… Although Grady’s foul mouth and rough ways certainly didn’t qualify him as Prince Charming, Janice’s dirty jeans and callused fingers hardly gave her the makings of a fairy princess either. Grady’s goal was to make it to the top in the bull-riding world and he probably had the talent to get there. Janice’s own ambition—to join the big league of bull contractors and take her bulls to the finals—was compatible with that. It might not be a match made in heaven, but they were both focused, hardworking, and goal driven. Was she settling? Maybe, but she was pragmatic enough to accept reality.

  Janice stuffed Rachel’s card into her back pocket and left the boutique shortly after that. She carried two shopping bags, her heart hammering with a mix of excitement and guilt. Today’s shopping spree had set her back.

  Way back.

  She’d never gone hog wild like that before. The Old Gringo boots alone were almost a month’s pay. She’d have to live on saltine crackers to make up for it. She almost spun back into the store to return everything, but then took a calming breath. She’d saved a bundle by camping out in the stock trailer instead of staying at a motel. Would one selfish splurge in her whole life really hurt anything?

  When she got back to her trailer she opened the bags and boxes with trembling hands. She fondled the supple leather boots that were almost identical to the ones she’d drooled over in Cody. The denim miniskirt would certainly show them off—along with her legs. She stared at the skirt and boots with a sudden feeling of discomfort, as if she was trying to impersonate someone else. Then she recalled the look on Dirk’s face when Rachel had walked into the bar the night before.

  Just once in her life, she’d like to have that jaw-dropping effect on a guy. She supposed tonight was her chance. She imagined the look of shock that would come over Grady when he opened the door. Maybe it was worth what she’d spent after all. His expression alone would be priceless—but part of Janice still couldn’t help wishing it was on another cowboy’s face.

  * * *

  Dirk took over two hours getting back to the rodeo grounds. He’d jawed so long with Reid and Garcia that he hadn’t got back into town until they’d blocked off the streets. He’d forgotten all about the parade and had no choice but to sit and wait it out. Once he finally got back to the arena, the first events were in full swing. He’d hoped to catch Janice alone but probably wouldn’t get a chance to talk with her until tonight—he hoped over a quiet dinner.

  He still didn’t know quite what he was gonna say. What did he really want from her? He wasn’t sure of that either. There was a lot to figure out between them and opening that door suddenly seemed so hard. He’d kept his distance for so long that he wasn’t even certain what kind of reception he’d get. For the first time he could recall, Dirk felt unsure of himself.

  So he’d stalled.

  He’d first hung out with the bronc riders, watching every ride—mostly young cowboys eating dirt. Then he hung around the timed event end of the arena for the barrel racing. Once the last rider finished and the final scores were announced, he finally headed over to the bull pens. Grady was already suited up in his chaps and safety vest, occupied with his preparations. He must be one of the first draws. Dirk was one of the last. He’d hit it lucky.

  He had his chance. “Hey, Red.” He tipped his hat.

  “Hey yourself,” Janice answered mechanically and continued her routine, throwing the rope over the bull’s back and leaning down to hook it under his belly. “Haven’t seen you today.” She didn’t look up at him even though he knew she could have flanked the bull blindfolded.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t around to help you this morning. I came by early, but you’d already fed, so I went for some breakfast. I ran into an old rodeo buddy at the diner and then got stuck by all the parade roadblocks.”

  “You don’t answer to me,” Janice said, sounding irritated.

  “No, but I owed you the courtesy of an explanation,” Dirk replied. “Something wrong, Red?”

  “No. Why would you say that?”

  “I dunno.” He shrugged. “You just seem out of sorts…”

  “I’m just busy, Dirk. There’s a lotta bulls to flank and a lotta riders to spot.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. I’ll be glad to help until my ride. Do you think we can talk later? Can I maybe buy you dinner when you’re done tonight?”

  Janice stood, setting her hook against the chute, and then settling her hands on her hips.

  “What’s all this about, Dirk? You avoid me for weeks and then the minute Grady asks me out, you all of a sudden want to talk?”

  “Grady asked you out? You didn’t accept, did you?”

