by Cheryl Biggs
The announcer’s voice boomed over the PA system again. “Okay, folks, now we’re going to get a little down and dirty. First bull rider up tonight is Shane Larrabee, PRCA’s World Champion All Around Cowboy for the past two years and going for number three. Tonight he’s riding Dust Devil.”
Kate spun around and hobbled back toward the fence. She should have gotten here earlier to check his gear. What if—? She couldn’t go there. Nothing was going to go wrong. Not now. Not tonight. She saw Josh Lawyler walking toward her, as if having just come from the bull pen area, and her heart momentarily froze. Suspicion filled her. What if he was the one? What if he’d just done something to Shane’s grip rope? She needed to get to Shane.
Forgetting her injury, and her crutches, Kate took a step forward. Pain shot through her ankle and sliced upward into her leg, bringing stars to her eyes and nearly pulling her to her knees.
The buzzer sounded.
Kate’s heart froze.
The gate flew open and Dust Devil shot from the pen, his mottled red-and-white body spinning and bucking in a blur.
“This looks like it’s gonna be one heck of a ride,” Hodges said over the loudspeakers.
Kate hurriedly hobbled to the fence, biting down on her lip and ignoring the throbbing of her ankle. “Ride safe,” she murmured, over and over. “Please, please, ride safe.”
Shane clung to the animal’s back, his legs moving in perfect motion with the bull’s bucking, his free hand waving effortlessly through the air above his head.
Kate held her breath and prayed. Hodges said something she didn’t catch.
The buzzer sounded and Shane jumped to the ground.
Kate nearly sagged against the fence in relief. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.
The crowd roared their approval as the clowns urged the bull from the arena and Shane scooped his hat up and slapped it against his thigh to rid it of dust. He waved to the audience and loped out of the arena.
Kate watched him, appreciating the way reflections of the bright lights of the arena played within the dark waves of his hair, like diamonds peeking from a thatch of silk, danced off the silver conchos attached to the outer seams of his chaps, the silver spurs jingling merrily at his heels, and heightened the depth of bronze that long hours under the sun had lent to his face.
How could a man so strong, a man who could willingly, even eagerly, endure so much physical hardship and abuse, be so gentle? she wondered, remembering the tender way he had carried her, waited on her, and made love to her.
At the gate he disappeared into a circle of cowboys, all reaching out to slap him on the back and congratulate him. None seemed jealous. None looked like they’d do anything, including sabotage a friend, in order to win.
“Well, folks,” Hodges announced, as Shane’s points came up on the lighted scoreboard, “looks like that ride put Larrabee well into the lead. But we’ve still got a lot of cowboys ready to challenge him tonight, including Tim Norris and the Legend, Skip Magruder.”
Kate turned and hobbled as fast as she could toward the gate Shane had disappeared through. She spotted him standing near the Snack Shack talking to Craig Lawyler. Fear suddenly seized her courage and nearly robbed it from her grasp. What if he walked away from her? What if he denounced her, or refused to listen? What if he didn’t care what her reasons had been?
“Shane.” Dee Brant ran toward him and threw herself into his arms. “We won! We won!”
Kate stopped dead in her tracks.
Shane smiled down at Dee as his arms held her close. “I take it you’re still leaving all the others in the dust,” he said, and chuckled.
“We have to celebrate,” Dee said. “I’m doing great, Cody had a terrific bareback ride earlier, and you just cleaned everybody else off the slates. We’re going to Vegas, and it’s party time.”
Shane shook his head. “I think you’re putting the horse before the cart, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The word stabbed at Kate, slicing through her heart like a sharp blade of ice.
“We haven’t actually won yet,” Shane said. “Anyway, we’ve got a few more rodeos to go before Vegas, so let’s not count our—”
“Oh, poo,” she laughed, slapping playfully at his shoulder. “We’re going and you know it.”
Kate felt all her built-up hopes suddenly shrivel and disappear. She quickly moved into the shadows of the announcers’ booth and, reaching for a nearby pole, closed her eyes and laid her forehead against it, as torment and loss taunted her.
