Authors: Lorelei James
9
Even after the enlightening yet surreal conversation with her mother, Lainie was restless. Staring at the bare white walls of her apartment the next two days while Hank was in Omaha wasn’t an option. As she packed a bag, her cell phone rang. Lainie attempted to put a smile in her voice. “Hey, Tanna, how’s it going in Lubbock?”
“I finished top of the leaderboard in the first go.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Yeah, but it’s a two- day event and there’s no one cool to hang with since you’re not here. By the way, I finally ditched that asshole Steve. I can’t believe I wasted four months of my life on him.”
“Glad you finally saw the light, and you’ll get back to the wild Tanna I know and love.”
“We’ll see. Anyway, enough about me. Are you excited to start the new job?”
“No. I’m . . . done with Lariat.”
“What?”
Lainie began to explain calmly, but with all that’d happened in the last week, she lost it. She babbled about her mother, her future, her past, all her realizations in the past three weeks. When she took a breath, she realized Tanna hadn’t uttered a peep. “Sorry.”
She sniffled. “It just hit me all at once.”
“Where are you?” Tanna demanded.
“Getting ready to leave my apartment.”
“Stay put. If I leave right now, I can be there in eight hours.”
LORELEI JAMES 9
“No.” Lainie teared up again. “God, Tanna, I appreciate that you’d drop everything for me, but you’re in first place. This is a big rodeo with a big purse and you have to stay there and win it.”
“Fine. You don’t have a job. Drive down here. We’ll get shit-faced and act like total idiots. Then you can come home with me to the ranch for as long as you need to.”
She pressed her neck into the back of the couch. “I may take you up on that later. But there’s something I need to do first.”
“Girl, are you finally goin’ to Hank and letting him know how you feel?” She allowed a thoughtful pause. “Please tell me you called him about what happened with Lariat today.”
“Hank’s got enough to worry about. His first event with the EBS is this weekend.”
“Lainie, you know I love ya, but sometimes I wanna strangle you. Hank’s a big boy. He deserves to know.”
“I’ll tell him. I promise. Soon. Just not tonight. Tonight I have to do something I’ve been putting off for a long time.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Cheyenne.” Her cell phone beeped, signaling low battery.
“Look. I have a ways to drive and my phone is almost dead. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Tanna said grudgingly. “Drive safe.”
“I will.”
Lainie turned the phone off. She threw her bag in the back of her truck and lit out. As soon as she pulled back onto I- 25
north, she knew that this time there’d be no detours. No excuses.
No more running from the past. She’d face those demons head-on.
9
Hank paced. Unproductive, but it eased some of his rage. He’d promised Lainie he’d stick to their agreement of giving her time to
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think. He’d been doing pretty well, except for the ten times a day he picked up his phone to call her, only to remember at the last second that he shouldn’t.
The fact that Lainie hadn’t relayed this disturbing turn of events, that he’d had to hear it from Tanna again, chapped his ass.
Big- time.
Maybe she didn’t tell you because she knew how you’d react: huffing
and throwing your weight around like an out- of- control bull.
Worked for him.
He passed the T-shirt stand and the section overloaded with EBS everything. Belt buckles, neckerchiefs, posters, program guides, DVDs, CDs, even wispy lace thongs were displayed.
The EBS was big business.
The little slip of a secretary was no match for Hank. He bulled his way into Bryson Westfield’s traveling office in the back of an EBS logoed semi trailer.
Miz Bony Secretary cut in front of Hank and glared before directing her comments to her boss. “Sir, I’m sorry. He just blew right past me—”
“It’s all right. This man is damn near unstoppable, which is why he’s a fine bullfighter.” He gestured with his pen. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Yes, sir.” Her beaklike nose nearly brushed the floor, her head hung so low on her retreat.
Not that Bryson Westfield noticed. He shooed away the men wielding papers and didn’t speak until the door clicked shut behind them.
“Mr. Lawson. This is your first official EBS event, but it ain’t your first rodeo. Do I really need to detail what constitutes rude behavior?”
“No.”
LORELEI JAMES 9
“Good. Storming in here and bullying my secretary is unacceptable. You’d better have a damn good reason why you saw fit to make yourself my priority today.”