  “Yeah. As a matter of fact I did. He bought tickets for Chris LeDoux.”

  Grady was watching them from the platform several chutes down. Even from this distance he could detect his buddy’s scowl. He leaned in closer and dropped his voice real low. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Red?”

  “What business is it of yours?” He could almost see her bristle. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, cowboy—especially after last night. Which reminds me…I was s’posed to give you something.” She pulled a card out of her back pocket and shoved it toward him.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Rachel’s hotel and room number. She’s expecting you.” Janice picked up her rope hook and moved on to the next bull.

  He followed after her. “Please, Red.”

  Janice spun around. “If you wanted to talk to me so bad, you’ve had plenty of chances before now. Even last night—but I s’pose Rachel walking in must have been quite the distraction.”

  “This is exactly why we need to talk. There’s some things I need to explain—”

  “The look on your face last night was self-explanatory. There’s nothing more that needs saying. Grady might be a horndog, but at least he doesn’t play these head games.”

  He winced, feeling as if she’d slapped him. She had no idea who the real Grady was, or what he was really after, but if he tried to warn her off again it would just look like petty jealousy. Shit! Now what the hell could he do? He couldn’t have dinked things up any better if he’d tried.

  “Just give me a minute,” he pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Dirk. I don’t have time for this right now.”

  He had to talk to her, and swore he would, but she was in no frame of mind to listen. “Have it your way.” He spun away, grinding his teeth.

  * * *

  Feeling all too raw and vulnerable, Janice watched Dirk stalk off. Did he think she was just going to wait around on him forever? He’d had weeks to talk to her but now, the very minute she’d decided to move on, he was all of a sudden interested? No way in hell was she going to let him manipulate her like that. In all truth, Grady couldn’t hurt her if he tried, but if she gave Dirk half a chance, he’d surely break her heart.

  Chapter 8

  Dirk walked off, shaking his head as he moved down to Grady’s chute. He was coming up on Death Wish, one of the rankest and most dangerous bulls on the circuit with twenty-some outs and no rides. Grady was geared up and looking like the cat that ate the canary when Dirk stepped up to the chute.

  “So, you used Chris LeDoux to get to her?” Dirk growled.

  “Told you weeks ago I was staking my claim. Just had to figure out the right approach.”

  Grady climbed over the rail, placing his booted foot on the bull�
��s back. Death Wish gave a loud snort, jamming himself against the panel, an act that would have crushed Grady’s leg had he already been in position. He waited for the bull to settle down again before easing himself onto its back. Dirk pulled the bull rope taut and handed the tail to Grady.

  “You’re just using her, Grady, and I don’t like it.”

  Their eyes met. “I don’t give a shit what you like.” Grady jerked his hand up and down, warming the rosin and then making his wrap. “She’s mine now, Pretty Boy…” He looked up with a confident smirk. “Just like this bull right here.” Seconds later, Grady pulled his hat down low, shifted his hips forward over the rope, and gave his nod to the chute man.

  The gate flew open with Death Wish hurling himself airborne and into a spin, coming down bucking and kicking wildly, while Grady sat the bull tight as a tick. The seconds sped by while Dirk watched his buddy spurring the bull, his body still balanced and moving in perfect synchrony with the animal’s frenetic fits and sudden starts. Whatever his character flaws, there was no denying that Grady was a helluva bull rider.

  At the sound of the buzzer, he looked up, released his rope, and threw his right leg over to dismount, landing on all fours and scrambling away from the bull. He’d made the whistle on the toughest bull for a record ninety-point ride. With that performance, he’d clearly go into the short round and qualify for the finals in Las Vegas.

  * * *

  It was during Grady’s ride that Janice’s phone jolted her. Pulling it out of her pocket, she found she’d missed three calls from home. She didn’t understand how, until she recalled switching the setting to vibrate the night before at the Outlaw Saloon. She’d done it figuring she’d never hear the ring over the band and had forgotten to switch it back when she left. Her mind had been far too preoccupied.

  With a strong sense of foreboding, she walked as far as she could away from the mayhem and then hit redial. A few rings later her mother picked up. “Hey, Mama, it’s me. I saw you called. Is everything OK?”