The Bull Rider's Secret

by Marin Thomas

  Removing the rest of the debris from the stream was exhausting and took Brody an hour. The sun was setting by the time he finished. “There’s quite a bit of erosion where the stream flooded its bank. You’ll want to shore up that area before the next rainstorm hits.” Kat nodded but didn’t speak. He guessed she was as worn-out as he was.

  They arrived at the cabin and found Ricky sitting on the front porch with Spot. Catching sight of their disheveled appearance, the kid asked, “What happened to you guys?”

  Kat managed a smile as she limped forward. “We had to clear a jam in the stream.”

  Ricky jogged to his mother’s side, and helped her walk. “Did you get hurt?”

  “Twisted my ankle. I’m afraid my boot’s stuck in the bottom of the stream.” At the porch steps, Kat said, “I’ll start supper after I clean up.”

  “Don’t worry about supper.” Brody swept Kat into his arms and carried her up the steps and into the cabin. “I’ll be back in a minute to make everyone a sandwich. You stay off your ankle.”

  Brody returned to the trailer where he showered and changed clothes. Twenty minutes later he was back in the cabin slapping bologna and mayo sandwiches together. Kat sat at the kitchen table with her leg propped on a chair and ice on her ankle. If not for Ricky’s chatter about his fishing trip with Stevie the meal would have been a subdued affair.

  Ricky helped Brody clean up the kitchen then the kid excused himself and retired to his room to watch TV. Brody went out to the barn where he spent the next three hours finishing Kat’s chores. Afterward he hauled several bales of fresh hay into the horse barn so Kat would have plenty of feed on hand for a few weeks. When there was nothing more he could do, he returned to the trailer and settled in front of the TV, hoping the late-night news would take his mind off the day’s events.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brody switched TV channels for the umpteenth time. Nothing grabbed his attention. Maybe he should call it a day. He turned off the TV and was halfway to the bedroom when he heard a knock. Reversing direction, he limped to the trailer door, mindful of his sore toes. Ricky stood on the steps. The kid didn’t wait for an invitation. He stepped past Brody then sprawled across the love seat.

  “Want something to drink?” Kat had been generous these past weeks and had kept the fridge stocked with a variety of beverages.

  “No, thanks.”

  Brody returned to the recliner and propped his foot up. He waited for Ricky to speak, but the teen remained silent, his gaze stuck on the floor. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Stevie and I were talking about next fall.” A determined look entered Ricky’s eyes.

  “And…”

  “We really like each other, and we want to go to school together next year.”

  Although he sympathized with the teen, whether or not Ricky attended school in Bandera wasn’t any of his business.

  “With all the trouble Mom’s been having because of those jerks who quit, we might have to move. Mom said the Bakers probably won’t let her to stay on, which means we’ll have to go back to moving from place to place so she can find enough work.” Ricky expelled a deep sigh. “And I’ll have to be homeschooled again.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. The Bakers sound like fair-minded people. They’ll listen to your mom’s side of the story before they make any decisions.”

  Ricky shrugged. “Stevie and I thought of an idea that would let Mom and me stay in the area even if the Bakers fire her.”

  Brody had a hunch he was going to regret asking. “What’s your idea?”

  “Mom likes you and you like my mom.” Ricky’s cheeks turned bright red. “Don’t you?”

  A flashing yellow light went off in Brody’s head. He proceeded with caution. “I have a lot of respect for your mother, Ricky.”

  “Then maybe you could—” Ricky stared at his lap “—you know, marry her.”

  Where in the world had the kid come up with such a crazy idea? “I don’t—”

  “Wait. I want you to hear my plan before you say no.” The teen popped off the couch and paced into the kitchen then back into the family room. “Remember when you said you suck at bull riding?”

  Brody nodded.

  “Maybe you could give up rodeo and just be a ranch hand near here. Mom could go off during the day and shoe horses and I could go to school with Stevie.”

