Never Kiss a Cowgirl, page 8
“Like I keep telling you, Buck. Shit has a way of working out. Now get in and let’s go rile up them bulls of yours.”
Chapter Seven
Asher strapped on the practice helmet and zipped up the flak jacket that would protect her torso if one of the bulls got his hooves on her. She had two ranch hands on bull duty, Connor Young on chute duty, and Austin Theriot in the practice arena to lure the bull back to the holding pen when she jumped clear. As always Wade was sitting in the spot she’d constructed for him that was an approximation of where the judges sat in competition.
“Ready, boss?” Connor asked when she got the rope around the big black bull with the short horns.
“Open it up,” she said with a nod of her head. It was a struggle to stay on the entire time since the damn bull seemed to be on steroids. She didn’t need Wade shaking his head when she headed back to the chute to let her know that was a piss-poor ride.
“Were you trying to rile him up, kicking your legs up like that?” Wade asked. “You haven’t done that since you were eighteen.”
“I think Connor shocked him with a prod before I climbed on,” she said, making a rude hand gesture. Wade laughed it off. “Let’s try that again, and put Bub back in the lineup after a few rides. He’s worse than Bo the Third, and my teeth still hurt from that son of a bitch.”
Connor laughed and gave her a thumbs-up. By the time she got five good rides in, she was exhausted but ready to do it again the next day. “Thanks, guys. You can line up the others for tomorrow around the same time. We have a little over four months to get ready for a month’s worth of back-to-back competitions before the championships.”
“You got it, and we’ll run the skimmer around the arena and take all those divots out. If you don’t need us for anything, we’ll head out to the new pasture and get some more dirt work done,” Austin said.
The phone rang loud from the speaker it was connected to. Wade waved her off as he headed into the barn to answer it. Whoever it was didn’t stay on the line very long, and Wade crooked his finger at her. She took off all the safety equipment and handed it over to Connor to place in the barn. Whatever this was, she hoped he remembered his promise to keep some distance between him and Reagan.
“Who was that?” she asked, accepting her hat back.
“That was Red,” Wade said, scratching the side of his head.
Henry Bird—Red—was the biggest promoter on the rodeo circuit responsible for the larger events around the country and was slowly introducing the sport in Europe. You didn’t get very far if you made an enemy of him, but the old guy was so charming it was hard to find someone who didn’t like him. He’d been a big fan of hers from the time Silas introduced them, and he’d been encouraging her from the sidelines for years.
“If he’s calling now, there has to be something he wants.” Red was famous for the small favors he asked, at times reminding her of a real-life Tom Sawyer. You’d end up paying to paint Red’s house, thinking it was your idea by the time you were finished with the second coat.
“He said Louisiana is one of his last frontiers as far as a premier event, so he’s been working on something for the last eight months. It wasn’t until the advertisements started to go out that he realized you weren’t on the roster.” Wade put both his hands up. “And don’t shoot the messenger.”
“I didn’t put my name on the roster because I wanted to take some time off.”
The way Wade was frowning was starting to give her a headache. “You might not have a choice, Buck. The only way to make this a success was to make it count toward the rankings. If you skip it, it could knock you out of contention, depending on the scores the big hitters post.”
“Say what you will about Red, he’s a sly bastard. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” She had four days to get ready to face the guys who’d love to knock her down quite a few pegs, putting the championship out of her reach.
“Think of how big your cheering section will be for this one. I doubt Frida, Rickie, and all your guys and mine will sit this one out.” He put his arm around her shoulders and smiled. “Come on, I’ll put some steaks on the grill and have Frida bake you a chocolate cake to soften the blow of missing out on your vacation time.”
She took a shower and put on a pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt, and drove with Rickie over to Moon Touch. The dinner was nice, reminding her of old times, but after chocolate cake she excused herself with a kiss to Frida’s cheek. The drive to the same spot Wade took her to earlier didn’t take long, and she headed to the top of the levee so she could sit on the truck bed and watch the boats pass by.
One of the things she used to do with her father was to make up stories about where the big freighters were going and what treasures they carried. She could hear the soft mooing and the crickets, and it was like nothing much had changed in all the years she’d lived and loved this land. There were four large ships heading out of the New Orleans port, and from their drafts, they were loaded down. The sight made her think of Jaqueline and how far away she was.
“The West Coast is different but beautiful. Even though that’s true, I still missed this spot.”
It was strange to recognize Reagan’s voice right off even if she hadn’t heard it in years. It didn’t affect her like it once did, but in a strange way she couldn’t be upset with the intrusion because Reagan belonged here. That was probably the last thing Reagan thought—Reagan had outgrown them all but especially her.
“I’m not sure that’s true.” She didn’t raise her voice and didn’t turn around. “You haven’t been interested in your uncle or anyone else here. Or did you only miss the ranch?”
“Asher.” Reagan said her name like she had the night before, and her tone held something she couldn’t figure out. “I can understand you’re mad, but we were friends. I’d like to be that again.”
“You’re right.” The urge to leave was strong, but she was tired of being accommodating to this woman. She’d gone out of her way to make Reagan a priority, giving her what she wanted and needed, and all that got her was a kick in the teeth. “We were friends.”
