Around Carma, cheers broke out while she gulped for air. Beni and Quint pounded each other’s backs. Gil’s strides lengthened as his chin came up, but Carma saw the telltale loosening in his shoulders.
Relief. He’d shown them all he wasn’t just a quirky side note to the real story…and anyone who hadn’t been paying attention before definitely was now.
Chapter 40
Gil was swarmed before he got out the arena gate. A barrage of hands slapped his shoulders, the sting a welcome reassurance that yes, this was real, not another fever dream.
The breath he’d barely caught went out of him in an Oof! as Delon caught him in a bear hug. “Goddamn! God-damn! That was sweet, bro!”
Joe and Steve pushed through the mob to add a few more thumps and congratulations, and Gil rode the wave of triumph clear back to where he’d left his gear bag. Exhilaration sang in his veins, more intoxicating than any booze on earth.
“Dad! Dad!” Quint came thundering down the bleacher stairs to lean dangerously far over the railing above Gil’s head. “That was awesome!”
Gil clasped the hand he thrust down, a new, even more potent high jolting through him at the sight of his son’s face, lit with pride. Even if he washed out in tonight’s short round, Quint had seen him doing the thing he loved most, and doing it well.
He tipped back his hat and swiped an arm across his damp forehead, leaving a streak of sweat and dust on his sleeve.
He looked past the boys, hoping Carma had followed them down for a congratulatory…something. She and Lily were huddled over a tablet—watching a replay of his ride?—while Violet leaned in, pointing and gesturing.
Beni caught the direction of his gaze. “Mom’s got the contestant list and stock draw. They’re trying to figure out who’s left to ride that might have a chance to beat you.”
“You won’t get bumped out of the top ten,” Quint said with conviction.
“Nah, he’s safe,” Beni agreed. “But there’s a few big guns left, and since they combine this score with tonight’s to decide who makes the top four…”
Gil couldn’t afford to spot those veterans too many points. But it was out of his control, so he’d let everyone else speculate and calculate. He needed a drink—of water—something solid to eat, and Carma.
When he opened his gear bag to stow his gear, his phone was buzzing. There were a dozen texts. He ignored all of them and sent Carma a GIF of a relieved SpongeBob wiping sweat from his brow.
Whew!
She sent back a meme of the Rock doing his famous eyebrow thing.
Too easy, man.
He laughed, then shrugged out of his vest, peeled off his chaps, and packed both into his bag before heading to the stripping chute to fetch his rigging. Not a quick trip, with someone stopping him every few feet to shake his hand. Half of them were complete strangers.
He finally grabbed his rigging, looked to where Carma had been sitting, and saw only his mother, Miz Iris, and a baby stroller. He shoved through the crowd to where Beni and Quint had settled in by the railing.
“Where’d everybody go?” he asked.
“Carma hasn’t had Tex-Mex since she got here, so they dragged her off to that place downtown,” Beni said.
“They left?” So much for that ten-minute kiss he’d planned to lay on her.
“They said they’re getting bleacher butt from sitting here so long,” Quint said. “And Grandma’s gonna text them the scores during the next section, so…”
Something in the glance that passed between the boys set Gil’s uh-oh radar humming. He eyed the empty chairs, doing a mental tally. The Jacobs crew had driven to Amarillo in pickups hauling trailers loaded with bucking horses, and Gil assumed the others had ridden along with them. Which meant their only transportation would be…
“They took the Charger.” The barely restrained violence in his voice made the boys cringe. Sweet hell. That crew, turned loose in his car. He had a blood-chilling vision of Melanie smoking his tires on Polk Street. Or God forbid, Lily. She could barely see over the dashboard. “How’d they get the keys?”
“Um…Dad got them out of your gear bag,” Beni said, then hurried to add, “Melanie made him do it.”
“Who’s driving?”
“Carma,” Quint said. “They figured you probably wouldn’t throttle her.”
Gil drew a deep, careful breath. She’d driven that van clear across the country with not so much as a scratch. Surely his car was safe in her hands. In a strange city. In the busiest part of the day.
He breathed until he was sure he could sound calm. “As long as she doesn’t let any of those other maniacs touch the wheel.”
“Whoa.” Beni made wide eyes at his cousin. “You weren’t kidding.”
Quint smirked. “Told you.”
“What?” Gil demanded.
“You didn’t even…” Beni flung up both hands to mimic an exploding head. “You must be in love.”
Oh, for Christ’s sake. Now these two? Gil pinned his nephew with his best death glare. “That is none of your business.”
Beni grinned. “See? Denial…the first sign.”
Gil sighed and bent to tuck his rigging and glove safely away and touch his fingers to Carma’s sky stone, his pulse thrumming. He’d done it.
One down. One more chance to ride.
In the meantime, it looked like he would be spending some quality time with the boys.
* * *
Three hours later, Gil wasn’t feeling quite so magnanimous. His car and Carma still weren’t back, but she had texted that they were stopping by to visit Tori at the clinic and meet Beth.
Leaving Gil with nothing to do but try not to think.