  Brody was speechless. Ricky on the other hand had plenty more to say. “I saw Mom sneaking out of the trailer a while back and it was late at night.” Ricky peeked at Brody. “I figured, you know…that you two…you know…”

  Great. Ricky knew his mother had slept with the hired hand. “I like your mother a lot, Ricky.” More than you’ll ever know. More than is safe. More than is sensible.

  “Okay, so then it wouldn’t be a big deal for you guys to get married. Right?”

  “Wrong.”

  Ricky’s face lost color and Brody cursed beneath his breath. He wasn’t handling the situation well.

  “You don’t like me, do you?” Ricky blurted. Brody opened his mouth to deny the charge but the kid spoke over him. “I can change. I’ll help out more with chores, and I won’t play video games all the time. I’ll quit sneaking off without telling Mom and—”

  “Stop.” Brody rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s not you, Ricky.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Not what…who.” Brody left the chair and went into the bedroom. He rummaged through his gear bag until he found what he was looking for. He walked back into the living room and handed Ricky the photograph.

  “Who is she?”

  “My daughter. Her name is…was Angel.”

  Ricky stared at the picture, his eyes wide. “What happened to her?”

  “She died of pneumonia.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Five.”

  “Do you have any more kids?”

  “No.” Brody swallowed hard. How did he explain to a thirteen-year-old that he was done being parent? “Ricky, I don’t want to be responsible for raising a second child.” Brody had no desire to ruin another kid’s life.

  “But you wouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m Mom’s responsibility, not yours.”

  If it were only that simple. Brody wanted to grant Ricky’s wish, but didn’t dare. “I’m sorry, kid. I’d like to help, but I can’t.”

  Several minutes passed while Ricky studied Angel’s image. “Do you think about her a lot?”

  “Every minute of every day.”

  He set the photograph on the table. “Then she’s lucky.”

  Lucky? Angel was dead. “How do you mean?”

  “You miss her and you think about her. That’s more than my dad cares about me.” Ricky walked to the door. He hesitated, his hand on the knob.

  Just go, kid.

  “I’m sorry about your Angel, Brody.” The door closed with a quiet click.

  Brody snuffed out the lamp by the recliner and sat in the dark for a long time. Tears leaked from his eyes, but he didn’t have the energy to wipe them away. He cried for Angel. He cried for Ricky. He cried for Kat. He cried until he fell asleep.

  C’MON, BRODY, OPEN THE DOOR.

  Kat tapped her foot impatiently. Ricky had been unusually quiet after visiting Brody earlier in the evening. Her son had shocked her when he’d announced at ten o’clock that he was going to bed. Usually he remained awake past midnight, playing video games. Unable to sleep herself after the day’s traumatic events, Kat had decided to take a piece of apple pie to Brody, since he’d skipped dessert.

  She knocked again. No answer. He must have gone to bed. Just as she turned away, the door swung open. Her breath hitched. Brody’s rumpled shirt was unsnapped, revealing a glimpse of his muscled chest. Without a belt, his jeans rode low on his hips, the elastic waistband of his white briefs visible. Dragging her eyes from his body she studied his face, noting his puffy eyes. “I woke you.”

  He ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair, leavi
ng the strands standing on end. “I must have dozed off during the news.” He stepped back from the door.

  Kat slid past him, catching his scent—soap, deodorant and clean male. “Dessert.” She shoved the plate at him.

  “Thanks.” He set the pie on the kitchen table.

  Following a stilted silence, Kat sat on the bench seat and said, “I can’t sleep.”

  Leaning against the counter, Brody crossed his arms. The wall clock ticked off seconds until he met her gaze, his blue eyes sending a jolt through Kat’s body. “How’s your ankle?” he asked.

  “A little sore.” She cleared her throat. “I called Mark Baker and explained what’s happened since they left for Europe.” Admitting defeat to her employer had been one of the most difficult tasks she’d faced in years, but she’d rather Mark hear the news from her than Sheriff Conrad. “I told Mark that I fired Clyde and Roger—” Kat’s eyes burned, but she fought off tears “—because they refused to mow the hay or take orders from me.” She blew out a gust of air. “Mark wasn’t pleased.”