“That sounds like past tense,” Reagan said as she sat next to her. It was odd that Asher hadn’t heard a car. This was a ways to get to by foot. “I can’t blame you for being mad.”
“I’m not angry, and nothing has changed. You weren’t hard to understand, and I know what you wanted.” She glanced at Reagan and she was still beautiful. “If you think I’m going to punish you for that, you still don’t know me well.” It was a dig at how Reagan had punished her for the things Asher wanted and Reagan couldn’t accept.
“Still riding, huh?” Reagan said and laughed.
“Still riding, so I’m still brainless.” She hopped down and faced Reagan. “Can I drop you somewhere? It’s not safe to walk around here at night.”
“The nearest person for ten miles is you.” Reagan jumped down as well and brushed off her jeans.
“True, but the bulls are grazing around here somewhere. Walking across their path is riskier than riding them.” She opened the door to the passenger side and waited. Her begging days were over.
“I’m parked by the road,” Reagan said. “I didn’t want to bother everyone, and I didn’t call ahead.”
“Uh-huh.” She knew she sounded like a fool, at least to Reagan, but she couldn’t help it. “Is that you?”
The small SUV sat in the dark, and she tapped her finger on the steering wheel of the truck to keep from saying anything else as she stared straight ahead at the Washington State license plate. In a way it was like a gigantic billboard that said I left your butt behind and along the way I outgrew your country bumpkin ass. The damn thing didn’t even have to be spelled out in neon for her to get the message.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“See you around.” She started driving before Reagan had the chance to close the door. Forgiveness might be good for the soul, but Reagan had damaged hers. Damaged things didn’t work the way they were supposed to, but she still wasn’t proud of her behavior. Frida had taught her that no one could be forced to love another person. It was the best answer she had when she’d asked herself why she hadn’t been enough.
Her ringing phone stopped her spiral down the snake hole of her thoughts. “Hi, pretty lady.”
“Are you sure you aren’t interested in the restaurant business? You could come out here and we could do naked bookkeeping.” Jacqueline had a talent for making her laugh. “You know I don’t do over-the-top sappy, but I miss you and thought you should know that.”
“I keep telling you—it’s not sappy if it’s mutual. I miss you too, and the cows did look a little down when I rode out there by myself this morning.” She went along the long road back to the house, wanting Jacqueline’s voice in her ear and the cloak of darkness. “Tell me you’re not still working.”
“Afraid so, cowpoke. The only good news so far is the steaks were a hit. I didn’t freeze them, but packing them tight with ice on the top and bottom got a little messy. You were right about the frozen packs.” Jacqueline obviously had a small threshold of sap in her and it was back to business.
“I’ll think of something so you don’t spend a fortune overnighting every package.” She stopped at the fence line leading up to the house and studied the area. They were isolated out here, but there was a lot of gang activity less than twenty miles from them, so they took turns riding the property at night.
“Enough about that. Why are you riding around this late?”
She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “I had dinner with Wade, Frida, and Rickie. I stopped at the levee on the way home and ran straight into my past. Got clobbered over the head with it, and you weren’t there to run interference for me.”
“Darling, you have to remember one important thing.” Jacqueline sounded soft, sincere, and so very far away.
“What’s that?”
“Sometimes the past is a road you have to finish walking before you can head into the future. Della is a big fan of unburdening the heart so there’s only room for the one person you’re meant to be with.” Jacqueline laughed and it brightened her mood. “You should listen to my grandmother—she’s a wise woman.”
“Della is wise, and she’s also scary when she wants to be. You know I hate talking about my past, but I think I owe you a conversation about it.” She stared at the house and the section the construction crew was working on now.
The small house her father had built had needed work after sitting empty so long, and she’d expanded on the original footprint. She’d decided on an Acadian-style house with a wraparound porch and the same green additions she’d put in the barn. Gia had done a great job on all the projects she’d taken on.
“I’ve got time now, so tell me whatever you want to.”
She tried to bleed the emotion out of the story she told, like she had with Wade. The arguments she’d had with Reagan about the way she wanted to live her life, the things she wanted to try, and the rodeo. She’d been a kid who wanted to run a ranch and had learned plenty about how to go about it. Bull riding and the rodeo had been the ticket to getting it done.
“So she blamed the rodeo for killing her father,” Jacqueline said. “Then you tell her you want the same thing.”
“I did, and that was that. She left for school, came home two years later, then disappeared again.” She stopped, not wanting to sound whiny. “All I want now is for Uncle Wade to build a relationship with her, and for her to be open to that. He deserves that and so much more.”
“Listen to me, okay,” Jacqueline said softly. “Everyone does what they can to survive. How you go about it doesn’t always make sense to another person, but you can’t prosecute their actions because they don’t fit the scenario you want.”
“Forgive and forget, huh?”
“Don’t ever forget, honey, but maybe think about it from her perspective. I’m selfishly not telling you to start over from where you left off, but letting all that go will make you enjoy the distance you’ve come since then.”