Inhale. Exhale. Stay fucking calm. Deep breath in. Long, slow breath
out.
“For the record, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention—”
“The road to hell and all that springs to mind, Hank, so get to the point. I’m a busy man.”
There’s still time to slink away. To back down. Do your job, collect a
paycheck, and smile like an idiot.
“Well?” Bryson demanded.
Buck up. But no half measures, no compromises in this situation.
Black and white. Right and wrong.
Hank threw back his shoulders and drew himself up to his full height. He stalked closer to the balding fat boy. “I’m here about Ace Newharth.”
“What about him?”
“I saw his name on the roster for this weekend. He’s still on the tour?”
Those flat black reptilian eyes turned appraising. “Yes, he is.
He’s a top- twenty- five- ranked bull rider and he deserves to be there. Why?”
“After what he did to Lainie Capshaw last week? You’re not reprimanding him?”
“What I choose to do or not to do with my bull riders is none of your concern. I handled it in the best way I saw fit.”
“Meaning you’re ignoring it,” Hank spat.
Bryson shrugged. “It’s her word against his. I’ve known Ace a long time. He’s a devout Christian man, with a loving family supporting him and a large fan base. I know nothing of this Lainie woman beyond that she expects the Capshaw name will grant her special privileges.”
He stared at Bryson, wondering when the man had gotten
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kicked in the head by a bull. Attempted sexual assault was a special privilege?
“This is typical reactive behavior for a female in a male-dominated sport. They get their little feelings hurt, or they send off mixed signals, or their advances are rebuffed and the next thing you know, they’re crying foul.” He pointed a fat finger at Hank.
“This is also why I told Doc not to send me female medical technicians. Did he listen to me? No. I’ve never once had to deal with sexual harassment shit like this when the staff and the riders were all men.”
Hank slapped his hands on the desk with enough force that his palms stung. “You ignorant son of a bitch. This is not about Lainie getting her feelings hurt. This is about that bastard putting the hurt on her. Ace left fucking bruises on her neck. Bruises. If Tanna Barker hadn’t come in . . .” Jesus. A red haze of fury consumed him when he considered what might’ve happened.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t speak to me like that—”
“We’re not talkin’ sexual harassment, Bryson. We’re talkin’ attempted sexual assault. Big fucking difference.”
“Says you. Might I remind you that Miz Capshaw didn’t file charges against Mr. Newharth?”
“She didn’t file at your request! She didn’t want the bad publicity any more than the EBS did. You promised her you’d handle it discreetly. Nothin’s been done. Except Lainie’s been penalized.
She’s been pulled from the EBS circuit permanently.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know.”
“The fuck you didn’t. I’ll bet this is your doin’. Ace hasn’t been penalized at all. This isn’t fair and you goddamn well know it.”
“Fairness is relative, and as far as I can tell the matter is over.”
“It’s far from fucking over,” Hank snarled. “You either drop him from this event—”
LORELEI JAMES 9
“Or you’ll what?” Bryson supplied sarcastically. “Hover over me and snarl idle threats?”
“No, I’ll let the bull he’s on stomp him into the dirt like the piece of shit he is. In fact, I’ll encourage it. I sure as hell won’t rush in and risk my life to save his.”
Bryson’s face turned beet red, but the fat folds in his jowls remained milky white lines. “Get out of my office. You’re done here.
For good. I’ll be pulling
your
name off the roster, not Ace’s.”
“Do it. And fair warning: You have no idea the shit storm that’s gonna rain down on you and the EBS when the media gets wind of this. The almighty EBS. The premier organization dedicated to the art of riding bulls turns its back on the only daughter of the most beloved bull rider of all time.”
Another piggy- eyed glare.
“Because of Jason Capshaw’s death, bull riders now wear safety equipment. Lainie Capshaw has centered her career around helping injured cowboys. In memory of her fallen father. Yet this organization failed to protect her— not from the bulls, but from the bull riders themselves. The very men she was hired to help.”
