Never Kiss a Cowgirl, page 9
Rickie opened the front door and came out to help her with the cake, and her presence meant Asher was indeed inside. “Hey, I didn’t get to talk to you much the other day. How are you?”
“I’m good. Working and going to school keep me busy, but I’m enjoying my freedom. Are you enjoying being back?” Rickie walked in as she held the door for her. The front room was full of guys in clean jeans and ironed plaid shirts. None of them were Asher.
“I’ve been so busy settling in there hasn’t been too much time for fun.” She followed Rickie into the kitchen, and she thought of all the memories that centered around Frida cooking at the big stove. This had been her refuge when she needed a break from everyone and everything. “Hey, Frida. I hope that cake is big enough.”
“Once they eat a steak the size of their head, they go easy on the dessert. Sit and have a glass of wine. Dinner’s almost ready and we’re eating outside at the big table.”
Her father had built a large patio outside to fit the table he and Asher had made from an old fallen cypress tree on the property. It was massive and sat thirty people easily, and they’d been so proud of the finished product she could remember their smiles. The pits on the edge of the space were big enough to accommodate feeding steaks to that many people. If she’d grown up to be a vegetarian, her father would’ve written her out of his will.
“Hey,” Wade said, hugging her like it only meant something special if her feet came off the ground. “I’m happy you’re here, and I hope you’re hungry.”
“Thanks for calling,” she said, kissing his cheek. “And we both know it should’ve been me who apologized.”
“Let’s sit and eat, and afterward we’ll go for a walk. I’ll explain later why you should stop apologizing.”
The dinner was so like all the others she’d sat through in the years she’d lived on the ranch. The people who worked for Uncle Wade and her father never changed. They were hardworking, easygoing, and fiercely loyal—the old phrase what you see is what you get was coined for ranch hands, and it was refreshing.
Of course people sometimes did put up walls to protect the secrets they had. It was those secrets that prevented anyone from truly knowing who they were. A great example of that was Steph and her need to keep her options open.
She helped Rickie, Frida, and a couple of the guys bring all the dishes in, but Uncle Wade waved her out before she could start putting them in the dishwasher. “Come on,” he said. He headed through the barn and to the pastures beyond it. There were cows sitting in clusters while some of the calves still ran around despite the hour. The little ones had always been her favorites on the ranch, and she remembered Asher teasing her about it.
“I know what you said,” she said and held her hand up when he started to say something. “Me leaving the way I did wasn’t fair to you, and the way I acted isn’t something I’m proud of. For all of that I’m sorry.”
“It might come as a shock to you, sweetheart, but not even you get every situation right. That’s a lesson your dad and I learned real quick, and the fact that you never completely learned that one should be the thing you remember about this conversation.” He walked along the fence line and jingled the change in his pocket. “We’re your family, we’re always going to be family, and nothing you do or don’t do is going to change that.”
“I meant what I said.” She took his hand and loved the rough calluses she could feel. “I’m taking on a new assignment, and if I’m lucky, it’ll give me more time to spend out here.”
“Good.” Wade stopped and fanned himself with his hat. “I mentioned before about the decisions we have to make.”
“Are you okay?” If he was sick, she didn’t think she could handle it.
“No, nothing like that.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “I want to start taking some time off, so how would you feel about selling off some of the land? I’m not saying selling off the whole thing, but enough that we can run a smaller operation.”
“You and Daddy worked so hard to accumulate all this land, and now you want to sell it?” She would’ve been less shocked if he’d said that he wanted to take up drag. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“If you don’t want to sell, we won’t, but last year I started to downsize the herd. For now I’m keeping all the full-timers on staff but not bringing on the seasonal guys.” He stared out into the darkness like he could see for miles. “The cattle I bought recently were to maintain the reduced numbers.”
“I’m not saying to change your plans, Uncle Wade. That you even started thinking retirement shocks me.” She squeezed his hand and stopped him from taking another step. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m old, Reagan, not sick.” He laughed, just like her father’s laugh. It was both comforting and saddening.
“Good, and I can see your point. This place is nothing but hard work, and I’m sure after years of it, you’re ready for some downtime.”
Wade shook his head and put his arm around her again. “I love the work, the land, and what we do. Frida, though, isn’t going to wait around forever to see some of the places she’s got on her bucket list.” His smile made him appear younger and happier.
“You and Frida? Really?” She glanced up at him and laughed. Her dad had given up that part of himself when her mother left, always saying he didn’t have time. Maybe if he’d had someone at home aside from her waiting for him, he’d have quit sooner.
“Sometimes you think too much,” Wade said, tapping the side of her head as if he could see every thought in there. “Thinking is overrated when doing is so much better.”
“I’m happy for you. I love Frida and I love you, so I’m happy you two figured it out.” They started walking again, and she enjoyed the heat that lingered after the sun had set. Summertime on the ranch wasn’t for the faint of heart, but she loved the quietness that surrounded them, like they were in their own little world where nothing bad could touch them.
