Rodeo Nights (23 page)

Was it a lesson she hadn’t recovered from?

With his free hand, he stroked her hair. Whatever the reasons, whatever her motives, he knew his riding put a strain on the fragile emotional bonds they’d re-formed these past months. But he couldn’t
not
ride.

It was in him, it was who he was, it was what he wanted. Just as he knew he couldn’t stop wanting Kalli beside him like this. That, too, was in him, was who he was, was what he wanted.

He’d always known he wanted Kalli back, but never as much as these past weeks, having her at his side. The nights he stayed with her or the nights she came to his bed—even when they didn’t make love, sleeping with her warm and soft against him—had left no doubt. He loved her.

Again or still? It didn’t much matter.

Maybe they could get past this. Maybe, if nothing else frayed at those bonds, maybe if they had no added strain to bear, maybe then Kalli would stay this time.

And he could dream a little longer of a future.

KALLI PICKED UP
the sheet of paper from the seat of her chair—a perfect spot to make sure she didn’t miss it.

The paper had a clipping taped to it. The clipping stated an insurance company’s findings that statistically, driving qualified as more dangerous than competing in rodeo, even bull riding. Someone had underlined the last line.

Walker might have left it. Or possibly Gulch. But Kalli suspected Roberta.

It didn’t really matter, though.

She knew her fear was irrational. After all, Walker had been pursuing this occupation for years, with some injuries and scars, true, but no irreparable damage. None of that eased the hold that fear had on her. She couldn’t shake it.

She also couldn’t change his mind.

So, weren’t they back where they’d ended a decade ago?

Not quite.

Because this time, she couldn’t run. And while that bothered her, it also relieved her of trying to decide if she wanted to run. At least until the summer ended, she would continue to be with Walker—though she refused to watch him compete.

Each day, he did interviews or took care of the stock or whatever needed to be done for that night’s competition.

Each evening, he disappeared into the camper behind his pickup and changed into riding gear—tough jeans, crisp new shirt, fancier hat and the gleaming belt buckle that proclaimed him to be what everyone already knew he was, a national champion. He would put on the protective chaps and the special glove and spurs just before he entered the chute and lowered himself onto the bull’s heaving back, but he’d already made the transformation from rodeo producer to rodeo hand.

Each day, she ran the office with Roberta, worked on promotions and did whatever else needed doing.

Each evening, she stayed in the office, watching ticket sales gain steadily against last year’s total. Pretending she couldn’t hear the loudspeaker announcing that Walker Riley would be the next rider, blaring his scores and most often proclaiming him the winner.

And all the while, she tried not to visualize a ton of bull doing its damnedest to dislodge Walker.

The phone rang, and Kalli answered automatically.

“Park Rodeo.”

“Kalli? Kalli, that you? Kalli! How’re you doing? Still whooping it up out there in the Wild West?”

Her office. Again. Only this time, Jerry sounded as if he were pulling out all the stops. “I’m fine, Jerry. How are you?”

“Fine! Great! Everything’s great!”

Oh, she knew that tone. “What do you want, Jerry?”

“I call to ask how you are and this is what I get?”

“I told you, I’m fine. So what do you want, Jerry?”

The phone line went silent, but in the office the door creaked open. Kalli jammed the newspaper clipping into her top desk drawer just as Walker stepped in. He gave her a smile, then turned to the results clipboard on the far wall.

Did she imagine it, or did he move more stiffly today?

He’d certainly shown no sign of that last night.

Her sigh was masked by a gustier exhalation from New York. “So, when are you coming home, kid? We miss you.”

“I’ve told you.”

Kalli thought she’d keep her tone neutral, but Walker slowly turned and eyed her, with no hint of a smile.

“You’ve told me what? That you’re going to be gone all summer nursing this horse opera? That you’re going to stay out there maybe even longer? What does that mean?”

“As long as I’m needed, that’s what it means.”

“What, I don’t need you? The clients don’t need you?” She’d avoided using Jerry’s name, but from Walker’s expression it was a pointless subterfuge. He knew very well who was on the line. She turned away to speak into the phone.