It was too late. She looked up and saw Shane’s arm slip around Dee Brant’s shoulders as they turned to walk toward the publicity house. Kate felt a sob fill her throat and swallowed it back. Maybe she’d never really had Shane Larrabee. At least not this time.
She struggled to hold back her tears. She’d been a fool. So many times, in so many ways, it wasn’t even funny.
Kate heard several cowboys talking nearby and glanced around quickly. She recognized Tim Norris and Cody Larrabee. Not wanting to talk to anyone, she turned away and headed for the stall area. She’d pack up her gear and get someone to take it to her car, then tomorrow she’d have Bree come down with her and get Dancer.
A young boy ran in front of her and, brushing against one of her crutches, nearly sent her spinning. Kate sniffed, cursed softly and, regaining her balance, hobbled on.
If Shane had really loved her, he couldn’t have turned to Dee Brant again so quickly. And he would have never left her in the first place. Or at least not stayed gone for three years. He would have called, sent her a card or letter. Something!
Kate was deep in thought as she turned the corner of the stall building. Maybe she should confront him anyway. Maybe she should...no. What would be the point? More pain? More angry words?
Suddenly a movement at the opposite end of the building caught her attention. She stilled, her heart thudding frantically against her breast. Moving instinctively now, she positioned herself against the building’s wall, well out of the light that shone down from the spotlights positioned on the roof.
The dark shadow of a man moved stealthily across the aisleway, paused briefly in front of the stall where Shane kept his horse, then slipped inside.
To reassure herself help was within reach if she needed it, Kate reached for the small radio she normally kept clipped to the back of her belt when she was on duty. She froze as her fingers met nothing. She tried to recall if she’d even clipped it on, but couldn’t remember.
A soft thud broke the silence that hovered about the stable area. Kate held her breath and bent down, praying she wouldn’t drop a crutch as she reached under her pantleg and into her boot for the small .38 she kept tucked into her ankle holster. At least she hadn’t forgotten that, but it was such a habit putting it on every day that most times she even wore it to the grocery store. She pulled the gun out and slid it beneath her waistband, then grasped the crutches again and began inching her way toward Samson’s gate, hardly daring to breathe and praying she wouldn’t accidentally put weight on her injured foot and end up on her face, wailing in pain while her suspect hightailed it into the dark.
A horse whinnied and Kate froze, her heart jumping into her throat. A second later she hopped hurriedly forward, afraid the saboteur was hurting Shane’s horse. At the open gate she pulled her gun out and, holding it up and ready, peeked around the doorjamb.
The man in the stall had his back to her as he kneeled beside Shane’s saddle. Kate did a quick assessment of the situation and the man. The pale moonlight flowing into the stall glistened on his blond hair. He looked like he’d be taller than her by several inches, but his build was slight, almost like a teenager’s.
Kate saw his hand reach behind him and draw a knife from a leather sheath attached to the rear of his belt. She swallowed hard, quickly going over her options. Backing away quietly, she retreated several yards from Samson’s gate. If she’d had two good feet she might have had time to run for help, but she didn’t, and she couldn�
�t. Frustration burned inside of her. She couldn’t let him get away. She moved back to the gate of Dancer’s stall and, cautiously reaching inside, grabbed a coiled rope that hung on the wall. It would have to do instead of handcuffs, if she got that far. Raising her gun to the ready again, she moved back toward Samson’s stall. Tension held every fiber and muscle in her body as tight as a stretched rubber band. She had the element of surprise on her side, but if he resisted... She didn’t want to think about the fact that most of the karate maneuvers she’d learned were useless with a game leg.
The gate to Samson’s stall opened and the man stepped out.
Kate’s adrenaline was pumping so fast she felt heady. She could see that the knife had been closed and replaced in a leather sheath attached to his belt. She stepped from the shadows and, holding her arms stiffly out in front of her, aimed her gun directly at him. “Hold it right there. Police.”
He whirled around and, seeing her, uttered an ugly curse.
Kate inched partway around him. “Put your hands up against the wall.”
“I—I was only looking at the horse.”
