Rodeo Nights (17 page)

“Hmm.” He stretched both long legs out in front of him, balanced on the thin top tube by his rump and his hands.

“It might be worth it to go naked, then.”

That image burned in her mind. And, Lord, wouldn’t
that
go over great in New York.

“Hey, be careful,” she scolded, her other emotions funneling into irritation as he theatrically teetered on the rail.

Instinctively, she reached out to steady him. He responded by twisting to wrap a large hand around each of her arms. For an instant they hung there, looking at each other, caught between laughter and something more flammable. Then gravity tugged and they had no choice—to avoid falling, they had to jump.

Walker landed first, and half guided, half caught her as her feet met the thick, loose dirt of the arena.

It seemed so natural for his hands to slide up to her shoulders, for her hands to slip from his waist around to where her palms felt the smooth, long muscles of his back through his shirt.

The heat enveloped her. His heat.
Their
heat.

She acknowledged that as she took the full impact of his hungry stare. He didn’t mask the wanting. But was he aware of what she knew down to her bones? That if he kissed her now, they would take the final, dizzying step from the past to the present. And there would be no telling how much of the past, how many of its problems, how many of its griefs would come with them.

Worse, so much worse, there would be no telling what new problems they would face in the present.

She couldn’t do it.

She released him and stepped back.

Still watching her, Walker took another six heartbeats, then slid his hands over her shoulders and down her arms before they dropped to his side.

I’m not ready yet.

For an instant, when the blue of his eyes flared brighter, she wondered if she’d spoken aloud. Then every other thought was swamped as she recognized the import of inevitability her words held.

“I’ve got to get back,” she blurted.
Back to the way she’d thought when the summer started, back to when her heart hadn’t been in such danger
. “To the office. Help Roberta.”

She turned on her heel, barely noticing his curt nod as he started across the open arena in the opposite direction. She climbed the fence in record time and was nearly to the office before she considered the foolhardiness of subjecting herself to Roberta’s eagle eyes right now.

An about-face and a snaking path between two stock pens and around the concession stand helped. She started a second circuit, away from the office and toward the arena, then took a left between the pens.

“Hey, Kalli.”

She spun around at the greeting, and Jasper Lodge retreated a step. His hand flapped toward the office. “Uh, Roberta said I’d find you here. She said it was okay to come on out.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Kalli had her reaction under control immediately. Jasper’s face clearly said that this was business. “You just startled me. It’s good to see you, Jasper. How’s Esther?”

“Fine, just fine.” His tone didn’t match the words. And her abrupt reaction to his arrival didn’t explain his unwillingness to meet her eyes. “Uh, maybe we’d better call Walker over here.”

She raised her eyebrows, but before she could say that she could handle whatever needed handling—and it looked bad from Jasper’s behavior—he continued, “Call him over here, too, so I can talk to the both of you at once.”

And get it over with.

The implication was so strong in Jasper’s manner that be might as well have said the words.

Kalli turned to where Walker now sat on the fence at the far side of the ring, and wondered if she would be heard over the noise. But Walker had spotted them. Almost as if he’d been waiting for her to turn to him, he jumped from the fence and started across the center.

Jasper headed toward the arena, leaving her no choice but to follow. They stopped at the fence, waiting for Walker.

“Hey, Jasper. How’re you?”

As Jasper mumbled a reply, Walker started over the fence, right next to where Kalli stood.

At the top, he paused. She looked up, and. he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

A warning? A comfort? Kalli didn’t know. Her hand reached to cover his, an instinctive response she stopped short. In the next instant, he released her and dropped down beside Jasper outside the fence, all in one motion.

“Now, Jasper, what’ve you got to tell us?”

“...SO YOU SEE
why Park needs the Park Rodeo to be running at a certain level. To be something we can count on, the businessmen, the whole community. I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but I’m the chairman and I’m the one who’s got to say it.”

“We understand, Jasper,” Walker said.

Kalli wondered at his ease. She’d been in tough negotiations, but never one whose outcome meant any more to her than money and some prestige. This was different, and she’d had to fight to keep from cutting Jasper short, despite knowing the benefit of letting the other person have his say.