  “You did the right thing informing the Bakers.”

  “Mark said he and Melissa would cut their vacation short. They’re returning on the sixteenth.”

  Brody remained quiet and for the first time since she’d entered the trailer, Kat felt a sense of unease. “Mark said he’d put a call in to the foreman at Indian Manor.” The horse farm was twenty miles east of the Wild Rose. “Jim Mendel and Mark are good friends. He’s going to ask Jim if he can spare one of his cowboys until Mark can interview and hire another ranch hand.” Kat hadn’t told the Bakers that she’d hired Brody to help out after Clyde and Roger left mainly because she hadn’t wanted to answer a lot of personal questions about her relationship with Brody.

  More silence.

  “Ka—”

  “Bro—”

  Brody motioned for Kat to continue. “I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for all your help. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

  “You would have managed, Kat. You’re a fighter.”

  Kat basked in his compliment. “Regardless, I couldn’t have cleared the debris from the stream by myself. Ricky would have had to help and…” She shuddered as she pictured her son losing his footing in the streambed or becoming trapped beneath a tree limb.

  “What are your plans if the Bakers don’t offer you a permanent position?”

  “I’ll hitch the trailer to my truck and return to shoeing horses when and where I can find work.” She hated the idea of uprooting her son again, but she’d do what was necessary to support them.

  “What about Ricky wanting to go to school in Bandera?”

  Kat picked at her nails and ignored the sharp pain in her chest. “He’s a tough kid. He’ll survive another disappointment if he has to.” Kat yearned to make Ricky’s wish to attend public school come true but the odds were stacked against her. She recalled a dream she’d had about the future… The Bakers had offered her a permanent job at the Wild Rose. Ricky made the football team at the junior high school. Brody competed in rodeos but lived with Kat and Ricky when he wasn’t on the road. Reality was the polar opposite of her dream.

  In a few years Ricky would strike out on his own and make a life for himself, leaving Kat behind. She wasn’t afraid of being alone—she was afraid of being lonely. She wanted to share her life with a special man. She wished Brody could be that man.

  Before she realized what she was saying, the words were out of her mouth. “Stay with us, Brody.” His eyes widened with distress. Fearing rejection she rushed on. “Even after the Bakers return.”

  Brody’s face turned ashen. “I can’t.”

  Don’t beg. Please don’t beg. “Why?”

  He didn’t answer and a burning heat crept into her cheeks. Time to leave. Brody beat her to the door. His hot breath puffed against the top of her head. Gathering her courage she looked him in the eye. His tortured expression cut her to the quick.

  “I don’t want to leave, but…”

  “Then don’t,” she whispered.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Right then Kat decided she’d do anything to make Brody change his mind. She was certain that with time he’d reach the same conclusion she had—they were meant to be together.

  But the stakes were high. She was halfway in love with Brody right now and it would take little effort on his part to win the other half of her heart. Giving no thought to the consequences, Kat snuggled her head beneath his chin. Heart thundering, she rubbed her nose against his clean skin and breathed in his scent. Then she kissed his neck, flicking her tongue over his hot skin. He moaned and cupped her breast, squeezing gently. She slid her thigh between his legs and nudged his groin, rejoicing in the hardness against her knee.

  Confident they’d end up in bed, Kat poured her heart and soul into each caress and kiss, erasing any doubt in Brody’s mind that she wanted him. She stood on tiptoe and lifted her face to his.

  The woman drove him mad. Holding her head, he devoured her mouth. She tasted good. So damned good. Kissing Kat made Brody feel clean and innocent inside. She made him believe he could become a new man. A better man.

  With a fierceness he hadn’t known he’d possessed, Brody swung Kat into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her on the mattress, covering his body with hers. Time ceased as he lost himself in loving Kat.

  Clothes were tossed on the floor and there was little need for foreplay. Kat was as eager for him as he was for her. Their lovemaking was fierce and wild—moans, groans and shuddering breaths.

