The Cowboy and the Angel (21 page)

“Do we really have to do this?” her father asked, dragging his duffle bag behind him.

“Yes. You might actually have fun, Dad.”

“Doubt it,” he muttered under his breath.

Derek took the bag from his hands and carried it downstairs while Angela locked the door. Her hand paused over the lock, making him wonder if she was debating staying or praying to never return.

A
NGELA TRIED TO
ignore her father’s small talk throughout the entire ride to the arena, wishing he’d just go back to sleep. If only she could have been that lucky.

“I don’t remember a lot about the night Angie was born, but I remember thinking she looked just like her mother.”

Derek glanced over at the man in backseat. “I saw the picture by the television. They look almost identical.”

“Almost.” Angela saw a frown furrow his brow for a moment before quickly passing, like a shadow. “Her mother was a beautiful woman, too pretty for the likes of me.” Angela had heard her father talk about her mother through the years and couldn’t remember him sounding this tender and reminiscent. He usually sounded like a man wracked with guilt, but today he seemed to remember only the good times. “My Angie-girl has her spirit too.”

“Really? I never would have guessed that.” Derek glanced at her and gave her a knowing smile. She was grateful Derek seemed to understand she didn’t want his pity. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, willing herself to have patience. Her father talked far too much when he’d been drinking.

As they turned into the rodeo grounds, Derek pulled to the back and several trailers came into view. A few horse trailers were pulling out now that some of the roping events had finished, and it looked like the barrel racers were preparing for their rides. Angela sighed, irritated her father had cost her an entire day she should have been working on her story. Who knew what she missed while she retrieved him from jail yet again. Her anger sparked at his selfishness. How could he be so narcissistic to take her away from her job, the only means she had to feed him and keep a roof over his head?

As Derek pulled to a stop, she jumped out of the truck and slammed the door. She couldn’t bear to look at her father, and she was too embarrassed to talk to Derek. “Dad, I’m going to try to get some work done. Take your things to that trailer and get some sleep. Don’t go anywhere without telling either Derek or me.”

Her father glanced from her to Derek. “I could have stayed home.”

“Dad,” she said with a sigh, feeling guilty for her sharp words. “I couldn’t leave you there alone. Derek and I have work to do. He runs the rodeo and took time out today to drive me to pick you up. You should thank him instead of acting ungrateful.”

“Come on, Mr. McCallister. I’ll show you where you can get some rest. We’re almost done for today anyway.”

Angela saw her father’s eyes light on the various trailers and equipment, making her hesitant to let him go. “Dad, please stay out of trouble while you’re here, okay?”

Her father frowned. “I’ll be fine. If you were so worried . . .”

“Sir, let me introduce you to Mike Findley. He actually started this company with my father.”

She mouthed a quick
thank
you
to Derek as he turned to take her father toward the trailer. Angela was grateful for Derek’s interference. His kindness and patience with her father were more than she could have ever hoped for. She could see the annoyance on her father’s face. He’d made it clear to her in their apartment he didn’t want a change of scenery. Why would he? Here he was under her watchful eye again, and in such close proximity the likelihood of slipping a drink past her was pretty slim.

She headed to the announcer’s booth where she could watch the barrel racers from their entry to their exit. She was determined to focus on the rodeo and her story, even with her father near. She frowned, watching her father enter the trailer with Derek, but shoved her worries about him aside. She needed to have some sort of story ready for Joe when he arrived.

She looked toward the gate when the announcer called the name of the next competitor, Alicia Kanani. She watched the animal hopping onto its back feet from behind the closed gate with its rider tugging on the reins, barely keeping the animal under control. The horse’s shod feet kicked up dust as she turned the horse so it couldn’t see the gate. As a cowboy opened it inward, she spun her paint, charging into the arena. Steering the horse sharply to the right, Angela gasped as the horse curled his rump under him and slid toward the barrel, leaning precariously. She saw the barrel tip as the rider bumped it with her knee somehow managing to keep it upright as she kicked the horse on to her second turn.

