by Cheryl Biggs
“No.” He turned and slammed a fist into the tin wall of the stall, all the fury and feelings of betrayal returning to him twofold and overriding the worry and fear for her now that she was safe. “No.”
“Shane, please listen.” Kate’s heart raced. “Let me explain.”
He whirled around to face her. “Explain?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hear how important your job is to you, Kate. How being a cop is a family tradition with the Morgans, and not really all that dangerous.” The rancor that colored his voice was as sharp and cold as a knife. “You could have been killed here tonight, Kate, do you realize that? He had your gun. He could have shot you.”
“Shane, please, listen, I only came here to—”
“I said no, Kate.” He snapped, cutting her off. “No more talking, no more lies.”
Before she could utter another word, he spun on his heel and stalked toward the arena.
He was through listening, dammit, through hoping. He’d been a first-class idiot to even come back to Reno, and the world’s biggest fool to ever get involved with Kate Morgan again.
“Shane!” Kate called. She took several hobbling steps after him. “Shane. Please.” Tears stung her eyes as he turned the corner of the building without even looking back, and disappeared from her view.
“He’s right,” Dee said, from behind Kate, her voice dripping derision. “He should never have come back.”
Chapter 12
Kate looked at Dee Brant.
The younger woman’s eyes were hot with scorn, but before Kate could ask what she’d meant by the comment, Dee turned and ran after Shane.
“No,” Kate mumbled softly, “I was wrong to have ever let him go.” She stood staring at the empty aisleway, waiting for him to reappear, and knowing, just like three years ago, that he wouldn’t. The immediate silence, the stillness suddenly around her, made more acute by the soft hum of activity coming from the arena and carnival that were so near, but at the moment so far away, seemed to accentuate, even intensify, her feelings. She felt lost and defeated, and so very much alone. Exactly the way she’d felt on the day her mother died.
She closed her eyes and sagged against her crutches, inhaling deeply, sighing slowly. Everything in her, every cell and breath of life, urged her to run after Shane, to find him and tell him how wrong she’d been about everything. But what good would it do? It was too late. She’d gone too far this time. He refused to even listen, let alone understand.
Kate straightened and started toward the arena. The patrol car should have arrived by now, and she had a job to finish. Then she’d sit down and decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. Cursing her crutches with each halting step, she moved toward the parking lot. As she neared the gate she saw Shane’s trailer parked nearby. It was dark. His pickup was parked beside it.
Maybe he was inside with Dee Brant.
Kate felt an icy chill settle around her heart.
A patrol car was at the gate, Josh Lawyler was in the back seat, and two officers were standing beside the car, waiting for her. One of them turned as she approached. “Officer Morgan,” he said, “Williams is going to transport your prisoner back to the station.” He nodded toward the other officer. “You want to ride back with me?”
Craig Lawyler ran up just as Kate nodded and the patrol officer turned to open the door for her. “Hey, wait a minute. What the hell is going on here? Why is my brother in that car? Where are you taking him?”
Kate looked back at him. She was in no mood for hysterics or bullying, and in no frame of mind to stand in the middle of the rodeo’s parking lot and explain the situation. “Maybe you’d better come down to police headquarters, Mr. Lawyler,” Kate said wearily. “We can discuss it there.”
“No,” Craig snapped, angrily. “You tell me now. What’s going on? What’d he do?”
Kate looked around. The last thing she wanted was a scene. “Josh is under arrest for malicious mischief, assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, and possibly more.”
“What malicious mischief?” he demanded, his angry glare jumping between Josh and Kate.
Kate sighed. Why was everything proving to be so hard this evening? “Your brother is the one who’s been sabotaging the rodeo, Mr. Lawyler. And we believe he did the same thing in Oklahoma a few months ago.”
Craig whirled to stare at his younger brother. “What? You’ve been doing those things?” Outrage registered on his face.
“I did it for you, Craig,” Josh yelled through the patrol car’s window. “So you’d win.”
Craig shook his head. “I should have known. Dammit all to hell, I should have known.” He turned to Kate. “He’s been in juvenile hall so many times in the last few years they probably have a room reserved for him with his name on the door. After his last release our folks said they couldn’t put up with him anymore. Wouldn’t put up with him.” A long, weary sigh slid from his lips. “I figured maybe if he was with me for a while, on the circuit, I could straighten him out, make him see things right, you know?”
Kate nodded. “He’ll need you now more than ever,” she said softly, and climbed into the patrol car.
Like you need Shane, a little voice in her mind whispered.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kate laid her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. She’d have to tell Captain Aames that she was resigning. Type up a formal resignation. Hopefully they wouldn’t insist on notice time. She wanted to leave immediately.
Memory of the way Dee Brant had run into Shane’s arms, and how he’d easily accepted her there, filled Kate’s mind. A sense of despair invaded the fragile thread of hope she’d been clinging to without even being aware of it.
Fool of fools, that was him. King idiot. A man who never learned. Shane sat on a small knoll behind the stall area and watched Kate as she climbed into the patrol car. How on earth could he have been so stupid? So naive? He turned his gaze toward the sky as the police cars pulled out of the parking lot.
