Rough Riders Bundle 1(books 1, 2, 3) (22 page)

*

Colby was still
out by the time they reached Valentine. The motels were full, so it appeared they’d all be sleeping in the horse trailer at the rodeo grounds for at least a night.

While Trevor took care of the horses, Channing and Edgard made a run for food. They didn’t talk, letting the country music on the radio fill the void in the truck.

But Channing couldn’t stand it any longer. She’d keep the conversation neutral, but dammit, they were going to talk to each other and stop playing this avoidance game. She said, “Tell me how a Brazilian ended up team roping and tie-down roping on the American rodeo circuit.”

Edgard turned down Reba McIntyre’s “Fancy.”

“My mother came to America as a foreign exchange student when she was in high school. She met my father at a rodeo when she was seventeen. She ended up pregnant and they got married. About a year after I was born, my birth father died in a car accident.

“My mother was only eighteen, a widow, a foreigner with a baby and no way to support herself. So she returned to her family in Brazil. A couple of years later she married the man I consider my real father. But she kept in touch with my birth father’s parents. After I graduated from high school, I came to the US for a few months to meet them. I’ve been coming here on and off for about ten years.”

“Where do they live?”

“Outside of Laramie, which is where I met Trevor. Anyway, because I was raised on a ranch in Brazil, I realized I could make big money here on the rodeo circuit.” Edgard shot her a dark look. “Here’s where you could point out I’m not making big money now.”

She scowled. “But I’m not like that, Edgard. I’ve got enough things in my own life that need fixed before I’ll pass judgment on other people’s problems, financial or otherwise.”

“Sorry. That was a cheap shot.” He sighed. “At one time I did earn money through bull riding and bulldogging, enough that I bought a ranch in Brazil about an hour away from my parents. It is so beautiful. Lush and green and secluded. I miss it.”

“So how come you’re not there?”

Edgard tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he brooded out the window. “I’m beginning to wonder that, too.”

“Trevor doesn’t know what to do about you being in love with him, does he?”

He whipped toward her, his mouth open. “How did you know?”

“I guessed.” Channing held up a hand at his immediate protest. “It’s not obvious to other people. But because our circumstances—you know, the supposed free-for-all sex, and you not really being into it at all, and then seeing you guys together today…”

Edgard brooded some more. “Have you talked to Trevor?”

“No. I won’t either. You can trust me. But I want to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Trevor doesn’t consider himself gay. So there’s no way he’ll let you two be together, as a real couple, ‘out’ in a relationship, right?”

“Right.”

“So why are you still here in the US? Following him and the rodeo circuit instead of being at the ranch you love so much?”

“Because I love him more. Or at least I thought I did.” Edgard parked the truck and leaned his head back into the headrest. “At the beginning of the year, Trevor hinted he might be interested in coming to Brazil. Permanently. Living with me. Helping me raise cattle on the ranch. And he made it sound like he wouldn’t keep pretending we were just roping partners. That maybe we could be partners in the truest sense of the word. No more hiding.”

“But?”

“But first he wanted to spend another year trying to get to the NFR in the team roping. Trying to make his father proud. Trying to prove himself.”

“I sense another ‘but’ coming.”

“But as I’m here, spending another summer with him, chasing his dream, getting our asses beat on the circuit every damn day, I’ve begun to realize he is too afraid to be with me the way I need him to be. That my dreams don’t matter to him, maybe they never have.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t even mind the women. I’ve known since the first time we were together that he really is bisexual. I’m not. I never can be. I’ve never wanted to be.” Edgard gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for being who you are, Edgard.”

“Thank you for that. Trevor’s family is very traditional. He’d be disowned if his family knew about us.”

“And your family?”

“My family knows I’m gay. They’ve accepted it and accepted me. So when I’m there, I have a hard time understanding why Trevor can’t just be what he is and not care what other people think. When I’m here, in the US, I have to pretend to be something I’m not. And Trevor can’t seem to make up his mind what he wants either way.”

“Is it worth it?”

“I don’t know. Being with him is like a drug. When we’re competing together, it’s like we’re really a team. When we’re fucking it’s like we’re really in love. Every other time it sucks, like coming down off a really great high. And lately, the highs have been few and far between.” His body went rigid for a second. “Shit. Sorry. Probably more than you wanted to know, eh?”

“No. Thanks for being honest with me. I’ve spent my whole life with people pretending to be who they’re not and expecting me to be the same shallow person. That’s why I ran away with the rodeo.”

“Are you finding people are more real here?”

“Some more than others.” Channing reached for his hand. “Like I told you the other day. I’d like for us to be friends, because the truth is, I could use one.”

Edgard squeezed her hand. “Anytime, shug.”

*

By the time
they unwrapped the sandwiches and set out the rest of the food, Trevor was back from exercising the horses and Colby had shambled down from the sleeping area. He looked like hell. Channing had to bite her tongue against demanding he go back to bed.

The meal was sort of strange, in that with all the sexual things the four of them had done together, it was the first time they’d eaten a meal in the same place.

Colby wasn’t a good dinner companion. He complained about the onions on the sandwiches. The lack of beer. He grumbled about having to clean himself up in the tiny shower. When his cell phone rang, Channing was grateful for the chance to escape.

