The Bull Rider's Secret

by Marin Thomas

  Now here he was about to make a fool of himself in front of a woman he couldn’t get off his mind. He studied the bull that had been picked for the poker game— Big Ben. Brody waited for his adrenaline to kick in but his thoughts were wrapped up in Katarina Sovo.

  His attraction to Kat was inconvenient at best and his growing need to be there for Ricky was something Brody couldn’t explain and didn’t care to acknowledge.

  “Okay, cowboys, pick your seats at the poker table!”

  Brody trailed the men into the arena. Lucky him—he ended up with his back to the bull chute. He scanned the stands until he caught sight of Ricky and Kat. Ricky gave the thumbs-up sign and Kat clasped her hands beneath her chin as if praying. If Brody wasn’t careful he could get used to being fussed over.

  “Folks, let me introduce you to four ignoramuses.” The fans hooted. “We got Jeremy Rhodes from Austin.” The man waved his hat. “Pete Crosby from Boerne.” Pete fist-pumped the air. “Wade Fellerman from right here in San Marcos.” The cowboy earned a standing ovation. “And the lucky son of a gun with his blindside to the bull is Brody Murphy from…” The announcer paused then chuckled. “From somewhere in Montana.” Brody hadn’t bothered to include his hometown on the signup sheet because it wasn’t home anymore.

  “Cowboys, keep your hands on the table at all times. The last man seated wins!”

  The chute door opened. Brody held his breath as Big Ben charged the table. The bull veered to the right at the last second, but not before the local cowboy had ditched his seat. Big Ben skidded to a stop, turned and pawed the dirt.

  “We got three cowboys left, folks! Get ready, ‘cause Big Ben’s gonna dig a few graves!”

  The bull charged the table, his horn clipping one cowboy’s shoulder and sending him flying out of his chair. The man scrambled to his feet and made a dash for the rails.

  “Well, folks. Now we know who the dumbest two of the group are—Brody Murphy and Pete Crosby!”

  Big Ben pawed the dirt and snorted. A rodeo clown jumped into the arena and danced about, trying to rile the bull. It worked. Big Ben charged. Brody prayed the bull would turn at the last second. Fat chance.

  The bull rammed the table, sending it and Crosby airborne. Brody managed to cling to his chair, but as the bull pivoted away, it stomped Brody’s left boot. The pain was excruciating for all of ten seconds then his foot went numb. Damn bull had probably broken his toes.

  At least he’d won.

  “There you have it folks—the world’s dumbest cowboy is five hundred bucks richer!”

  The pickup men guided Big Ben to the stock pen and Brody limped out of the arena.

  “Hey, Brody, that was awesome!” Ricky raced toward him. Kat wasn’t far behind.

  “Are you all right?” Her pretty face scrunched with worry.

  “Bruised foot.” For an instant, Brody relished Kat’s concern then just as quickly shut the door on the emotion.

  “Maybe you should have your foot checked out by a—”

  “I’m fine, Kat.” Brody collected his money, then he and Ricky walked Kat to her truck in the parking lot.

  “Don’t cook tonight. We’ll grab supper on the way home,” Brody said.

  Home—he’d meant the Wild Rose. As he watched Kat drive away, pain stronger than the ache in his throbbing foot tweaked Brody’s chest. He blamed it on indigestion.

  “C’MON IN.”

  Kat entered the trailer shortly before 10:00 p.m. Saturday night. “I brought an ice pack for your foot and pain medication.”

  “Thanks.” Brody placed the ice on the kitchen table, then hobbled to the cupboard, filled a glass with water and popped a few pills into his mouth.

  “Ricky said you stopped for pizza on the way home.”

  “That kid has some appetite. Good thing the place was an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  Brody sat down in the recliner and she motioned to his boot. “Let me see your foot.”

  “It’s nothing.” Translation—he couldn’t get his boot off.

  Kat knelt in front of the chair and tugged on the boot, but the leather wouldn’t budge. Stubborn man should have removed his boot right after the bull had stepped on his toes.

  “Let me.” Brody cursed but managed to free his foot. He peeled the sock away, and Kat grimaced at the black-and-blue marks across the top of his swollen foot.