A thin crescent moon and a myriad of stars hung over the mountains that bordered Reno to the west. The peacefulness of the scene was the exact opposite of the emotions roiling tumultuously around within Shane. Something had warned him not to come to Reno this year. Something deep down inside him had tried to tell him he should stay away, but he hadn’t listened. He’d been too determined to defend his title and win it again this year, and break Magruder’s record, that he hadn’t listened.
He snapped the thin, dry twig he was holding in both hands, as he watched the taillights of the patrol cars disappear from sight. Falling in love with Kate Morgan had turned his life upside down four years ago, and losing her had nearly destroyed him. Now it was happening all over again. He absently held the two pieces of twig together and snapped them in half again.
He’d never thought, not for one lousy minute, that she’d choose her job over what they’d had together, what they could have built as a future. A muscle flexed tight in his jaw and an image of his parents’ gravesite flashed through Shane’s mind.
Kate’s job had almost gotten her killed tonight. The thought sent a shiver racing up his spine. For years he’d done his best to put all memory of his parents behind him, then he’d tried to do the same with his memory of Kate and their love. Now the past came rushing back, threatening to overwhelm him.
After his mother’s death, Shane’s father had been swallowed up by grief that intensified, rather than lessened, with every passing day. Finally, he’d reached the point where he didn’t even care about his children anymore, let alone his life. The Larrabees’ world had faltered horribly with Dora Larrabee’s murder. It collapsed altogether when John Larrabee took his own life a year later and left his older son feeling the shame of being responsible for his mother’s death, his younger son turning to his older brother as the only stability left in his life, and his baby daughter with no opportunity at all to know either one of her parents.
Shane swore softly, not wanting to remember, an
d finding he had no choice. The tears he’d always refused to shed suddenly filled his eyes as emotions both old and new settled around his heart.
Seeing Kate struggling for that gun, fighting for her life, had brought it all back: the guilt, the loneliness, and the fear. Her job, and her stubbornness, would get her killed, just like it had his mother. He was as certain of that as he was of his own name, and just as certain that he couldn’t stick around to wait for that day like his father had done. He just couldn’t stand to lose the woman he loved like that.
Somewhere in the distance a horse whinnied, and a car door slammed shut. The screams of delight from the children crowding onto the carnival rides was little more than a hum on the air, and every once in a while the buzzer from the rodeo would penetrate his thoughts.
Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. The old adage skipped through his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Shane scoffed. Whoever had written that had a lot to learn. He pushed to his feet. There was no reason to put it off any longer. He stared across the open acreage that lay behind the fairgrounds, then turned and began walking back toward the stalls. Like his favorite childhood western hero used to say, it was time to pack up his gear and get the hell out of Dodge. Then maybe he could put all of his memories behind him. Maybe if he really tried he could forget the past, he could move on...and forget Kate Morgan and the way she made him feel complete when she slid her arms around his neck and captured his lips with hers.
But something in the back of his mind told him that was just another fantasy.
As he neared Samson’s stall, the sounds of the arena grew louder, and Jim Hodges’s voice came to him clearly over the PA systems speakers.
“Okay, folks, Skip Magruder’s up next on Blindsider. Skip’s a bit behind Shane Larrabee in points tonight, but this is one heck of a bull and should give him a good ride.”
The buzzer sounded.
Shane paused in front of Samson’s stall. Whatever Magruder or anyone else did tonight, Shane had racked up almost enough points and bucks to qualify for Vegas already, and with the Cow Palace in Frisco still on the agenda, he didn’t have to worry. He still had time if he needed it. So if he wanted to leave Reno now, it didn’t matter. He reached into his pocket for the key to unlock the stall’s gate. And leaving was exactly what he wanted, and intended, to do.
“Magruder looks good,” the announcer said. “Perfect form, hanging in there good. He’s working his spurs for more points and...whoa, wait, he’s in trouble. Magruder’s in trouble!”
The audience gasped.
Shane tensed, turned, and stared toward the arena, his breath stalled in his lungs as he waited for the announcer’s next words.
“His hand’s caught in the grip rope.”
The audience quieted, and tension filled the air.
Shane bolted toward the arena.
“Get to him, boys,” the announcer said, a thread of panic in his voice. “Oh, no! Blindsider’s whirled. Looks like Magruder caught a horn in the ribs.”
Shane ran past the Snack Shack, deserted now as every cowboy in the place was headed toward the arena.
“There’s Travis Baines, best bullfighter in the business, trying to get to Magruder.”
Shane leapt onto the fence and swung a leg over its top rail. Magruder’s hand was caught in the rope and he was hanging off one side of the bull, being bounced around the animal’s massive shoulder like a rag doll.
The audience was silent, gripped by terror.
Shane jumped down into the arena.
Suddenly Skip’s hand jerked free and he flew away from the angry Brahma. The clowns rushed forward, waving at the bull and trying to get his attention away from Magruder, who lay motionless on the ground.
Shane paused, as he saw Skip begin to get to his feet.
Blindsider whirled around and charged at Skip.
The audience gasped, and someone screamed.
