Rodeo Nights (9 page)

“Of course, Mary. You just let me know what you want and when you want it. How about a car? Do you want us to arrange for you to have a car there?”

“No, no, that’s all taken care of. My cousin Alice lives in Billings and I’ll be staying with her and using her son’s car.”

“Okay. How soon do you think I can visit Jeff?”

“I’ll find out all that and let you and Walker know. But don’t worry about coming up too often—that’s a two-hour drive. And as much as Jeff will want to see you, you know he’ll fret if he thinks you’re taking too much time from the rodeo.”

Kalli laughed. It was so true; and it was so good to hear Mary happy, and to hear her talking about Jeff just the way he’d always been.

She was still smiling when she hung up after making a few more arrangements with Mary, and turned to Roberta.

“Great news!”

“I heard.” Roberta smiled. “At least the gist. You want me to go get Walker so you can tell him?”

Kalli’s instinct for self-preservation took over, shouting a warning that sharing these emotions with Walker right now would not be a good idea. She needed time to restore her defenses.

“Uh, no, that’s not necessary. I, uh, I’ll go out later and tell him.” Reverting to businesslike briskness, she picked up the entries not yet recorded in the computer. “After we’ve finished this.”

Roberta frowned, but didn’t argue. However, when those tasks were completed, and they’d reached the lull before reopening the office for the evening, she wasted no time shooing Kalli out with orders to tell Walker the good news. “But take that sweater. Wind’s kicking up cool.”

Kalli stood by the arena fence, only mildly surprised to find enjoyment in watching the activity. The memories, so sharp and painful at first, had eased over the past few weeks.

Maybe it was simply being back around the rodeo day in and day out. She now associated the sights and sounds and smells with daily life instead of the past’s hurts.

Or maybe, in facing the memories, she had weakened their power over her.

Coat appeared at her side as she watched two cowboys on horseback circling the arena at a leisurely walk, letting their horses get acquainted with their surroundings. Two others stood by their mounts near the chutes used for roping events. Walker was talking to them.

Kalli rested her forearms on the top metal tube of the fence and propped her chin on her crossed wrists as she watched. By his gestures, Walker was explaining the fine points of the Park Rodeo’s system. They listened with something close to reverence.

Walker’s presence in the arena explained why Coat was not at his heels as usual. Dogs were kept out to avoid spooking a horse. Coat might be too savvy a rodeo dog to do that and Walker might have the authority to make his dog the exception to the rule, but Kalli knew he wouldn’t.

For some stupid reason, that made her smile as she watched Walker vault to the top of the fence next to the chute, then swing one long leg over to straddle the narrow perch with the ease of long custom.

He was dressed no differently from the rest of the men in the arena, or even the adolescent railbirds watching from the far side. Boots, jeans, leather belt, long-sleeved shirt—though his red-and-denim stripe was the exception to the solid blues and whites—and cowboy hat. He sat quietly. The angle of his hat was neither jaunty nor mysterious, but simply in the optimum position to shade his face from strong late-afternoon sun.

Yet he commanded attention.

She could see it in the way the others kept looking to him.

She knew it in the way her own gaze kept coming back to him.

Perhaps it was as simple as reputation. But Kalli wasn’t so sure.

Amid whoops and shouts of encouragement, one of the two young cowboys who’d been in the office earlier urged his horse out of the chute, chasing an invisible calf.

Walker’s face remained impassive under the shadow of his hat, but his left hand tightened, eased, turned, and tightened again around the metal tubing, as if it were a horse’s rein. As if he were the one on the horse, guiding its path. As if... Realization kicked Kalli in the stomach. She straightened, her hands tightly wrapped around the fence. As if he were the one preparing to compete.

God, she could see the desire in every line of his body, so falsely relaxed. That cowboy cool, trying to mask what was going on in his heart. But she saw it. And fear gripped her.

He’d be leaving. As soon as Jeff and Mary could take control again, he’d be back on the circuit, gambling his body and his safety on the belief that he could outlast, outsmart and outmaneuver nearly a ton of bull.

Well, of course he would go back. She’d known that.