  “Your big toe was spared.” The other four were probably broken. She grabbed the step stool from the kitchen and a pillow from the love seat, then elevated Brody’s foot and placed the bag of ice on his puffy toes. “You’d better keep off your feet tomorrow, and—”

  “Mooch off of you like Dwayne did?”

  “You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word mooch if it hit you in the back of the head.” She adjusted the ice bag when it threatened to slide off his foot. “You work hard for every penny you earn.” Brody continued to glare and Kat worried there was more to his bad mood than a few broken toes.

  “What’s the matter, besides your sore foot?” she asked.

  “You. You’re the matter.”

  Startled, Kat pointed to herself. “Me? What have I done?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Don’t sulk. Tell me what’s got your drawers all twisted in a knot.”

  Brody sat straighter in the chair. “You’re justifying your actions—telling yourself that giving Dwayne money to disappear is okay, when it’s not.”

  “What I do with my money is none of your—”

  “It is my business, Kat, because I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve put my needs and wants first—”

  “Stop.” Kat held up a hand. “I paid Dwayne to leave for Ricky’s sake. Not mine.”

  “Sooner or later you have to quit giving in to Dwayne or you’ll teach Ricky that in order to get what he wants he just has to hold out long enough.”

  “What’s wrong with holding out?” she asked.

  “I held out and lost everything that mattered most to me.”

  Brody’s haunted eyes startled Kat. His pain was so real she ached to hug him. Before she made the worst mistake of her life, Kat bolted from the trailer.

  Chapter Eight

  Kat set the pitchfork aside and closed the latch on the horse stall, then collapsed on a hay bale. She’d run out of energy. Brody’s late-night confession had robbed her of precious sleep.

  I held out and lost everything that mattered most to me.

  What had Brody lost? He’d been married…was he still in love with his ex-wife? If he was, why should it matter to her?

  It matters because you care about Brody as a friend.

  Kat feared her feelings for Brody were edging beyond friendship. It wouldn’t take much on Brody’s part to coax her into caring deeply for him. Despite the hay fire, Dwayne’s stressful visit and suffering broken toes, Brody had kept his promise to help her out at the Wild Rose. Most men would have had enough and moved on.

  Brody had stayed.

  To be honest, Kat had expected Brody to be long gone by now. Maybe he wasn’t a runner so much as a man on the move until he found whatever he was searching for.

  He’s not searching for you, so don’t get any ideas about the two of—

  “Stevie’s here, Mom!” Ricky’s shout cut off the sarcastic voice in her head. She checked her watch. 11:00 a.m. Where had the morning gone? Pasting a welcoming smile on her face, Kat stepped from the barn and froze.

  Stevie was a girl.

  Surprised by Stevie’s gender, Kat wasn’t sure how to react. First, the girlie magazine beneath her son’s mattress and now discovering his best friend was female. Panic exploded inside Kat. How many times had Ricky sneaked off to be alone with Stevie? Kat had never had the birds-and-the-bees talk with her son. That was Dwayne’s job. She should have known better than to hand over the responsibility to a man who’d insisted a girl couldn’t get pregnant the first time she had sex.

  Beth Hunter stood with her daughter next to the corral. Kat walked in their direction, s
ending a silent message to Ricky—why didn’t you tell me Stevie was a girl? He avoided her gaze. Smart boy. “Hello, Beth.”

  “Kat.” Beth introduced the young girl. “This is my daughter, Stevie.”

  The petite blonde held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Sovo.”

  “Same here, Stevie.” Kat watched Ricky shift nervously from one foot to the other. He should be worried after keeping this a secret from her. “I hear you like horses.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The teen’s blue eyes flashed toward Ricky before she returned her attention to Kat. “Ricky says you’re the best with horses. And he said his great-grandfather used to be a horse whisperer.”

  “That’s true. My grandfather and I have always had a special bond with horses. Have you ridden before?”

  “Once.”

  Beth jumped into the conversation. “A long time ago Stevie rode a pony at a traveling carnival. For some reason the animal spooked and bucked. Stevie fell off and broke her arm and hasn’t ridden a horse since.”

  “But I’m ready to try again,” Stevie said.