Skip threw himself to one side, avoiding the bull’s horns but his legs tangled with the animal’s hooves. Blindsider ran across the arena, spun around, and looked back at the man he’d just trampled.
Several other cowboys, including Shane, realized instantly the bull intended to charge again.
One of the clowns, his painted-on smiling face belying the seriousness of the moment, ran up and clobbered the bull on the side of the head with his red rubber barrel in an effort to get his attention. Two other cowboys made a grab for Skip, and Shane caught hold of the animal’s tail and yanked on it for all he was worth.
“We got him,” one of the cowboys shouted, dragging Skip to the side of the arena.
Shane instantly released Blindsider’s tail and made a dash for the rails.
The bull snorted, shook his head, and pranced gingerly in the direction of the open gate the clowns were urging him toward.
Shane jumped down from the fence, unable to believe what had just happened, and ran to the small crowd gathering around Skip, pushing his way through. He fell to his knees beside the man he’d always considered the best of the best. Magruder lay motionless now, unconscious. Blood covered his forehead, one arm, and one side of his shirt, while his right leg appeared definitely broken.
Two paramedics shoved Shane out of the way. “If he survives this, it will be a miracle,” one of the men mumbled, dropping a medical bag down and rummaging through it while the other man hurriedly affixed an oxygen mask over Skip’s face. Within seconds they had him strapped on a cot, and were rushing him toward a waiting ambulance.
“Skip!” A woman, her eyes wild with fear, tears streaming down her face, shoved her way through the crowd and rushed at the ambulance. “Skip!”
He recognized June Magruder, Skip’s wife, as she grabbed at one of the paramedics, then shoved past him and scrambled into the ambulance after her husband.
Shane watched the vehicle pull away and head for the gate, its red light flashing, siren blaring, the shock of what he’d just seen happen turning his blood cold.
Kate stood near the bleachers, her heart in her throat as she watched the paramedics carry Skip Magruder from the arena, with Shane following them. Her hands trembled so badly she could barely maintain a grip on her crutches.
All she could think of was that it could have been Shane. He could have been the one on that bull, the one lying injured on that stretcher, being rushed to the hospital.
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” His arms tightened around her, and he pulled her closer.
Kate looked into his eyes and knew she had never, not for one second, stopped loving this man.
His lips brushed tenderly across hers.
Kate felt the swell of emotions churning within her. Moments earlier, and only a block from the fairgrounds she’d told the patrol officer driving the car to bring her back. Josh Lawyler had been talking up a storm in the patrol car, almost as if he was proud of the hurt and destruction he’d caused. He had put the tacks in Samson’s stall, and he’d been listening at the window of Hodges’s trailer that day when the arena manager had reassigned Shane to a stall next to Kate’s. He had cut the cinches, the ropes, mucked up the stalls, left the threatening messages, and cut a small slice in the brake line of Shane’s truck, just enough so that the fluid would leak out slowly, but steadily. He’d known Shane could have been killed, but he didn’t care. All he’d wanted was for his brother to win, and to Josh that meant he had to get rid of the competition, namely Shane. Someone else could book Lawyler, make up her report, even take credit for the arrest if they wanted. Or they could just wait for her to get to the station when she got there. She didn’t care. Captain Aames wouldn’t be happy, in fact he’d probably be furious with her, but that didn’t matter to her anymore either. She’d put her job before the man she loved long enough.
Now, as the ambulance disappeared beyond the gate, Kate started toward Shane, needing desperately to talk to him, to tell him how much she loved him. But before she could get more than two steps, Jim Hodges, in a rather sha
ky voice, announced a brief intermission, and Shane disappeared within the crowd that surged from the bleachers.
Kate looked around frantically. No. She couldn’t lose him now. Not now.
“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Cody demanded as he watched Shane cram his clothes haphazardly into a duffel bag.
Shane straightened and looked at his younger brother. “Leaving,” he said, his tone hard and cold. “As in going. Not here. Gone.”
“I know what leaving means,” Cody snapped. “What I want to know is why. What in blazes happened to make you—” His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Oh-oh. Wait a minute. It’s Kate, isn’t it? It’s Kate Morgan again.”
Shane jerked the duffel bag closed, rammed his Stetson back onto his head, and pushed past Cody. He kicked open the trailer’s door. “I’ll meet up with you on the circuit later,” he growled over his shoulder.
Cody scrambled after him. “Shane, dammit, wait a minute. You can’t just—What about the horses? I can’t haul them and the trailer too.”
“Put yours with Dee’s and hire a professional to transport Samson back to the ranch.” Shane climbed into his truck and slammed the door. “I’ll reimburse you later.”
“Shane!”
The pickup’s engine roared to life.
“I’ve missed you so much, Shane.” Her arms slid around his neck as her lips pressed to his.
Home. He was finally home.
Geez, how much of an idiot was he to believe her again? Shane jerked the gearshift into reverse and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. Dust filled the air and gravel flew up around the tires as the pickup shot backward.
Dee ran up to Cody. “What’s going on?” she said, staring after Shane’s truck as it wove through the parking lot. “Where’s he going?”
“Who in blazes knows,” Cody snapped, throwing up his hands. “Probably back to the ranch.”