“Miz Capshaw didn’t want the media attention before—”
“It’s different now. She gave you her faith the EBS would do the right thing . . . and you gave her the finger. Her only recourse is to try this in the court of public opinion, and in the legal system.” He angled forward across the desk, invading his personal space. Bryson, the dickless wonder, flinched, causing Hank to grin.
“We both know she can still file charges against Ace. She can file charges against you and your organization for everything from conspiracy to discrimination to endangerment.”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Bryson seethed. “Your bullfighting days are over.”
“With the EBS? Good riddance. I’m damn happy to stay in the CRA, where honor and family and respect mean something.”
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“The beloved CRA, where a man is considered a real John Wayne for standing up for his little woman?”
“No, in the CRA a man doesn’t have to stand up for his woman, because the organization is already standing behind her. This assault never would’ve happened within the CRA.”
“Well, this ain’t the CRA.”
“Of that, there’s no doubt in my mind. Pretty soon it’ll be crystal clear in everyone else’s mind too.”
“Threats don’t work on me.”
“Yeah? Let’s test that theory, shall we?”
Hank spun on his boot heel and stormed out.
Halfway to his truck, he dialed directory assistance. “Connect me with United Airlines.”
$IBQUFS5XFOUZGJWF
9
$
heyenne looked far bigger than what the population sign indicated. The orange glow of the sodium lights along the four- lane interstate turned the black sky an abnormal shade of purple.
Lainie forced herself to uncurl her fingers from the steering wheel. Her knuckles were white. Her palms were scored with red marks from the death grip she’d maintained on the hard plastic since she’d hit the Wyoming state line.
The lights of the Warren Air Force Base blinked across the prairie. A dark, jagged outline of mountains loomed in the distance.
Several sizes of missiles were grouped together along the side of the road. The welcome to the “equality state” seemed appropriate.
She rounded a sloping corner on the interstate and there it was, Frontier Park. Carnival rides towered above the chain- link fence surrounding the park. Then everything disappeared behind rows and rows of trees.
No going back now.
She exited and followed the signs. Traffic was light this time of night. It didn’t take long to reach the big wooden sign hanging above the rodeo grounds, welcoming visitors to “The Daddy of
’Em All,” the Cheyenne Frontier Days rodeo.
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Her stomach was twisted in knots. Her mouth was as dry as the dust kicking up beneath her tires. Her heart whomped against her chest. A cold sweat— she’d never believed that phrase until just now— coated her skin. Her body trembled so hard her legs bounced of their own accord.
One step at a time.
As Lainie parked alongside the visitors’ building, she prayed they’d locked up for the night. Maybe if she stayed in the pickup, a cranky security guard would swing by and shoo her away. At least she could honestly say she tried.
Get out of the damn truck.
Why had she decided to make the pilgrimage to this place after all these years? Her father wasn’t here. His soul or spirit or whatever had moved on long ago. What remained of Jason Capshaw was the tragic legend, the reverence regarding his flawless bull riding style, and a memorial statue at the place where he died.
And you. You’re what’s left of him. You’re part of him.
Lainie pictured her grandmother Elsa’s sweet face and the fierce pride when she spoke of her son. Her sadness at losing him at such a young age. Her joy that she’d at least had Lainie as a reminder. Grandma had traveled all the way from Oklahoma for the unveiling of the statue the Cheyenne Frontier Days Booster Club had presented on the fifth anniversary of Jason Capshaw’s death.
Sharlene hadn’t attended the ceremony; nor had she allowed Lainie to attend.
People move on
, Sharlene had pointed out. Sharlene had said that a lot. Now Lainie knew why. Now she understood.
Lightning zigzagged across the sky. As soon as Lainie opened her door, a blast of dry air hit her, stealing her breath. She glanced at the sky again. No clouds.
Rain, dammit. Then I’d have an excuse to hide.
Gritting her teeth, she shoved her keys in her back pocket. She LORELEI JAMES 9
skirted the front end of the truck and followed the line of the fence until it ended. The gate was wide open. Lainie looked up.
There it was. Less than forty feet away.
A metal handrail circled the statue. The bronze was centered on a gigantic piece of sandstone, prominent in the spotlight. Even from this distance she could tell the detail was amazing on both the bull and the man.