“And we’re not hiding that the rodeo started off the season in some red ink,” Walker went on. “We’re working on remedying that, and we’re making progress. But if that’s what’s worrying you folks, we understand, and I’ll have the committee’s lawyer write up something saying I’ll personally guarantee the rodeo’s finances.”

Kalli stared at Walker hard, wishing she could read in his face the state of his bank account. Buying his spread and doing all that building must have cost a good bit. How much could he have won on the rodeo circuit? Would he have to mortgage his land? Mortgage his future?

But Jasper had started shaking his head before Walker half finished his proposal.

“That’s not the sticking point, Walker. Think about it and you’ll see. Sure, the Park Rodeo needs to run on solid financial ground, but there’s not a member on the committee, not a...” He flicked a look at Kalli. “Uh, not a businessperson in town who doesn’t believe it’ll come around. And who doesn’t know and appreciate what Jeff did.”

He shook his head again, but this time in sad recognition that things weren’t always fair. Only after he heaved a deep sigh did Jasper go on.

“It’s ticket sales we need. It’s pulling in folks from other towns, other states, other countries, even. If you’re selling tickets to those folks, they’ll also be in town paying for motel rooms, gassing up their cars, feeding their kids, buying postcards and souvenir dish towels and—”

“Westernwear clothes?” Kalli couldn’t keep an edge out of her voice.

Jasper met her look. “Sure, and buying clothes at Lodge’s. I got a business, Kalli. I don’t need the tourists as much as some, but I don’t want to risk losing those dollars, either.”

“I’m sorry. Jasper. That was—”

He waved it off. “It’s natural. You’re fightin’ for what’s important to you.”

“You’re right. It is important to us. And to Jeff and Mary. So tell us what the rules are of this fight so we can get started.”

Kalli’s brusque approach didn’t seem to offend Jasper.

In fact, he looked relieved to state the situation in plain words.

“The committee agreed to let you two run the rodeo for this summer, and we’re sticking to that. But for the Jeffries Company to get the contract to produce the Park Rodeo next summer, it has to finish this season with higher ticket sales than last year. We need that growth for our community to keep growing. Hell, we need it to stay even.”

Kalli’s mind already grappled with the details.

“Whose figure is the committee going by on last year’s ticket sales?” she asked.

Jasper looked surprised. “We hadn’t gotten around to...Jeff’s, I guess. From the report he gave us after last season. It’s always audited, so those are the official numbers, I suppose.” His face brightened as he remembered one detail. “But the wording on our motion does say real specific that the
sales
have to be higher, not including tickets given away or anything.”

She nodded, two items marked off her mental list. “You said higher ticket sales— How much higher?”

“Now, that’s an interesting question.” He looked from Kalli to Walker and back, frowning. “Seems to me when we voted, we just said higher.”

“So one ticket more will do it.”

“Now, Kalli, I don’t rightly know if the committee will—’’

“If your committee passed a motion that simply said ‘higher,’ and that’s what you were told to relay to us, the committee can’t go changing the rules midstream.”

“But, I don’t know if the committee meant—”

“The committee should have considered what it meant before it voted. How would it reflect on the committee—and the town—if the story got out that you kept raising the ante?” Kalli guessed Jasper was thinking about all the positive publicity Walker and the rodeo had gotten lately, and worrying that she might generate as much negative publicity about him and the committee. Deliberately, she added another sting. “That would rank the committee right along with those sleazy loan sharks you read about.”

Jasper’s frown took on a pleading expression. Kalli stared back without giving an inch—or a ticket. He looked to Walker, clearly hoping for man-to-man sympathy. He got none.

“Kalli’s got the right of it, Jasper. All we need for higher ticket sales is one ticket more than last year.”

Jasper grumbled a curse under his breath, but Kalli didn’t think he was all that upset. He had the attitude of a chairman who recognized his committee had been willing to vote tough because he’d be left to do the dirty work.

“All right, you two. But you got to have that one more ticket!”