  “We’ll take things slowly. It’s important that you aren’t afraid of the horse. When animals sense human fear, they become nervous.”

  “What time would you like me to fetch Stevie this afternoon?” Beth asked.

  “Why doesn’t she stay for supper, then I’ll drop her off before dark,” Kat said.

  “Okay then.” Beth turned to her daughter. “Mind Ms. Sovo.”

  “I will, Mom.”

  “C’mon.” Kat led the way to the barn, resisting the urge to peek over her shoulder to see if the teens were holding hands. “I have the perfect horse for you to get to know.”

  “Her name’s Sweet Pea,” Ricky said when Kat stopped outside the mare’s stall. “She’s really old.”

  “How old?” Stevie asked.

  “Twenty-two.” Kat patted the mare’s neck. Sweet Pea’s breeding days had long passed her by, but because she was well mannered and affectionate, the Bakers had kept her as a personal pet. “Here’s how you let Sweet Pea catch your scent.” Kat blew her breath up the horse’s nose and the mare whinnied.

  Stevie giggled then squeezed her eyes shut and puffed at Sweet Pea’s face.

  “She likes you,” Ricky said.

  The heated look that passed between the teens warned Kat that it wouldn’t be long before looks turned into touches and then… She knew kids experimented with sex at an early age these days, but thirteen was too early. “Ricky, show Stevie where we keep the horse treats and bring a few out here for Sweet Pea.”

  “Sure.”

  Kat watched the kids disappear inside the storage room. A few seconds passed then she heard laughter. When the two returned, Stevie’s cheeks were a shade pinker. Kat presumed the two had kissed.

  “This is how you feed a treat to a horse.” Ricky set the biscuit on his palm. Sweet Pea used her lips to nuzzle the treat into her mouth.

  Kat backed the kids up, then led the mare from her stall and tied her to the grooming post in the center of the barn. She placed a stool several feet away. “Stevie, you sit here.” Kat handed her son the grooming belt. “Ricky, you demonstrate how each brush and comb is used and in what order. I’ll be back in a few minutes then Stevie can groom Sweet Pea.”

  Kat hurried from the barn and made a beeline for the trailer. She hadn’t seen Brody all day—not that she’d expected to since she’d insisted he rest his foot. She hated to disturb him, but if she didn’t vent about this latest situation with Ricky, her head would implode. She banged on the door.

  “Come in!”

  She stepped inside, shut the door and gasped. “Oh, my God!”

  “Is it Clyde and Roger?” Brody had his swollen foot halfway into his boot.

  “No, no.” She’d caught Brody’s wince when he’d tried to tug on the boot. “You should have your foot x-rayed.”

  “A doctor can’t do anything for broken toes.”

  He could prescribe a strong painkiller while the bones heal, but Kat didn’t press her point. She predicted that, like Dwayne, Brody didn’t carry health insurance and couldn’t afford an E.R. visit.

  “If it’s not trouble with Clyde and Roger, then why are you upset?” Brody asked.

  “Ricky’s friend Stevie.”

  “What about him?”

  “Her. Him is a her.” Kat peered out the window toward the barn. “I can’t believe Ricky didn’t tell me that Stevie’s a girl.”

  “Is this Ricky’s first girlfriend?”

  “Yes. No.” Kat sighed. “I think so.”

  Brody grinned. “What’s the problem with Stevie being a girl?”

  “Everything. What if she ends up pregnant like I did the first time I had sex?”

  “You got pregnant the first time you had sex?”

  “Dwayne coaxed me into the backseat of his truck—” She frowned. “Never mind my past. I don’t want Ricky to do that to a girl.”

  “Have you talked to him about sex?”

  Kat’s gaze settled on the door. “Dwayne was supposed to.”

  Brody didn’t comment—he didn’t have to. She knew what he thought of Dwayne.

  “Talk to Ricky, Kat. Find out if he and Stevie are sexually active.”

  “I plan to.” The talk couldn’t come soon enough.

  “Good. And don’t forget to discuss birth control.”

  “I know.”

  “Be sure to ask Ricky if he knows how to use a condom.”

  Heat suffused Kat’s face. Were mothers expected to buy a box of condoms and say “Here practice”? Kat’s shoulders sagged. She didn’t want her baby boy to grow up.