No damn wonder rodeo life had made him a problem drinker. The waiting was torture, and the guys in the last section had shown no mercy. He’d had to watch his score get knocked down the leaderboard three times, by eighty-six-, eighty-five-, and eighty-four-point rides.
That was a lot of ground for Gil to make up in the two-ride aggregate.
Unable to sit, he paced the length of the mezzanine, deserted in the break before the evening’s competition. Delon and Wyatt had wandered over to one of the other fairgrounds arenas to watch the qualifying rounds for the team ropers—Delon so he could report the results back to Tori, and Wyatt because Melanie had turned him into a bona fide twine twirler. Miz Iris and Rochelle had taken Lily’s baby and strolled to yet another arena to watch the barrel racers.
Steve, Joe, and the boys were busy sorting horses. Through the open garage doors behind the chutes, Gil could hear the shouts and clanging steel gates as crews loaded the afternoon’s stock onto trucks and trailers, making space for fresh horses and bulls. Tonight’s broncs were all the kind cowboys loved to get on—lots of jump and kick, not too much power, and no dirty tricks. Ride ’em right and you’d be in the mideighties every time.
But the user-friendly horses meant Gil couldn’t count on any of the top cowboys getting thrown off, or even making a big mistake. A pair of eighty-five scores was a hundred and seventy points on two head. Gil would have to be ninety on his next ride to match it, ninety-one to win. Plus there were three cowboys with eighty-two points in the opening round. If they scored—
Stop! Geezus. He mashed his candy-bar wrapper into a tight ball and slammed it into a trash can. There was no strategizing to be done—only Gil, the horse that was drawn for him, and eight seconds of maximum effort. But he couldn’t try too hard or get too wild. He had to find that perfect balance, ride the very crest of the adrenaline wave without tipping over the edge.
And not psych himself out before he climbed over the back of the chute.
His skin prickled with millions of supercharged molecules zinging around like pinballs, pummeling his nerve endings. His muscles twitched, craving action. Back in the bad old days, this was when he would’ve toss
ed back a couple of drinks to take the edge off. Or coaxed Krista into blowing off some steam with him. Now here he was with no booze and no woman.
He had to get out of this building. Away from the combined aromas of buttered popcorn, arena dirt, and the burning desire to win. He crossed the front lobby and paused at the main entrance doors. Hello. There was the Charger, just pulling into the far end of the parking lot reserved for contestants.
Gil smiled and stepped outside to lean in the shade of the portico, where he could watch and wait. And maybe talk her into sneaking off for a little pregame warm-up.
* * *
When she spotted Gil lying in wait, Carma seriously considered just staying in the car. She could leave the air-conditioner running, tip the seat back, and sleep off their massive lunch, not to mention the round of celebratory margaritas.
But it would probably be better to hand over the keys to Gil in front of witnesses.
She popped another piece of peppermint gum into her mouth to cover all trace of her sins, then stepped out, squinting into the brilliant sunlight. Hooves clopped on pavement as ropers and barrel racers made their way across the parking lot from the various arenas.
Carma barely noticed, her gaze locked on the lean, dark male lounging by the coliseum doors, projecting menace from fifty yards away.
“Carma?”
Her head jerked around, and her stomach felt as if it did the same before dropping to her rhinestone flip-flops. “Jayden.”
As Carma stared at him, frozen in place, Melanie and Violet moved to the front of the car, assuming identical postures—arms crossed, feet planted, eyes narrowed. Lily joined them, a belligerent Smurf beside a pair of Amazons.
“I…um…” Need to get my shit together. She made a concerted effort to gather herself. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Jayden’s gaze flicked to the car, then back to her. “I guess you’ve been too busy to notice I was entered.”
“Um, yeah. Sorry.” For what? She wasn’t in charge of him anymore.
His horse shuffled impatiently, and he laid a hand on its neck. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have a few minutes.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please.” For once, there was no pout. No whine. Just a quiet request. “I don’t want to leave things ugly, after everything.”
“Don’t go unless you want to.” Lily eyed Jayden up and down. “If he won’t back off, we can take him.”
Carma was sure they could—but so could she. Except…
She glanced toward where Gil had straightened, looking as if he might come storming across the lot. “This isn’t the best time,” she told Jayden.
“I’m leaving as soon as we pack up, headed north.”
“Tough luck today?” Melanie asked, with zero sympathy.
“Yeah.” Jayden shrugged, surprisingly unperturbed. “We drew a runner and ended up one place out of the top fifteen.”
A year ago he would’ve been kicking trailer fenders and ranting about his shitty luck. And he wasn’t happy now, but he was dealing with the disappointment.
He gave Carma a coaxing smile. “Just a few minutes? For the sake of old friends?”
Hell. How could she say no? And it would be good for everyone—Gil included—if she put this behind her, once and for all. She gave her three musketeers a helpless look. “Would you explain to Gil?”
“Sure.” Violet jerked her chin. “Go on. Do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.”
Lily gave Jayden one last warning glare, then grinned at Carma. “Don’t worry. We can take Gil, too.”
The three women set off to intercept him while Carma fell into step beside Jayden, winding through the maze of pickups and trailers to one with Montana plates. A twinge of homesickness caught her at the sight of the prefix on the license number.