The horse veered out, away from the second barrel before cutting sharply to the left and appeared to circle the barrel without moving forward. The cowgirl kicked her legs and heels against the horse’s sides as the animal bolted toward the last barrel at the end of the arena. Again, the horse spun around the final barrel before charging toward the end of the arena and the closed gate. As she leaned forward, her horse pinned its ears back, stretching out and eating up the arena. She crossed a laser beam of light, set up along the side of the fence, and triggered the timer to stop. Angela glanced at the clock reading: 16.56 seconds. Good enough for third place.

Angela glanced back at the cowgirl, who had her horse under control as he jogged out of the gate and headed back toward her trailer while the next contestant repeated the pattern. She watched as the first rider slowed her horse to a walk, the animal’s sides heaving as he caught his breath from the sprint. Instead of stopping and dismounting immediately, she watched as the cowgirl headed back to the warm-up arena and walked her animal for several minutes, cooling him down. She continued to watch the other performers, keeping her eyes out for any sort of animal neglect, but saw nothing for her story.

She glanced toward Derek’s trailer and saw him exit. Taking a moment to appreciate his masculine perfection, she watched him tighten his mount’s cinch before hopping into the saddle. He rode through the gate and into the arena, looking like her knight in a cowboy hat at that moment.

D
EREK RUBBED HIS
jaw with his thick leather glove. He needed to concentrate on their final event, but he wasn’t sure what to do about Angela’s father. He couldn’t let him wander around, finding any alcohol the crew might have. He would need to find something to keep the man occupied, where he wouldn’t need to be watched 24/7.

Derek unlatched the rope he had on the front of his saddle as the first bulls were sent into the chutes and rode to his brother’s side. “You know Sydney hates it when you insist on being in here.”

“You made it back pretty quickly.” Scott gave him a confident smirk. “And Sydney knows it’s part of the job.”

“And I know my sister-in-law. What did you promise her in return?” Derek arched a brow, guiding his horse closer to the chutes, watching the animals intently.

Scott laughed. “I promised her we could start trying to have another baby.”

Derek looked back at his brother, surprised. “You sure it’s worth the price? She drives a hard bargain.”

“Would you mind having another one like Kassie around? Besides, I missed being in here.” Scott shrugged. “You know how it is. It’s a rush and when you don’t have it, life seems a bit slow.”

“I’d be happy with slow right now.” He shifted his gaze to Angela in the announcer’s booth.

Scott arched a brow at his brother but remained silent as the announcer started the heavy metal music meant to get the crowd excited for the coming bull riding event.

They rode together to stand at the corner of the arena as the rodeo clowns entered, rolling padded barrels in front of them. “Are you sure this is trouble we even want to deal with?”

Derek glared at his brother but knew it was a legitimate concern. “It will be fine.”

Scott shook his head, looking down at his saddle. “I sure hope so. Has Angela given up yet on her story?”

“Not exactly.” Derek didn’t want to explain Angela’s reasons for not dropping the story to his brother. He was just starting to understand what drove her, especially after meeting her father. She claimed to need the story to land a better job, but he recognized the truth. The reality of the situation was that Angela was trying to escape the origin of their loss and wanted to help her father do the same.

A
NGELA HEARD THE
commotion below the announcer’s booth and looked over the edge in time to see a bull in the chute tossing his head as one of the riders tried to settle on its back. She heard cowboys shouting as the announcer was commentating the ride already taking place in the arena. The bull in the arena thrashed, twisting wildly and rocking from his front legs to his back. She thought she recognized the bull in the arena as Buffalo, one of the animals Derek had shown her. She’d petted the sweet, docile animal at the ranch. Seeing him in the arena with a cowboy hanging on to the flat rope wrapped around his massive chest, she was awed by the extent of power he exuded. It was a raw, dangerous explosion of strength and might. The cowboy hung on, his body shifting forward and back, sliding slightly to the right as the animal spun to the left just moments before he fell from the animal. The cowboy reached for the part of the rope hanging but couldn’t grasp it.

