Rodeo Nights (26 page)

“The worst’s happened from your standpoint,” he explained. “I got thrown. I caught a horn a little bit, but—”

“A little bit?”

“But,” he repeated, overriding her protest, “I came through fine. That emergency-room doc says I can ride tomorrow—”

Her eyes jerked up to his, then away. It made it harder to finish, but he did. He wouldn’t lie to her. “And I will. So why don’t you come watch tomorrow?”

Almost absently, she reminded him, “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“That’s right, you won’t.”

Something in his tone must have caught her attention, because she turned to look into his eyes. He had the uncomfortable feeling she saw more there than he would have liked.

“I’m coming back, Walker.” He hadn’t wanted to be transparent, for God’s sake. “I told Jerry two days. I’ll be here Wednesday night. Thursday at the latest.”

“Rodeo season ends Saturday.” Pointing out what they both already knew served as a setup, so he could tack on the question he couldn’t ask outright. “Doesn’t seem real practical if you’re coming back for just two days.”

“I don’t know how long I’m coming back for. I don’t know how we’ll work that out, but I promise you, Walker, no matter what, I’m coming back.”

He shifted, uneasy with the intensity of her gaze, or maybe with the idea that she could see in his face how pathetically eager he was to believe that. He couldn’t crawl. Not even for Kalli.

“Well, if you come back—”

“When.”

He took the risk and conceded to her certainty and his desire, “Okay, when. When you come back, why don’t you come watch me ride instead of sitting in the office imagining things? Your imaginings are a load worse than the real thing, ninety-nine times out of a hundred. Besides, you’re stronger than you know, Kalli. Just take tonight—the worst happened, and you handled it fine. Except if I catch you coming in the ring like that again, I’ll—”

“The worst?”

The quaver in her voice stopped him. It had been a long, wearing night for both of them. But she sounded more than tired.

He ducked his head for a better look at her face. And felt a clutch in his chest. From beneath her closed eyelids tears gathered in her lashes, then slipped down her cheeks, over her chin and down her throat.

“The worst?” she repeated. “This wasn’t the worst. The worst would be losing you. For...forever.” Her voice broke, but she went on. “Losing you... Like Cory.”

He was stunned. By her pain. By his stupidity.

That bull tossed you in the air like you were a rag doll.
He’d heard her say the words tonight, but he hadn’t stopped to argue with them. Because the bull hadn’t tossed him. He’d already dismounted and started to back up, to clear out of the clowns’ way, when the crafty Brahman gave a feint, then twisted his massive head to catch Walker a slashing blow with his horn.

But Cory
had
been tossed like that the night he died.

And that’s what his Kalli saw in her mind every time she thought about him going up on a bull.

He should have known. Hell, she’d even said something about Cory during the trip to the hospital.

God, he hadn’t even come close to it when he said her imaginings were worse than the real thing. Cory’s death was the worst thing he’d seen in nearly twenty years of rodeoing. He’d heard old-timers who’d said the same thing, only doubling the years. If that’s what she thought every time he rode...

He took her in his arms. The tears still falling, she resisted a moment, then leaned into him. Letting him hold her, letting him rock her. He felt powerful and invincible. And humbled.

“It’s all right, Kalli.” He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair back. The stream of tears wetted his fingertips. “Aw, Kalli. Kalli, honey. It’s all right. It’s all right.”

He kept murmuring assurances, until the tears slowed. She took in a deep, cleansing breath and released it in the only sob he’d heard since she’d started crying. Then she took another breath and expelled it slowly.

That’s when he kissed her, feeling the wetness on her mouth, tasting the saltiness that had tracked her lips. She responded. When they were both breathless, he followed the salty path over her chin, down her soft throat, past her collarbone. Opening and pushing aside her button-front sleep shirt, he found a tiny pool of droplets between her breasts. He licked it dry, then kissed the spot, anointing it with a new wetness.

“I want you, Kalli. I want to make love with you.”

He needed her now. The need might eat at him when she was gone, but for now, she was still here.