  Brody limped across the room and clasped her shoulders. “Everything’s going to be okay, Kat. Discussing sex with Ricky might be embarrassing, but he’ll appreciate hearing the straight facts.” He chuckled. “Take it from a guy who learned about the birds and the bees in the high school locker room.”

  “If he has any questions about…you know, guy things, can he talk to you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Kat’s lips quivered. “And you’ll tell him girls really like the guy to be a virgin on their wedding night?”

  “No, but I’ll tell him a guy should never sleep with a girl unless he has—” Brody stared into Kat’s eyes “—feelings for her.”

  Kat had come to the trailer for moral support, not to be tempted into kissing Brody. “I’d better go,” she whispered. She didn’t want Ricky and Stevie out of her sight for more than a few minutes.

  Kat was well aware that a few minutes was all it took to change one’s life forever.

  BRODY PAUSED OUTSIDE the door of the foreman’s cabin and gathered his composure. No matter how he denied his feelings, the mother-and-son duo were working their way beneath his skin, tempting him to want more out of life than a bare existence.

  Until he’d met Kat, he’d acknowledged his existence for what it was—empty. He’d accepted his solitary lifestyle, roaming from rodeo to rodeo. Aside from his buddy Drew, never connecting with anyone until Kat. She made him want more.

  Deep down, Brody wanted forgiveness. He wanted someone to say… You didn’t mean to make bad choices. You didn’t mean for Angel to suffer from your selfishness. Brody feared that Kat was the one person who could break down his defenses and convince him that it was okay to lay the past to rest. Okay to be happy. To enjoy life. To live again.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Brody lifted his hand to knock but the door suddenly opened and a petite blonde stood before him.

  “Oh, hi. You must be Mr. Murphy. Ricky’s mom just sent me to get you. I’m Stevie.” The girl smiled, showing off silver braces with bright pink bands.

  Heart hammering, Brody entered the cabin.

  Stevie shut the door then returned to the kitchen, where Kat stood at the counter cutting fresh vegetables. Agony ripped through Brody’s chest as he stared at Ricky’s friend. Would his Angel have looked similar to Stevie if she�
��d lived to be a teenager? Would his daughter have worn her long blond hair loose like this girl or in a braid as Angel had worn it the day she’d died?

  Ricky joined Brody by the door. “She’s hot, isn’t she?” Brody scowled and Ricky’s eyes widened. “What did I say?”

  Watching the way Ricky ogled Stevie, reminded Brody of what he’d been like when his hormones had kicked into gear and he’d viewed girls in a new light.

  “Supper’s almost ready.” Kat set a pan of lasagna on the table and Stevie followed with a basket of bread and a veggie plate. The water glasses had already been filled. Kat sat down and reached for Brody’s plate.

  “Aren’t we going to say grace?” Stevie asked.

  “Thanks for reminding us, Stevie.” Kat elbowed her son. “Ricky, will you handle the prayer please?”

  “Dear God, thanks for this food and thanks for Stevie.”

  Kat cleared her throat. “You mean her friendship, right?”

  “Ahh…yeah.”

  Brody caught the way the teens couldn’t take their eyes off each other and had a hunch the kids had already passed the hand-holding stage.

  “Ms. Sovo, is it true that Ricky might be able to go to the junior high in Bandera next fall?” Stevie asked.

  “I hope so,” Kat said.

  “We can join an after-school club together.” Stevie spoke to Ricky.

  “Maybe you’ll be in some of the same classes,” Kat interjected.

  Ricky shook his head. “Stevie’s really smart, Mom. She gets all A’s and she’s in the—” he glanced at Stevie. “—what’s that program you’re in?”

  “Gifted and talented.” Stevie smiled shyly.

  “She wants to go to college and be a doctor,” Ricky bragged.

  “That’s terrific,” Kat said.

  The rest of the meal passed in casual conversation. Brody learned that Stevie was an only child and her father managed one of the restaurants in Bandera. Her mother worked as a substitute teacher at the local elementary school and both sets of grandparents lived in Austin.

  While Kat dished out ice cream for dessert, she asked, “How did you come by the nickname Stevie?”