A dog suddenly careened around the corner of the stall building, barking wildly, and knocked into Kate. One crutch toppled from beneath her arm. She lost her balance and tried to reach out toward the wall while keeping her weapon aimed at their saboteur.
He whirled, lunged forward and grabbed her gun.
“No,” Kate screamed and grappled with him, twisting her hands around in an effort to escape his grasp and keep hold of her weapon.
They fell to the ground.
One of his feet kicked her injured ankle.
Pain shot up Kate’s leg, filled her body, and brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to let go of her gun. She rammed an elbow into his ribs.
The teen grunted, a swoosh of air flew past Kate’s ear, and the kid twisted away, jerking on the gun. He cursed viciously.
Shane and Dee rounded the corner of the building. “He deserves a carrot,” Dee said, “then we’ll go downtown and do our own round of—”
“What the—?” Shane muttered, and in the flash of a millisecond he took in several things that nearly stopped his heart: two people were rolling around on the ground, were directly in front of Samson’s stall, fighting each other for a gun...and one of the people on the ground was Kate.
Shane bolted away from Dee.
“Shane!” She screamed after him, terror in her voice.
He ran forward and slammed a booted foot down on the man’s arm, recognizing him at that moment as Josh Lawyler. Shane bent and grabbed the gun.
An explosion of sound suddenly filled the air as the .38 went off and a bullet slammed into the overhanging roof of the stalls.
Dee screamed.
“Get help,” Shane yelled at her, as the three of them writhed and jerked about on the ground.
Dee spun around and ran toward the arena.
“Kate, let go,” Shane ordered.
Before she could, she felt an elbow slam into her previously injured ribs. Her breath abruptly deserted her as pain shot through every fiber of her body.
Josh twisted violently.
“Stop!” Shane yelled, throwing his full weight against the kid.
Kate curled herself into a ball, holding her stomach and trying to will the pain away:
“Screw you,” Josh grunted, and yanked viciously for the gun again.
Shane rammed a fist into his face.
The teenager grunted softly, and went instantly slack.
Shane pulled away from him and jerked the gun from his now limp hand. “Stupid idiot.” He looked down at Josh in disgust, jerked the knife from its holster, then pushed to his feet and drew in a ragged gulp of air as his attention and gaze instantly darted toward Kate. His heart dropped to his feet at seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away, curled up tighter than a rope in a knot. “Son of a—” He started toward her.
“Hold it right there, mister,” a gruff voice yelled from behind him.
Shane glanced over his shoulder.
Two beefy uniformed security guards were suddenly on him, grabbing at his arms and trying to wrestle him up against the front of the building.
“I’m not the—” His face slammed against the aluminum siding and pain shot up Shane’s left arm as it was yanked behind him.
“Get off of him, you fools,” Dee screamed, throwing herself at one of the guards and pummeling him with her fists. “Get off of him.”
Josh Lawyler struggled to his knees.
Shane jerked against the guards’ hold on him and rammed one of them up against the building.
Kate opened her eyes, saw Josh getting up, and swung a leg toward him. Her booted foot slammed into his arm and sent him sprawling onto his face.
“Get off of me, woman,” one of the guards snarled at Dee.
“You’ve got the wrong man!” She slammed a fist into his arm.
Shane took advantage of the guard’s preoccupation with Dee and jammed a shoulder into the man’s chest. The guard’s breath deserted him in a loud whoosh and his grip on Shane disappeared.
At the same moment, Dee struck again, her clenched fist ricocheting off the guard’s breastbone and slamming into his jaw.
Shane yanked free of the other guard and ran to Kate, who was struggling to her feet. “Are you all right? Kate?” His arm went around her waist as she swayed. “Did he hurt you, Red? Talk to me.”
The security guards started toward Shane again.
“Not him,” Dee screamed. “Him!” She pointed at Josh just as he staggered to his feet again.
Kate, sitting up now, waited until the world stopped spinning before even thinking of trying to answer him. All she wanted was to fall into his arms, to press herself to his chest and never move away. Instead she merely nodded, carefully. “I’m fine.” No sooner did the words leave her lips, than she swayed again.