She wandered through the grounds. It was a lovely night, the humidity softened the air so it seemed to soothe her and caress her skin like warm velvet. Lots of folks were sitting outside enjoying the evening, drinking beer. Some kids were practicing throwing ropes. She really didn’t have any idea where she was headed until she saw the glare of the arena lights and the empty bleachers.

A couple of gals were taking turns running the barrels.

Channing stayed there, hanging on the fence, on the outside looking in—again—and wondered if she’d ever find a place in her life where she fit in.

She fit with Colby. How he’d recognized her loneliness the first time he’d seen her blew her away. She thought she’d kept that secret well hidden. But she’d noticed things about him too that he’d shrugged off as no big deal.

The soft clip-clop of horse’s hooves sounded behind her. She spun and saw Gemma astride a bay mare.

“Channing! Girl, what’re you doin’ out here all by yourself?”

“Getting some fresh air. What are you doing?”

“Letting Daisy here stretch her legs.” Gemma patted the horse’s neck. “She’s a social butterfly. She wants to see who’s hanging around the paddock. Mostly I think she’s got her eye on cozying up to one of them cutting horse studs.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“You want to ride her? She’s really gentle.”

Channing laughed. “Can I tell you something completely embarrassing?”

Gemma grinned. “You don’t know how to ride a horse, do you?”

“Nope. Not the first thing about it.”

“Well, lucky you’ve got me to teach you.”

“The teacher being taught, that has a nice ring to it.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. That’s great. What age group?”

“I’m supposed to teach high school in the fall. But my real love would be elementary kids.”

“Why can’t you switch and do that?”

Channing sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time. Come on, help me bed Daisy down for the night and we’ll talk about making you into a real horsewoman.”

Channing wished she would’ve brought her notebook. There was so much more to taking care of a horse than she’d ever dreamed. Gemma chatted as she performed the tasks she’d done a million times. When she finished she said, “Early tomorrow we’ll get saddled up.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” She wiped a gloved hand across her forehead, leaving a smear of dirt. “I got beer in the trailer if you want one.”

Channing thought it’d be rude to point out the smudge so she didn’t. “I’d love a beer.”

“Good. Let’s sit outside, soak in the night. I hate being cooped up all day in the damn truck.”

At her campsite, Gemma pulled out two lawn chairs and a six-pack of Bud Light. She popped the tops on two cans, handed one to Channing and toasted her. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

After a long pull of beer, Gemma sighed and propped her booted feet on the cooler. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. This is getting to be my favorite time of day.” She grinned. “Beer o’clock.”

Channing laughed.

“So, tell me, Channing Kinkaid, who you are, and why you’re running with the rodeo and a buncha cowboys. You look smarter than that.”

Again, Channing laughed and gave Gemma the long version of her life, the rundown of her crises and conflicts and the temporary escape from it.

Gemma looked thoughtful for a minute as she finished her second beer. Then she said, “Sounds like you got out in the nick of time.”

“But I do have to go back,” Channing pointed out.

“You don’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t want to. That’s the beauty of being young and where you’re at in your life.”

“By blowing off my obligations?” she countered.

“Only person you’re obligated to make happy is yourself. Is Colby McKay helpin’ you blow off some steam and taking some of the starch out of your spine?”

“You might say that.”

“And since I’ve got no life and no shame, my next question…is he any good?”

Channing sipped her beer before she let a slow smile tilt the corners of her mouth. “Oh, yeah.”

“Come on, girl. Details. Vivid details.”

“You’ve seen him on broncs?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, rough stock ain’t the only thing he can ride like a wild man. And he can ride long and ride hard, all night.”

Gemma hooted. “Keep goin’.”

“You know the phrase ‘hung like a bull’?”

“Uh-huh.”

Channing leaned forward. “Bulls ain’t got nothin’ on him. And believe me, when he’s riding, bucking him off is the
last
thing on my mind.”

“Oh. My. God. I need another goddamn beer. Better yet, give me some ice out of that cooler.”

“Come on, Gemma. This isn’t anything you haven’t heard before, right?”

“About Colby? Or men in particular?”

“Both.”

“That your way of fishin’ for information on Colby?”

“Can’t put anything over on you, huh, Gem?”

She snorted. “Okay. I’m gonna admit that I know Colby’s folks a little better than I know him. Our ranches are only about three hours apart.

“So, here’s what I know about your rough rider. He likes ’em young. He likes ’em once and then he likes ’em gone.” Gemma tipped her can toward Channing. “So as I see it, from my years of wisdom, you’ve clean busted out of all three molds he likes to put his women in. Just maybe there’s more to what’s goin’ on with you two than a short summer fling.”

“I doubt it.” Channing chalked up the increased beat of her heart to beer, not hope. “What about you? How long have you been a widow?”

“Two and a half long, lonely years.”

“And in that time…” Channing trailed off expectantly.

Gemma sank a little lower in her lawn chair. “In that time I haven’t done the mattress mambo. Not once.”

“Why not? You’re pretty, you’re fun, you’re bright, you’re respected, you know everything about rodeo stock—”

“But I’m old, Channing.”

Channing frowned. “Old. Right. What ancient age are you? Thirty-five? Thirty-six?”