  Brody fought against the slow, steady throb building inside him…driving him crazy…making him desperate to prolong the experience. He attempted to shut off his emotions and focus on the physical sensations Kat’s touches and kisses invoked. Brody yearned to take a leap of faith and pray that Kat would catch him…heal him…help him find peace. He wanted redemption so damned bad, but Kat had been hurt in the past. Brody couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t hurt her, too.

  Angry and bitter that a future with Kat was out of his reach, he threw himself into his lovemaking, needing to show Kat how much he wished things could be different for them. The end came with such force that Brody felt gutted. As their bodies cooled, Kat’s eyes fluttered open. “Don’t leave, Brody.”

  First Ricky. Now Kat.

  “I’m a bull rider, Kat. Rodeo cowboys don’t put down roots.” He buried his face between her breasts, his throat tight with need. Pain. Guilt. Her nails scraped against his skull as she slid her fingers through his hair. His body throbbed with renewed arousal.

  Kat pushed his shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eye. “You’re always welcome with Ricky and me wherever we are.”

  Another minute and he’d give in and accept what Kat offered—a future. Forgiveness. Maybe even love. The longer he remained at the Wild Rose the greater the risk of succumbing to a deeper need to be part of Kat’s and Ricky’s lives.

  Brody sprang from the bed, grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. A minute later he returned to the bedroom fully clothed. He stuffed his possessions into his duffel bag and without a word, he walked out of the room.

  A sense of déjà vu filled Kat as she shielded her body with the sheet and trailed Brody to the door. “You can’t run forever.”

  “I’m going to give it a hell of a try.” Shoot, he’d missed too many rodeos as it was—not that he would have won any of them. No matter how hard he worked at the sport, bull riding wasn’t in his blood. Brody sat in the recliner and tugged on his boots.

  Kat’s chest heaved with her struggle not to cry. Couldn’t Brody see that what they had together was a hundred times better than what they had alone? That together they could face the future and conquer their fears?

  “Angel wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

  He faced Kat. “Live like what? In order to succeed at my job I need to compete in as many rodeos as possible.”

  “You’
re not a bull rider, Brody.” Kat sighed, the sound coming from deep within her chest. “You’re the worst competitor on the circuit.” She knew for a fact because she’d researched the PRCA rodeo on the internet and his name never appeared in the winner’s column.

  “A man’s luck can change.”

  “A man has to want his luck to change first,” she said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you believe you don’t deserve any happiness in life because of what happened to your daughter.” Desperate to find a way to keep Brody from leaving, she said, “You’re tired of running and tired of paying for your daughter’s death, but you don’t have the guts to ask for forgiveness. When are you going to accept that you’re human and humans make mistakes, especially with those they love most.”

  “That’s enough, Kat.”

  She’d come this far…. “You ride bulls, because you’re looking for an out. A way to make the pain stop. The guilt to go away.”

  “You think I’m on a suicide mission?” Brody’s face transformed into an angry mask, his eyes cold and empty.

  The tears she’d valiantly held at bay, escaped and she held out her hand, pleading in silence.

  The quiet click of the door latch was a shotgun blast to her heart.

  “HEY, MOM.” Ricky sat at the kitchen table and shoved a half slice of buttered toast into his mouth.

  Kat yawned for the hundredth time as she poured a glass of milk for her son. She’d lain awake for hours last night after Brody had departed. Finally she’d fallen asleep and the alarm on her cell phone had jarred her awake a half hour later.

  She delivered the milk to Ricky then refilled her coffee cup, before joining him at the table.

  “What’s the matter? Are you sick?” Ricky frowned.

  Heartsick. She blew on her coffee. “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “You want me to feed the horses?”

  Her son had rotten timing—deciding to be sweet when her defenses were weak. Tears burned her eyes and she sniffed.

  “Jeez, Mom, don’t cry. I’ll help Brody muck stalls as long as I can go to Stevie’s later this afternoon after she gets home from school. We’re gonna watch Scary Movie 3.”