“It takes us Wilsons ages to see what’s right in front of us sometimes, but we get it eventually. I noticed Frida a long time ago, but she keeps telling me she’s not the marrying kind. That first guy put her through the seven levels of hell, so I’m happy she loves me.” He shrugged, and she could see the kind of life he wanted from the tone of his voice.
Frida might not have been the marrying kind, but Wade was. It might be too late for a family, but there was no reason they couldn’t make each other happy until the day one of them died. Hell, it was the same thing she wanted, only she had yet to find it.
“Frida’s a smart woman, so she’ll come around eventually. As a card-carrying member of the Wilson family, I know for sure we’re hard to resist.”
“Next time, then, bring your friend. I know you have one, and it’ll be nice to show her where you come from.”
It made her laugh to think of Steph on the farm in her nice suits and Italian leather shoes. Getting manure on those would send her into a tizzy. “Let’s start by getting me used to being back here first, and we’ll work up to that. I did have a good time tonight, so thanks for that.”
“We’re going to prove to you that coming home is a good thing.”
“I think I figured that one out all by myself.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Uncle Wade. Never forget that.”
Chapter Eight
Saturday came before Asher was ready for it, and she stood in the shower trying to enjoy the hot water beating down her back. The event Red had put together supposedly at the last minute was actually something he’d been working on for over a year, and she’d somehow missed it. The Superdome was an ambitious place to start what Red said would be an annual event.
Wade had been happy to tell her the event was sold out, and not only that—all the tickets sold in two hours. According to him there were plenty of locals ready to see their homegrown star shine. The only upside to the whole thing was that a win with enough points could potentially move her into first place, especially since her main rival—Tyler Wheeler—would be competing.
Tyler was never outright ugly to her, but she knew his thoughts on her success. Life according to the great Mr. Wheeler was that women belonged in the kitchen so dinner would be on the table when he got home. If he had his way, her only role going forward would be one of spectator and not competitor.
“Hopefully tonight I can serve you up a big crap pie when I take this.” She dried off and put on her lucky jeans, rodeo boots, and a dark blue shirt with plenty of sponsor logos on it.
She was driving herself since Wade, Frida, and the rest of the guys were all going together. Wade would make his way down to her once he had them all settled, and in a way, she was happy this was so close to home. She was psyched to do well. It wasn’t often Frida and the others were able to come and see her since the ranches couldn’t be left unattended. The doorbell rang as she put her wallet in her front pocket and grabbed the keys from the bowl in the kitchen.
“Hey,” was all she was able to say before Jaqueline stepped into her arms and kissed her.
“You look good enough to eat, and I’m in the restaurant business so I should know.” Jacqueline kissed her again and palmed her ass.
“Don’t get me all worked up right before this thing.”
“Come on, let me give you a ride, and if you win, I’ll let you give me a ride,” Jacqueline said and winked.
They drove into the city after she’d put all her equipment in the trunk. Jacqueline drove like someone whose sister was about to marry a detective who could fix any ticket she could ever get, and Asher figured riding the bulls was somewhat less exciting.
“Good luck, and I’ll be in the stands with Wade and the group. Make us proud.” Jacqueline kissed her one last time before she let her off at the back of the Dome close to dozens of horse trailers.
“Thanks, and if I haven’t mentioned it, I’m glad you’re here.”
Tyler was watching her from the large roll door, shaking his head when she came closer. He was truly the quintessential chauvinist. “Do you drug these women to go out with you?”
“I believe that’s your dating strategy, so no.” She shook her head trying to dispel the urge to punch him in the face for saying something like that in a joking manner. “Jacqueline is a friend, and extra incentive to beat your ass.”
“Come on, Evans, I was joking. I know I’m an ass, but I’m not disrespectful to women.”
“Last time I checked, I’m a woman,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“You’re Asher Evans,” he said, shrugging. “That’s different, so I don’t really see you like that beautiful woman who dropped you off. You’re more of a rider with the big boys, so live with it.”
They laughed together and shook hands. Despite all his faults, she and Tyler had formed a tentative friendship that would only blossom if he changed his attitude. But first, one of them would need to retire so the competition between them could die down. Their conversation tonight made her think he might have a learning curve after all.
“Come on, they’re drawing lots. With any luck we’ll be close together so the judges can see this is a man’s sport.”
“Or that you ride like a girl, you mean?” So much for learning curve. The other men around them laughed and it stopped Tyler from saying another word.
They stood around, waiting for the draw, and Asher could already hear the crowd. There’d be a few competitions before bull riding, so she sat in one of the comfortable chairs the sponsors had set up and closed her eyes. Meditation, she’d found, relaxed her and allowed her to mentally go through the steps she’d have to complete to win. Someone put their hand on her shoulder what seemed like a minute later, and it was Wade.