Known it all along. They’d put their lives on hold temporarily to help Mary and Jeff. But only temporarily. When Mary and Jeff no longer needed them, they’d each return to their lives. Hers in business in New York. His on the rodeo circuit.

Their real lives. Their separate lives.

He turned then, as if he’d felt her eyes on him, and she forced herself to raise a hand and produce a smile. He started toward her.

“Got some good news, Walker.” She pushed every other thought away and made the smile real. “Mary called...”

IT WASN’T THAT
she was lonely as the solitary occupant of the Jeffrieses’ rambling ranch house. She’d scoffed at the idea when Walker had raised it after hearing Mary wouldn’t be home tonight or any other night while Jeff was in Billings. Mary had spent most nights at the Park hospital anyhow, and Kalli had lived alone for years. Besides, as she’d pointed out to Mr. Overprotective Riley, there were three hands and the longtime foreman two hundred yards away in the bunkhouse, so she wasn’t exactly alone.

No, clearly it wasn’t loneliness that had her wandering the darkened house. More a restlessness that drove her from her room in the north wing, to the center of the house with its big kitchen, homey dining room, casual living room and cluttered den that doubled as Jeff’s office. Then beyond that to the oversize master bedroom and sitting room on the south side. And back once more.

The kind of restlessness that hit when she was tired, but couldn’t sleep. The kind of restlessness she hated because she couldn’t ignore it and didn’t want to face its source.

Faint light in the den flirted with the face of a clock. She went in, drawn closer, though not really wanting to know the time. After one. She tried to block out the automatic computation of how much sleep she’d get if she went to sleep right this second. An exercise in futility. Both because her mind did the math in a blink, and because there was no way she was going to sleep anytime soon.

She went to the window, resting her elbows on the crosspieces and staring at the dark sky and darker form of the mountains, pierced by a solitary light that told of mankind’s toehold on their majesty.

Turning away from that light, she ran her hand along the smooth edge of the wooden desk that had sat here as long as she could remember. On impulse, she dropped onto the leather seat of Jeff’s big chair, feeling as oddly comforted as she had as a child wearing her father’s oversize sweater.

The desktop’s semi-controlled chaos informed her it hadn’t been touched since Jeff’s stroke. She felt a half smile tug at her mouth. Nobody but Jeff would know where to find things, and he would know immediately if anything had been moved.

But Jeff wouldn’t be back for a while. Perhaps a long while. If there was anything vital in this clutter... She pulled the chair up to the desk and grabbed the first sheaf of papers, clearing an area to start forming piles.

And there were the ledgers.

Of course.

Why hadn’t she looked here in the first place? A frown tightened her face. Why hadn’t she kept looking after she’d discovered they weren’t at the office? It was a basic she never would have overlooked in New York. How had she let herself get sidetracked?

An image of startling blue eyes looking back at her from under the brim of a well-broken-in cowboy hat provided an answer.

She hurriedly pushed aside the loose papers to grasp the ledger. Pulling out the heavy book set off an earthquake among the papers over, under and around it. She settled them to some semblance of stability, and opened the book.

An hour and a half later, her frown was tighter, her neck muscles were complaining and the scratch pad at her elbow was covered with figures.

Disturbing figures.

Figures that meant she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

“I’VE BEEN LOOKING
for you, Walker.”

He finished dropping the gate in place behind the last steer before twisting on his perch to find Kalli staring up at him from the aisle between holding pens, hands on hips, mouth tight. She seldom ventured to this area when they were sorting stock for the night’s show. Whether it was because her fastidiousness suffered at the dirt, smells and sounds the activity stirred or because he was always around, he didn’t know.

But she was here now. Late-afternoon sun washed her hair with gold, brought even more warmth to her cheeks than the color she’d picked up the past few weeks. It also spotlighted a darkness and slight puffiness under her eyes that said she hadn’t gotten much sleep.

God only knew why, but somehow that made him want her more. And his level of desire had already been at a level to guarantee he hadn’t gotten much sleep of late.

“I’ve been looking for you all day,” she repeated, clearly trying to hold her tone down to mere irritation.