Kalli nodded calmly, hoping the gesture hid her convulsive swallow. “I’ll have Roberta type a summary of the points of this conversation, and Walker and I will sign it. It will be delivered to your office first thing in the morning, so there’s no question about the rules we’re working under.”

“That’s not neces—” Meeting her look, Jasper gave a deep sigh. “Okay. Afternoon, Kalli. Walker.”

But Kalli had an addendum. “One more thing, Jasper.”

He stopped a few feet away and turned. “Tell the committee members there will be no more free tickets for them or their guests.”

Jasper’s mouth dropped slightly, then shifted into a grin as he glanced at Walker. “You’ve got a tough one there, Walker. A right tough one.”

Kalli didn’t waste time wondering if she’d really heard a chuckle from Jasper Lodge as he headed off again. She watched him until he was surely out of earshot, then turned to Walker, who still leaned against the fence, apparently completely at ease.

“I can’t cite the exact figures without checking with Tina, but I know we’re behind last year’s overall,” she said. “It’s a question of how much.” She caught the corner of her lip in her teeth. “We have just over a month left. We have to—”

Silently, he held up a hand to stop her words. He looked at her hard, then deliberately turned. He rested his arms on the fence’s top rail, gazing into the arena.

Reining in the urge to hurry to the office and start
doing
something, anything, Kalli breathed slow and deep, then mimicked his pose as he had clearly intended her to.

The sun was starting to flirt with the heights to the west, bringing a brighter blush to the cinnamon peaks. A truck towing a horse trailer pulled in off the highway; a competitor arriving for the rodeo now two hours away.

A young barrel racer from Idaho, who Kalli had signed up earlier in the day to compete in Park for the first time, led her horse back toward the hodgepodge of trailers. Three cowboys, also newcomers to Park, stood by the exit, comparing horses and exchanging news and affectionate insults, while two of the youthful railbirds edged close enough to listen and see, but not near enough to be shooed away. Three more youngsters, in the absence of horses, galloped themselves around the arena, obviously dreaming of competing one day.

She felt her mouth lifting, not quite a smile, but an easing of the frown, and when she turned her head, she met a similar expression from Walker.

He’d just wanted to remind them both of what they were fighting to keep. He was a good man, and sometimes a wise one.

“Okay, Kalli. What’s the first step?”

She took a deep breath. “First, Roberta types up that summary, you and I sign it and we get it delivered to Jasper. Then, we make tonight’s rodeo the best we’ve had yet.”

He smiled at her, the one-sided smile that seemed so much a part of him now.

Still considering that, she wasn’t prepared when he bent his head, swooping in for a kiss—a quick, firm, pressing of his lips against hers—then straightened immediately, never taking his eyes off her.

The impulse to touch her fingers to her lips—to make sure he really had kissed her or to hold in the light caress?—was strong, but she resisted it.

Willing her voice to stay steady, she said, “Then Roberta and I will run some figures and see how far behind we are and what we need to do to top last year’s ticket sales. Then we get everybody together—Roberta, Gulch, Tina, the announcers, the stock hands, the ticket takers and everybody else we can think of—and we tell them what the situation is and that we need everybody’s help. And then we start looking for answers.”

He grinned, but something warmer sparked in his blue eyes and in his low voice when he said, “That’s my Kalli.”

HIS KALLI
.

On his porch, Walker braced a hand against the column and considered the lone light in the Jeffrieses’ ranch house below, ignoring the cool night air trying to work a chill in where he’d unbuttoned his shirt before coming out for a last look tonight.

The light came from the last bedroom on the right in the north wing. Kalli’s room.

They’d stayed at the office late, going over figures so they’d know where they stood when they met with the staff in the morning. The computer spit out numbers under Kalli’s competent fingers. Figures not as bad as they might have been, maybe, but not great.

They’d made up ground the past month, but not nearly enough to offset June’s losses. If they stayed at this pace for the rest of the season, they’d be real close. But close wouldn’t satisfy the committee. So Kalli would drive herself relentlessly to get those ticket sales high enough to keep the rodeo for Jeff.