“You ready, Buck? It’s time to give the folks a show and impress that nice girl you invited.” Wade handed her the rope she’d need and her gloves. She glanced at the scoreboard, and Tyler was leading with a ninety-two. “You should bring her to dinner.”
“Let’s not throw her into Frida’s deep end just yet. Hell, we haven’t even figured out what this is. Right now we’re just having fun.”
“Frida’s already up there, giving her an earful. Nothing bad, so try to concentrate on the bulls and not your love life at the moment.”
She put on her safety jacket and hat before following him to the chutes. The black bull inside was shaking his head and pawing the ground like he was trying to dig his way out. “Thanks, Uncle Wade. See you in a bit.”
She climbed to the top as the rodeo workers wrapped her rope around the bull’s chest. That seemed to perk him up like someone had poked him in the ass with an electric prod. She waited for the right time and climbed on. The worker held the rope up as she moved her hand up and down her customary ten times, tightening each time she slid her hand up.
It hit her then that there wouldn’t be that many events before Vegas. It was going to be hard to let go of this part of her life—the adrenaline, the crowds, and the chess game between her and the bulls she drew to ride. It wasn’t time to concentrate on that just yet, and she moved forward and clenched her legs to make sure she wasn’t thrown off as the chute opened.
The crowd noise was amazing, but she shut it all out and threw her arm up. After whipping to the left followed quickly by a buck to the right, the damn bull came completely off the ground. Their landing jarred her entire body, and she was glad she was wearing a mouth guard—if her teeth had had the chance to smash together, she’d have chipped a tooth.
Her right bicep was burning from the strain of hanging on until the buzzer that came what felt like an hour later. She waited for the best window to dismount and had to jump clear of the damn bull before he gored her. He did end up bumping her on the shoulder before she was able to get away from him.
She tipped her hat to the crowd and went through the gate as the clowns had a hard time getting the bull out and into the holding pen. He’d be ready to go again in a bit, and hopefully he’d be someone else’s problem. Wade was waiting, but her score was announced before he could say anything.
“Asher Evans, ladies and gentlemen.” The crowd started clapping when the number came up. “Highest score so far. Evans for ninety-six, everyone.”
“Your shoulder okay?” Wade asked as soon as she was close enough to hear him.
“My bicep was about to snap trying to hold on, but I’m okay. Two more rounds to go and I can hit the hot tub.” She followed him back to the chairs and accepted Tyler’s handshake before she sat.
“Good ride, Evans. I’ll take you in the next round.” He slapped her on the back and went back to his manager.
“There’s something about that guy that chaps my ass,” Wade said, his eyes on Tyler’s back. “Your form is good, but be careful on the dismount. Red screwed everyone by throwing in one more chance for you all to get hurt before the championships.”
“This purse, though, will go a long way toward paying for the hay barns I had planned for the property.” The ooh the crowd let out probably meant someone did something that was cringeworthy. When the medical team ran by with a stretcher, they all got up and went to the gates. It was hard to see the guy lying there, not moving, with blood on his face. “Where in the hell did Red find these bulls? It’s like they injected them with something that made them killers.”
“He does love to put on a show,” Wade said, “and part of that is carrying someone out on a stretcher. Red is successful, but he’s a bastard.” Wade put his arm on her shoulder. “Just take care out there, Buck. I got a bad feeling about this one.”
The crowd gave the injured man a standing ovation, and there was a slight intermission while they reset the arena and took the bull out of the rotation. Her second ride after Tyler resulted in a score of ninety-four, a point higher than his. She was in the lead, but it was slim. There was another forty-minute break before she had her last ride, and another rider was taken out by the medics, only this time the man was conscious.
“Make this one count,” Wade said, and she nodded.
Her bad luck was drawing the same bull from the first round, and it seemed like he remembered what the hell was about to happen and was a wild thing in the chute. The workers had a hard time getting the rope around his chest, but she waited patiently at the top of the chute trying to concentrate. Getting her legs jammed up against the sides would be an invitation to join her two friends in the emergency room.
“Remember, hang on and think ninety-two,” Wade yelled, and she only nodded.
The bull let out what sounded like a scream before he bucked back and slammed the back of the chute with enough force to bend the metal sheet that made up the wall. That was the distraction the workers needed to get ready for Asher to climb on. When the animal bucked back again, she climbed on as his feet hit the ground. She squeezed her legs and pressed the heels of her boots to his side to get the rope taut, this time going through her ritual a little faster than normal.
“Ready, Asher?” the rodeo worker asked.
She bit down on her mouth guard and nodded. The sweat running and pooling at the small of her back made her crave a shower, but that would have to wait until this was over. As always, the beginning of any ride made her hyperaware of every sensation in her body. Her scalp itched from the flood of adrenaline, her fingers were tight in the rope, and her other hand was sweating in the leather glove that once belonged to Silas. Silas always said all of it was a sign that she was alive, ready, and aware of what she had to accomplish.