“I was here dropping off the stock ’til round two. You could have found me then.”

“I was at the bank. When I got back, you and Gulch had pulled your afternoon disappearing act. But I’d told everybody around if they saw you they should tell you I wanted to talk to you. You must have known I was looking for you before you took off. But you chose to ignore it. Where do you two go anyway?”

“Maybe I just liked the idea of you looking for me so much, I didn’t want to end it too soon. Wanted to savor it.”

He was deliberately baiting her, which could be dangerous. But it worked. Something flashed across her eyes, an awareness, a heat that had him gripping the metal tube of his perch.
Closure, my butt.

Then she shied away as if the topic were a rattler.

“We need to talk,” she announced grimly.

“Okay.” He turned to Gulch, an interested spectator. “You can finish up?”

“Sure thing.”

Walker swung his leg over the top of the metal fence, but paused when Kalli took a quick step backward. He met her eyes, knowing he was baiting her again, knowing he was gambling again. Her chin rose, and he couldn’t resist.

He pushed off, adjusting his landing to within six inches of her toes. She leaned back, almost swaying, but held her position. This time, the flicker across her eyes closely resembled anger.

“Are you done playing games?” she snapped. Was she angry at him or herself?

“Yes’m.” He made no effort to hide the amusement—he was living dangerously today.

“This is serious.”

That slowed him some. She not only looked tired, she looked worried. “Okay, let’s go to the office.”

“No.” She stopped abruptly, her outstretched hand bringing him to a halt, too. “I mean, let’s go sit at the picnic table.”

Neither said anything more. Sitting across from him, she silently handed him several sheets of paper, simply nodding at them when he looked at her in inquiry.

A quick scan had him frowning. The figures didn’t improve any on closer inspection.

“The Park Rodeo is in debt.” She sounded as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

“Some,” he acknowledged.

“But you know how Jeff and Mary preached against debt. They don’t even use credit cards. They wouldn’t advance us our allowances just to teach us the importance of responsibility. Remember?”

She sounded so bewildered, he wanted to pull her into his arms. “I remember.”

“You aren’t surprised.”

“Not particularly.”

He would have left it at that, but she demanded, “Why?”

“Heard some things.”

“And you didn’t do anything about it?”

He’d give her that, considering the circumstances, but she was pushing it. He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward.

“Heard about it after the fact. Last summer and the one before were pretty rough around here. Drought two years in a row. Some folks didn’t have the financial reserves they should have. I knew it was tough, but I was on the road so much.... Wasn’t until Jeff’s stroke and spending time here that I heard Jeff had bailed out folks.”

“I see. The good ol’ boy network passed you the word that Jeff had let his generosity go beyond his means, and you didn’t bother to tell me.”

“Wasn’t anything that firm. More a worry than a word.”

“And you didn’t think I’d be interested in a ‘worry’? Or was it that you didn’t think my feminine little head could take the stress?”

“Not used to sharing worries.” He spoke the words before he’d considered them. Once out, he didn’t like leaving them solo. “No sense brawling about it now. Once the chute’s open, there’s no sense trying to close it back up. You make the ride the best you can. That’s what you have to do.”

She jumped right on that. “Exactly. It’s time to make the changes I talked about. The first thing is finish getting computerized. If the rodeo’s books were on the computer, I would have known about this from the start and been able to take steps. And then, special promotions to—”

“Hold on there, Kalli. These figures aren’t that bad.” He tapped the papers on the table between them. “If we just go day by day—”

“Still living only for today, Walker?” Kalli’s voice, quiet as it was, cut. “Maybe you don’t want to look beyond today in your life. But if we don’t look beyond today on this, there might not be a tomorrow for Jeff’s rodeo.”

He leaned back, tilting his head to consider her.

“We got a rodeo to run tonight. And we both need some time to let this sink in. We’ll talk in the morning. Ten o’clock in that room where we had the meeting before. You bring coffee, I’ll bring doughnuts.” He held up his hand to stop her words. “For once, Kalli Evans, give something some time. We don’t have to decide things right this second. Not things that are going to have a long effect.”