“Jerry, I told you from the first day that I’ll stay here as long as I feel I’m needed. If you aren’t comfortable with that, if you feel you can’t wait until I’m satisfied that things are under control, you are certainly within your rights to terminate—”

“Terminate? Terminate? Who said anything about terminating? I call and ask how you’re doing and you start talking about terminating. What kind of talk is that after everything we’ve been through? Who took you in when you were still wet behind the ears?”

“Wet behind the ears? With two degrees, two internships to my credit and—if I say it myself—a good number of job offers,” she objected, with a stir of humor.

Jerry didn’t miss a beat. “And we’ve done good things together, haven’t we? That’s why I want you back here, so we can do more.”

“Jerry—”

“Just for a few days. That’s not so much to ask—”

“Jerry—”

“Not for me. For Lou Loben. He’s been working with us all summer on putting together the deal for that aluminum recycling business. We’re close. Real close. But you know how he is. He needs a little hand-holding. Now, it’s not that I can’t do it. But with everybody else off taking vacations and having babies and running rodeos... If it weren’t Lou Loben and if you hadn’t worked so well with him... Well, you know.”

She knew. She knew that even as Lou Loben admired Jerry’s business acumen, his habit of not listening to other people grated. Jerry was smart enough to assign Lou to her. “I can’t, Jerry,” she said with some regret. “There’s a situation here, and I need to be here.”

“Is this so much to ask? After all these years? And your working so well with Lou. Is that too much to ask?”

“No, it’s not too much to ask, but—”

“You going?”

She spun around to Walker’s voice. He leaned on the counter, making no bones about watching and listening.

“What?”

“What what?” Ignoring Jerry’s confused question, she tried to interpret the shifting shadows in Walker’s eyes.

“You want to go? Go.”

“I heard that,” Jerry said. “See? They’ll take care of those rodeo things. They can get by without you a couple days. And that’s all I need—a few days. Just long enough to get Lou fixed up. Five, six days. A week, tops.”

“Be quiet, Jerry.” He obeyed. She covered the mouthpiece. ‘What are you talking about, Walker?”

He repeated his earlier question. “You going?”

‘‘I don’t know.’’

“You want to go?”

What sort of question was that? She wanted to help Jerry. She wanted to get Lou Loben settled in the business she’d found for him. She wanted to do what she had trained to do, what she excelled at. But was that an answer?

“They need me,” she said, carefully neutral.

He nodded, and not only couldn’t she read his reaction, she couldn’t even make out her own.

Maybe, in addition to getting Lou over the hump, a few days away would help clarify her feelings.

She uncovered the mouthpiece, not taking her eyes off Walker’s. “I’ll give you two days, Jerry. Next week.”

“Well, two days—”

“Two days, Jerry.” She kept her voice steady and strong. If Jerry Salk heard any doubt, he’d attack it. But it was difficult with Walker turning away.

“That’s so close to when you said you were coming back, you might as well stay—”

“I’ll come to New York for two days, then I’m coming back to Wyoming, Jerry.”

“When you get back here, you might—”

“Jerry, listen very carefully to what I’m saying.” And she hoped the man heading out the door was also listening. “I am coming back to Wyoming.”

WALKER SLAPPED HIS
hat against the coating of dust on the seat of his jeans. He didn’t mind ending up on his rear in the middle of the arena, not if that came after the eight seconds ended and after a wild ride sure to pile up points.

The clowns seemed to have the bull contained near the exit gate, but Walker kept a watchful eye in that direction as he headed toward the fence amid the crowd’s cheers.

Gulch, wearing a glare, met him as he came over the fence. But before the older man could say anything, they were joined by one of the veterans who’d stopped by Park for a few days when the word got out the rodeo could use some aid.

“What kind of hospitality is that, Riley? Makin’ it tough on the rest of us with a ride like that. Nice score.”

“Stupid ride, if you ask me,” Gulch muttered vehemently.

“Nobody did,” Walker snapped.

It didn’t stop Gulch. “Stupid and reckless. When’d you go back to thinking you got a duty to give the bull a good chance to stomp you? Thought you got over that a long time ago.”

Feeling as if he’d gotten a blow to the gut, Walker bent over to loosen the fastenings on his chaps.