Derek and Scott immediately moved their horses in closer as the rodeo clown ran straight for the bull’s head to distract the animal. Derek moved his mount close to the bull’s left side as Scott edged behind the bull rider. A second clown moved in and released the cowboy’s hand before running to jump into the padded barrel. Scott reached down, helping the cowboy onto his horse’s back as the bull turned its filed horns toward Derek, twisting his head before turning his attention toward the clown on the ground. The clown urged the bull to follow him toward the barrel. With the rider moved to safety, Derek signaled the cowboy manning the back gate and herded the bull toward it and his pen.

Angela breathed a sigh of relief until she realized that she would be forced to watch Derek in the same danger with every ride for the next two days. She looked around for Sydney, wondering how she dealt with the strain of watching her husband in this position every weekend. She glanced at the trailers and saw her seated in a folding chair with Kassie sleeping against her chest while she talked with one of the barrel racers she’d seen compete earlier. Angela wondered if she’d stayed at the trailer because of Kassie or because she couldn’t bear to watch her husband in the arena with these massive beasts.

She looked away from Sydney in time to spot her father leaving the trailer he was sharing with Derek and Scott. Looking back at the arena, she sighed, realizing she would miss the rest of the event. Her father was her responsibility and she had to keep an eye on him, even here. She hurried down the wooden staircase behind the chutes, wondering where he might have disappeared. She found him searching a nearby ice chest.

“Looking for a cold one?” She shook her head as she approached him.

“I’m thirsty.”

“You can’t drink here.”

Her father scoffed at her. “Take a look around.” He waved toward a stand nearby selling beer and hot dogs. His voice was hoarse with sleep and sobriety.

“No,
you
can’t drink here.” She took a step closer to him. “We are guests. This is my job. If I don’t get this story, we’re done.”

“We’ll manage. We have before. I want to go home,” he complained.

Why couldn’t he seem to understand? If she didn’t get this story, they didn’t have a home to go back to. She’d already spent rent on his bail. She would give anything to be able to walk away and never look back. But he was her father, even if he was a poor excuse for one, and she’d never doubted his feelings for her. He loved her in his own way.

“I have nothing left and spent rent the last time I bailed you out. If I don’t get a story, we have no home.” He started to interrupt her but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I can’t afford to bail you out anymore. We have
no
money left. None. I’ve been begging Joe for advances on my salary and he won’t give me any more. The only reason you’re even out now is because Derek bailed you out. You owe him your gratitude, not this . . .” she said, waving her hand at the ice chest.

Her father leaned back against Derek’s truck and narrowed his eyes before giving her a tentative grin. “You like this guy.”

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to get into a discussion about Derek with her father. The less he knew about Derek and his family, the better. But it was good to see a smile on his face, one that wasn’t induced by alcohol. “I’m trying to keep you safe and out of jail again.”

Her father took a deep breath. “I need a beer,” he muttered.

“No,” she insisted, arching a single brow, “you don’t.”

He sighed in resignation. “Can I at least get something to eat?”

Angela searched his face. “Come on, I’ll see if there’s anything in my trailer.” She led him to the fifth-wheel, introducing him to Sydney before she went inside and urged him to sit at the table.

“I know what you’re doing.” He glanced up at her as she fixed him a sandwich.

“I’m not doing anything.” She slapped a slice of bread on top and rolled her eyes.

Her father stared down at his hands in front of him. “You think you can fix me. Your mother couldn’t, what makes you think you can?” He looked despondent as he buried his face in his shaking palms.

Angela stared at him, dumbfounded. She slipped into the chair across from him and reached for his hand. “I promise. I’m going to get you some help. Dad, I’m not giving up on you.” She slid the plate in front of him. “You need some food. Eat.” She bent and placed a kiss on his forehead.

She left him in the trailer and saw the stands emptying. Several cowboys headed toward a table Mike had set up behind the chutes with the rodeo secretary to distribute the day’s purse winnings for each event. She glanced back at the trailer, praying her father would stay inside. She noticed her hands shaking and fisted them at her chest, longing for Derek’s arms to chase away the hopelessness she’d heard in her father’s voice and the despair she could feel creeping up on her. She’d hoped that one day her father would see all she was doing to try to help him, to save him from himself, and he would want to change, for her. But his question echoed in her mind: If her mother’s love hadn’t been enough to convince him to stop drinking, what could she do?