38. Glacier County. Home.
“You look great,” he said.
“Thanks. So do you.”
Better than he had in a long time. His shoulders were more defined, his waist trimmer, like he’d been working out and eating healthier. Yet another bone of contention between them, with Carma constantly nagging him about his family history of high blood pressure and heart disease.
No wonder she’d driven him nuts.
“So…I guess it’s going pretty good down here,” Jayden said, tipping his head toward where the Charger was parked.
“I like it. The people are friendly.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said dryly.
She laughed. “If they’re on your side.”
“And I’m the enemy?”
“Not…exactly.”
He stopped beside the trailer, haltered the horse, then turned to face her, his eyes shadowed by more than the brim of his black hat. “I know I screwed up, Carma. Too many times to count. When I saw you with him down in Huntsville…I guess that was the kick in the head I needed. I wish it wasn’t too late.”
He was sincere. Sad. Resigned. Habit years in the making made her want to go to him. Do or say whatever it took to make it better.
She held her ground. “It wasn’t all you.”
“I know.” There was no accusation in his voice, just resignation. His smile held the memory of all the mistakes, all the near-misses, and all the good times, too. “I miss you.”
Her throat knotted and tears welled, but there was nothing left to say. She almost laughed at the irony of it all. This Jayden and this Carma might’ve actually had a chance.
But she wouldn’t be this woman if it wasn’t for Gil, and from the first time she’d kissed him it had been too late to go back.
Jayden nodded, as if she’d said it out loud. “I hope it works out. After everything we put each other through, you deserve to be happy.”
“But?” Because it was impossible not to hear.
“Everyone is talking about him.” Jayden fidgeted with the bridle he still held. “After that ride he made this morning—you know it’s not gonna end here, like he keeps saying. And if he keeps going, I just wonder where that’s gonna leave you.”
“The same place you did?” she snapped.
He inclined his head, barely flinching at the slap. “I’m not saying you aren’t good enough for anybody, but the Sanchez boys run in pretty fancy company.”
Hearing Jayden say it—the Sanchez boys—made her fists bunch. Those were Gil’s words. His pride and joy. Jayden didn’t get to put his grubby fingerprints all over them.
But he wasn’t wrong.
It was a truth Carma had put off facing, while she clung to the promise of After the Diamond Cowboy…
It wasn’t all going to get easier. Especially not now, when Gil had proven he could still compete. The better he did here, the more likely that he would keep going on down the rodeo road.
And leave Carma in the dust?
She shook her head, as much for herself as for Jayden. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“That’s fair.” He reached out and touched her chin, a gesture so familiar it made time spin backward for a dizzying instant. “But if you ever do need to talk or whatever, you know where to find me.”
She shook her head again. “We’ve used up all our chances.”
His hand dropped. Then he nodded. “Take care of yourself, Carma.”
“You too.”
And for the last time, she turned and walked away from him.
Chapter 41
Gil didn’t mean to pounce the instant he saw Carma, but she stepped onto the mezzanine just as he strode out of the men’s restroom and he nearly mowed her down.
He caught her arms and they ended up face-to-face, chest to chest. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” She went still under his hands, eyes wary. “Great ride.”
“Thanks. It felt good.”
/> “I’ll bet. Do you know what horse you have tonight?”
He shook his head. “They’re not posting the draw until an hour before the rodeo.”
“So pretty soon.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…fingers crossed that you get a good one.”
“Thanks.” Geezus. He could have this conversation with one of those damn reporters. Talk, talk, talk and never say a thing. He loosened his grip so he could get a better look at her. She didn’t look shell-shocked like she had when Jayden showed up in Huntsville. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. The restaurant was awesome, and your friends are amazing.”
They’d said the same. Carma had their unanimous stamp of approval, and that was good, even though it meant Gil had spent the afternoon rattling around at loose ends. “I think you can consider yourself accepted by the Earnest Ladies Club.”
“When do I get my password and secret decoder ring?” The sparkle in her eyes did wonders for his mood.
“You have to ask them. Boys aren’t allowed.” According to Tori, when they called an official meeting, boys couldn’t even be mentioned under penalty of a shot of tequila. And speaking of unwanted men…
“I saw Jayden.” Saw you go off with him, like good old buddies. And didn’t chase you down and strangle him with his own rope. He barely gritted his teeth when he asked, “Everything okay?”
She nodded, getting that skittish look again, as if expecting him to come unglued. “It was something I needed to do. Closure and all that.”
“No loose strings.” He gave himself the pleasure of imagining Jayden dangling off a cliff, and Carma cutting the rope.
She ran her hands over his biceps, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she could read his homicidal thoughts. “He’s hightailing it out of town as we speak.”
“That’s good,” Gil said, both statement and question.
“That’s very good.” She angled an impish look under her lashes. “I would say I was sorry about taking your car, but I’m really, really not.”
“Yeah?” He banished Jayden from his thoughts and ran his hand up to the base of her neck, loving the feel of her hair flowing over his knuckles. Her even-silkier skin bared by another of those soft, flouncy sundresses that he could get underneath in about thirty seconds flat. “You like things that go fast, pretty girl?”
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