Gulch was right, he hadn’t ridden like that in years, and he’d done it then with the help of a couple pints of brain anesthetic. He hadn’t ridden like that since the last time Kalli had walked out of his life.

Two days, she’d said. Two days she’d be away.

Two days as the start of forever.

What he’d feared all along, rushing at him...not someday, but now.

Well, he’d survived it before, he’d survive it again. And just like last time, when she was gone, what he would have left would be rodeo.

“God, what a ride, Walker!”

Walker straightened and looked into the admiration-bright eyes of Matt Halderman, and felt like an ass.

Avoiding Gulch’s I-told -you-so look, he swore under his breath, then gave a succinct description of the ride, elaborated only by a few trenchant, profane adjectives, and watched Matt’s expression turn thoughtful.

“And if I ever catch you riding like that, Halderman, you won’t be back in rodeo anytime soon, you hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Walker’s mouth twisted in grim humor. So, it really had come to the point of being called “sir.” Well, he just hoped he’d been listening to his own advice.

“GOT A SURPRISE
for you.”

The opening of the office door hadn’t drawn Kalli’s concentration from the computer, but Walker’s voice did. The smile on his face wiped away any lingering interest in the machine. There hadn’t been so many smiles between them lately that she would ignore one.

“A surprise?” It was afternoon, way too early to know the ticket count, so it couldn’t be that.

“Uh-huh.” He swung the door wide, following it in with a flourish, and there on the steps were Jeff and Mary.

“Jeff! Mary! You’re here! When did you get here? Why—I mean how long will you—?”

“I think that about covers all the questions I asked, too,” Walker said, grinning. “They said they’d answer when they had us together so they’d only answer once.”

Jeff got around well with a quad-cane, but he gave a little sigh when he settled into a chair. Mary took Kalli’s chair, darting interested looks at the computer, while Kalli drew up a folding chair and Walker levered himself to a seat on the counter.

“Now,” Kalli demanded, “answer the questions.”

“Doctor said yesterday that Jeff could take a little overnight visit if he wanted.”

“Field trip,” Jeff said, with a grin.

“We drove down from Billings this morning and—”

“But why didn’t you tell us? We could have gotten everything ready for you,” Kalli interrupted.

“We didn’t know for sure until this morning. Had to see how Jeff felt after yesterday’s session. We went to the ranch first thing, had lunch and a rest. As for getting ready, the house looked fine. In fact, it didn’t look like anybody’d been living there much."

Kalli flashed a look at Walker, and if Mary and Jeff caught the heat of his return look, they had confirmation of what they clearly suspected. “I, uh, haven’t spent much time there.”

“Figured.” Kalli had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping when Mary said no more on the topic. “So, we looked around, checked in with the hands and caught up on news. We thought we’d stop by for a little talk now, then come back later to watch the rodeo. We’ll stay at home tonight and head back to Alice’s tomorrow.”

“Everyone will he thrilled to see you. We’ll have to make sure you don’t get trampled by the hordes,” Kalli said.

“What sort of little talk, Mary?” Walker asked. “You said you wanted to stop by for a little talk. What about?”

Jeff tipped his head toward Walker and Kalli as he said to Mary, “Tell ’em."

When Mary hesitated, dread whispered across Kalli’s mind. Was Jeff not recovering as well as they thought? He looked so much better, but... “Tell us what?”

Mary gave her a sharp look. “Now, don’t go leaping to worries and churning up your insides. There’s nothing wrong. We’ve been talking, Jeff and me, and it’s time to let the two of you know what we’re thinking.” Mary sat forward. “A thing like this gets you thinking.”

“Stroke,” Jeff clarified.

Mary nodded. “Makes you realize your time’s not unlimited. And you want to start making plans. Now, don’t get that look, Walker.” She returned frown for frown. “This has got to be said. We
want
it to be said.”

Kalli shot a look at Walker and he gave a palms-up gesture of acquiescence—with no promises of liking it.

“Some plans we want to make for while we’re still living.” Mary exchanged a look with her husband. “Some are for after we’re gone. We’re not going to talk of funerals and cemeteries and all. We’re settling that ourselves so nobody else will carry the burden.”

Tears and a smile surfaced together in Kalli — It was so typical of the Jeffrieses’ practical compassion.