“Kate?” Shane said, his brow creasing into a deep frown. “What’s wrong, honey?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again.
Dee turned, her eyes wide with shock. “Kate?” she echoed, and stared down at her.
Kate looked up and met Dee’s gaze. Contempt shone in the younger woman’s dark blue eyes.
“I didn’t do anything,” Josh Lawyler yelled, as the two security guards hefted him to his feet and he struggled against them.
Shane helped Kate to her feet, his arm securely around her waist, where it stayed even once she was up. Still leaning on Shane, she drew her badge out of her pocket, and showed it to the guards. “I’m Officer Morgan, Reno Police, and this is the man who’s been sabotaging things around here,” she said, nodding toward Josh.
Shane turned his attention to the teenager. “You were behind all these things?”
Josh smiled nastily.
“What were you doing here tonight?” Kate asked.
“Nothing,” Josh sneered.
“Nothing with a knife?” she snapped, the rein she had on her temper being tenuous at best. The scowl on his face told her he wasn’t going to say anything more at the moment. Kate accepted her crutches from one of the security officers, then moved a step away from Shane and turned to Josh.
“Josh Lawyler, you’re under arrest,” Kate said. “You have the right to remain silent. You have...” She kept her eyes averted from Shane’s, afraid to look at him now as she read the young man his rights, then watched as one of the security guards placed him in handcuffs and the other retrieved the knife, which had fallen to the ground when they’d tackled Shane.
Shane glanced toward Samson’s stall and saw the horse had moved to the half gate and was watching them. He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked back at his friend’s younger brother. “What did you do, Josh?”
“Nothing.”
He closed the distance between them before anyone could even blink, grabbed the collar of the teenager’s shirt and nearly jerked him off his feet. “I asked you a question, Josh. What were you doing in
my horse’s stall?” Menace threaded through his voice.
“Trying to get rid of you,” the teenager spat, his face screwing into an ugly sneer.
Shane frowned, puzzled and surprised by the boy’s words. He released him with a shove that sent Josh tripping backward several steps. “Why?” Shane growled, glaring at him.
Josh straightened and threw his chin up in defiance. “Because you were gonna win again, that’s why,” he said, hatred flaring in his pale eyes. “And it ain’t fair. Craig should win. It’s his turn. Anyway, he’s fifty times better’n you could ever be.”
“He was going to make sure you didn’t have much of a ride next time you were up for calf roping,” Dee said, walking out of Samson’s stall and holding up Samson’s cinch. The cut was on the inside, where it wasn’t apparent at a casual glance. It would have held for a while, but the minute Shane jumped from Samson to go after the calf, the cinch most likely would have broken, the rope would go slack, and he’d end up with zero points. “Not very original, kid,” Shane scoffed.
“Yeah, well, it worked on her,” Josh drawled, throwing Kate a nasty glance.
Shane grabbed his shirtfront again. “You cut her cinch? That’s why she fell in the arena?”
Josh glared at him.
“Why?” Shane growled into the teenager’s face.
Josh wiggled away from him. “I saw you two at the dance,” he said, spitting each word out venomously. “How you looked at her, and kissed her. I figured if she got hurt, maybe you’d stay at the hospital with her. Forget about the rodeo. Even forfeit your rides.”
“There should be a patrol car at the gate any minute,” Kate said to one of the security guards. “Take him up there.” She bent to slip her gun back in its holster, then turned back to Shane as the men led Josh away.
His gaze was pinned to her ankle, where the gun had disappeared.
“Shane...”
He looked up and Kate felt her heart sink at the cold fury suddenly etched in every line of his face, in the stiff stance of his shoulders, in the darkness of his eyes. This was no longer the man who, only moments ago, had fought for her, held her, been afraid for her. This was the Shane who had walked out on her, the Shane who had been furious at her only hours ago, the Shane who had angrily declared they had nothing more to say to each other. Kate felt her courage prepare to desert her, and clung to it desperately. “Shane, I—can we—”