“Your leg... No...”

But she helped his questing hands, shrugging out of her sleep shirt, reaching for him. He’d heard the need in her voice. The same kind of need he’d felt that day in the office, after she’d walked away from him. And he realized a little more just how scared she’d been.

“My leg will be fine.”

“Walker,” she protested again. But by then they were both naked. And their skimming, stroking, dipping touches showed they were both ready.

“It’ll be fine.” He put on the condom with hands not entirely steady. “You’re going to make love to me.”

He positioned her astride him, and plunged into her before she could voice another protest. He watched as her own needs took control. Her need to prove how real, how alive he was under her. He understood that need, and met it.

He watched her face as she rose above him, concentrating to hold back his own release until hers was complete. Caressing her breasts, he gripped her hips, arching up into her in movements that tormented him and drove her nearer to where she needed to be. Where he needed to take her.

“Walker? Walker!”

“I’m here. Right here.”

THE BRIGHTNESS OF
the clock’s electric numbers was beginning to fade against the coming daylight when she shifted in his arms and found him awake and watching her. She said the words weighing on her heart.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, or worse.”

He moved his head so they were looking straight into each other’s eyes.

And she saw again what she’d seen earlier— He wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t leaving for good.

“And I don’t want you walking out of my life.”

He kissed her, and she answered. A deep, lasting kiss. But in it, she tasted the knowledge they’d both acquired over the past ten years: you don’t always get what you want.

HE DROVE HER
to the airport, grinning at her fussing about his driving with that gash in his leg.

“At least I don’t have to be a witness to your competing tonight,” she grumbled. “It’s probably just as well I’m leaving.”

That wiped out his grin, and suddenly she felt nervous and awkward about the whole situation. About being here.

About being with him. About leaving him.

The rest of the short drive was made in silence. In the tiny waiting room, the conversation consisted of her last-second listings of rodeo details he should handle or remind Roberta to see to and her urging him to call New York if anything came up, and his stolid assurances.

When the agent called her flight and the other passengers started through security, they looked at each other, glanced away and stood.

Two steps from where the agent checked boarding passes and ID, Walker’s hand on Kalli’s arm turned her toward him. Without preamble, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth with deep, slow thrusts that brought memories of their lovemaking to an immediate blaze in her body.

He released her mouth, but still held her against him, their bodies fully prepared to complete the union their mouths had intimated.

Under the brim of his hat, his eyes showed blue around desire-dilated pupils.

“Come back to me, Kalli.”

Then he let her go and strode away. Like an automaton, she handed her ticket to the goggle-eyed agent and followed the routine. But all she saw was Walker’s face, and all she heard was his voice.

Come back to me, Kalli.

TWO DAYS.

Two days, she’d said. Thursday at the latest.

She’d left Monday at first light. Now it was Thursday night. No, make that Friday—by the clock and soon by the sun.

Walker stood on his porch, leaning against the post, looking down at a house where no light showed in the last room on the north wing and calling himself every kind of fool.

He shouldn’t have let her go. If he’d kept her here—somehow—he could have fought her fear. But now the fear had a clear field again. The same fear that had kept her away ten years.

Not learning from your mistakes in rodeo was a sure path to failure, and a possible route to getting killed.

Seemed like loving Kalli could be just as deadly.

THE BLARING CAR
horn didn’t make her jump as it had her first day back in the city. She glared at the driver who’d expressed his outrage at being denied an opportunity to run a red light by pedestrians daring to cross with the green.

So, her New York skills had not all disappeared. She’d begun to wonder since arriving three days ago.

The sounds had seemed louder, the lights harsher, the buildings grayer, the air denser, the sky farther. Even her own apartment seemed alien and severe.

Not that she’d spent much time there, she thought with a wry smile as she entered a restaurant. The maitre d’ seemed slightly taken aback, then returned her smile and led her through the maze of tables.