“You might not believe me, but I have let that go.” She got that great laugh out of Jacqueline again, and it was like winning something big. “I know you can’t make it, but tell Della if she wants some rodeo action, Red put something together for next week in the Dome. I’ll get her and Mackie some tickets if they’re interested.”
“Who says I can’t make it?”
“Don’t leave work, and trust me, if I could skip it, I would. The old bastard made it mandatory for everyone by making it count toward the final scores. It’s one more I’ll have to add to my list, but at least after that I’ll still have almost four months off.” She pulled under the open carport and walked out to the barn. There was a bucket of carrots by the large open doors, and she grabbed a handful and walked the stalls. Albert the piglet had his head out before she reached him.
“What if I want to?” Jacqueline sounded like a woman you didn’t want to disagree with. “I need a break from this place every so often. When people tell me how hard it is to open a place in New Orleans, I’m going to call bullshit when you compare it to the Vegas Strip. Plus a rodeo event gives me the excuse to wear jeans.”
“I’ll send you some VIP tickets, so let me know who’s coming.” She tapped her phone against her chin when she hung up, happy Jacqueline could maybe make it, but her mind hadn’t completely cleared of Reagan. “Forgetting her should be as easy as jumping off a bull.” All she had to do was take care that she was clear of danger before she made the leap.
* * *
Kendra helped Reagan with the elderly man with the pain threshold of an infant who’d had a hip replacement. Getting him to stand and walk had become a major undertaking. He really wasn’t the usual client they got, but he thought that since it was a sports clinic, he’d get to talk to all the Saints players. There was plenty the team was doing wrong, and he was dying to tell them how to fix it.
“Okay, Mr. Fletcher, up we go,” Reagan said as she pulled on the assistance strap around his chest. “Remember to find your balance before you start walking.”
“Girl, I’ve been walking a hundred years before you were born. You think I don’t know how to do it?” He yanked away from her, fell into his wheelchair, and started a streak of cursing. “You pushed me down. What kind of animal are you? I demand you get the team out here so I can tell them about the mistreatment I’ve had to experience.”
“Mr. Fletcher,” she said with as patient a voice as she could muster. “Sir, if you could calm down, we can get through this.” Reagan laughed and shook her head, then said to Kendra, “You’re doing this to me because I keep leaving early when we go out, aren’t you.”
“You’re the newbie, so you get some of our more problem children,” Kendra said softly.
“Is there anyone more problematic than Mr. Fletcher?”
“No, he’s the truest pain in the ass we have, so you’re lucky that way.” Kendra pulled Mr. Fletcher back up and put his walker within reach. “Once we’re done with Mr. Fletcher, I need to talk to you.”
“Anything wrong?” She’d been lucky there’d been an opening when she applied since the Riverbend Sports Clinic was exactly what she was looking for in a job.
“No, you’re doing a great job even if Mr. Fletcher doesn’t agree. It’s just an opportunity I think you’d be great for.”
They worked together to finish with Mr. Fletcher, who kept insisting they produce the football players who were obviously hiding in the office. Once the assisted living center came and got him, she and Kendra went to her office with their last coffees of the day. The clinic closed in thirty minutes, and she was due to drive out to Moon Touch and have dinner with Frida and Uncle Wade again. It’d been a week since their last awkward meal, so they’d all agreed to try again. She’d made a deal with herself to try to relax around her family, and to stay away from Asher if she spotted her again.
“The owners started a program a year ago for certain high-profile clients. Instead of them coming to us, we go to them. Usually, clients like that have home gyms and do better in the environment they feel comfortable in, especially if it means they can avoid people like Mr. Fletcher. Cindy Eastman usually takes these cases, but she’s on an extended maternity leave, so I thought you might want to give it a shot.”
“When you say high-profile, what exactly do you mean?” Like Mr. Fletcher, she wouldn’t mind working with the town’s professional teams. The right connection could land her a full-time job with the team, patrolling the sidelines. That’s not what she’d wanted when her career path started out, but a little taste of it in Seattle changed her mind about that.
“Pro athletes, college players, and some high school standouts. There’s plenty of business to go around, and I think those clients are the best clients to deal with, since they put in the work, minus all the whining.” Kendra pulled out a few files to make some notes. “So can I count on you?”
“Definitely,” she said, smiling. “Do you mind if I cut out a little early? I’m having dinner with Uncle Wade and Frida tonight and wanted to stop and get dessert.”
“After Mr. Fletcher you deserve to come in late tomorrow as well, but don’t push it.”
Reagan drove to Whole Foods and picked up an Italian cream cake before heading home to change. Uncle Wade had called her a few times after their lunch to check on her and to say he didn’t care for how it’d ended. She was the one who had to apologize, and Uncle Wade was so kind that she wanted to keep trying until she got it right.
There was enough daylight when she was close to the ranch to see the big cows she’d discovered the week before, and close to those were the cutest cows she’d ever come across. They reminded her of her favorite cookies, and she wanted to have a conversation with Uncle Wade about all the new breeds he was introducing to the ranch. The house had a few cars in the drive, and she remembered that Friday meant Frida was cooking for not only the family but the ranch hands as well. It was possible Asher was in there since technically she still worked at the ranch even if she was a rodeo star.