Jerry Salk had plunged her into a whirlwind of activity, finagling her into dealing with two other clients in addition to Lou Loben “as long as you’re here.” From power lunches to tense conferences to late strategy sessions to breakfast negotiations to—finally—this celebratory late-night drink, where she would join Jerry and Lou in self-congratulatory toasts, every minute had been full. But work hadn’t kept any demons away this time, because every moment had also been empty.

Empty without Walker.

She missed him. Missed him with an ache and loneliness that surpassed even what she’d felt when she first came to this city ten years ago, a refugee from her own fear. Perhaps she missed him more now because she missed the real Walker, the man he’d become. The man she loved.

‘‘Kalli!’’

She barely heard Jerry’s exultant greeting. She sat hard in the chair the maitre d’ held for her because her knees had stopped holding her up.

She missed the man she loved.

She loved him. Absolutely. Unreservedly. Loved him more than anything else in this life.

This time with a love stronger than fear.

To protect herself from worrying day by day, she’d lost the chance to love him and be loved in return hour by hour, minute by minute, and in the end, she’d lost years.

No,
they’d
lost years. Because he’d had his fears, too. To protect himself from wondering second by second if she might leave, he’d presumed she would walk away again.

I don’t want you getting hurt, or worse.

And I don’t want you walking out of my life.

Their fears had almost led to what they feared most—losing each other.

“Are you okay, Kalli?”

Her surroundings came into focus. Lou watched her with puzzlement and faint concern, Jerry was talking—as always—and she had a half-empty glass of champagne in her hand she didn’t remember accepting, much less drinking from.

“Okay? She’s riding high. And now that this deal’s wrapped up, you can talk to Arliss Rand tomorrow. He’s got questions on that hardware store chain.”

“No. I stayed an extra day and a half, but—”

“A day? What’s that matter when it’s a team like us?”

“No, Jerry.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no, I can’t talk to Arliss Rand because I am leaving in the morning.”

“Leaving?” he repeated blankly. Lou began to smile.

“I’m going back to Wyoming and—”

“Going back? For what? A couple days, that’s all. Then you’re back here. You might as well stay, save yourself all that flying.”

“There won’t be much flying, because I’m going back to Wyoming for good.”

His mouth opened, closed, then reopened immediately “So you go back a few days, okay, finish up what you want, then you come back. I’m not an ogre. You finish up that rodeo, then you come on back. Arliss Rand will wait.”

“He’ll have to wait a long time, because I am not coming back, Jerry. I have another month of vacation time, so consider that your notice. I officially resign.”

“Resign? What are you talking about, resign? We can work this out. We won’t talk about it now. Tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow I’ll be on a flight to Wyoming.” She made the next words as solid as a few square miles of the Rocky Mountains. “That decision is final.”

“I don’t understand,” Jerry said plaintively.

Lou leaned back, his smile full-blown. “You know, Jerry, there’s an old country song I think wraps up what Kalli’s trying to tell you.”

Jerry looked as if he wanted to pull his hair out. Or perhaps Lou’s and hers. “A song? What song?”

“It’s called, ‘Take This Job and Shove It.’ ” Lou lifted his glass to her in a toast.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Ignoring Jerry, she grinned back at Lou.

“I didn’t know you liked country music.”

“How could you not like a sentiment like that?”

“Wyoming!” Jerry bleated. “You’ll come back, just you wait and see. You’ll miss the excitement, you’ll miss the deals, you’ll miss the life. You’ll be back, begging me.”

“You should come to Wyoming, Lou,” Kalli said, enjoying herself. “I’d invite Jerry, too, but he doesn’t seem interested. But please, come out and see the rodeo.”

Even as Lou said he’d love to and Jerry muttered himself into silence, she considered her final words and made a slight adjustment.

“Come out and see
our
rodeo.”

ONE FLIGHT CANCELED.
Another caught by thunderstorms over Chicago and diverted to Detroit for an hour’s wait, and more pacing. A missed connection. By the time she caught the commuter flight from Denver to Park, Kalli thought the pioneers might have had an easier time in covered wagons.