The Bull Rider's Secret--A Wholesome Western Romance

by Jill Lynn

  “The vet’s here. I was working!”

  “And avoiding.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She released a pent-up argh, with a few extra letters and syllables added on. “This is a fun little argument we’re having, but I should get back out there.” Her hand snaked out. Patted him on the arm twice. “You have a good drive. Be safe, okay?” And then she pushed past him, as if he was going to let that be their goodbye. As if they didn’t mean far more to each other than that.

  “No. We’re leaving things right this time.” Jace caught her arm midstride and tugged her close, wrapping her up tightly. She didn’t struggle to break away, and the slightest shiver raced through her. I love you, Kenzie Rae. Always have. Always will. I’m sorry I have to do this. I’m sorry. Saying any of it out loud would only wound, so he didn’t. Jace just held on.

  * * *

  How was this pain “right”? There was no right in this scenario. Jace had made his decision, and Mackenzie didn’t get a say, just like the last time.

  She was mad at him about that. She was mad about a lot of things right now. For the past few days, she’d been determined to hold herself together. To survive Jace’s departure the second time around. To fight the belief that she wasn’t enough of a reason for him to stay. To trust that it was about Evan and not her.

  So far she was failing miserably on all counts.

  Mackenzie buried her nose in Jace’s shirt and inhaled—soap and deodorant and something inexplicably him. Everything about him was comfort.

  And everything about him leaving was torture. A huge part of her had hoped he would just up and leave like the last time. Spare her the pain of this goodbye.

  “You need to let go of me.” And yet she didn’t loosen her hold of him. “Someone is going to come by and find us like this.”

  Jace laughed as he released her. “Like Trista and Nick? They’d have to write you up.”

  She pointed. “They’d write you up. I didn’t start this.”

  Jace caught her hand, threading his fingers through hers. Mackenzie’s logic screamed that she should untangle from him, but the rest of her wishy-washy self confirmed the truth—it was too late. Too late not to love him again. Too late to save herself.

  “You’ve got some good staff around here. I’m going to miss them and this place.”

  “They’ve come far this summer.” And a number of them had already asked about returning next year, so they wouldn’t have another rebuilding season.

  They wouldn’t have another summer of Jace either.

  Mackenzie was trying to believe that was a good thing. That maybe when Jace left this time, she’d actually be able to let him go for good.

  “I’m going to miss you more.”

  “Stop it. Don’t go there.” Her head shook, and her heart—it bogged down in her chest, lodging between her ribs, each beat sending out new shards of glass that pricked and bled and tore up her insides. “Now I understand why you left a note last time.”

  “I’m sorry for leaving.” Jace’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You could wait for me, you know.”

  Disbelief flared, irritation turning her skin to flames. “You’re going back to rodeoing when I completely disagree with that plan...you’re leaving me a second time after I begged you not to stay at the beginning of the summer...and now you want me to wait for you? For how long? Until you can’t function? Until you develop CTE? Until you break something for good or get paralyzed? How long, Jace?”

  He didn’t have an immediate answer for her tirade. “You’re right.” His hand scraped the hair at the base of his neck. Where her fingers used to go whenever they pleased. But everything about this man was off-limits. If he was going to injure himself further, she couldn’t take part in that. Couldn’t support him.

  And she definitely couldn’t wait. Mackenzie had realized something earlier this week, when she’d been gearing up for him to leave all over again—she’d already been waiting for seven years. Waiting for Jace to come back to her. Waiting to know the truth.

  And both of those things had happened, but it wasn’t enough. Not unless he chose himself over this sport. Not unless he put aside his guilt over Evan’s accident once and for all.

  “I can’t wait for you, because I’m afraid you’ll never return.” Not in one piece. Not without the kind of injury that would keep him off a bull forever. Because what else would get the man to quit? He’d already been riding for seven years—and that didn’t even include competing in high school. That was a long time. A lot of injuries. “There’s nothing wrong with being done, you know. It’s not quitting or failing. It’s just being smart.”

  The brown pools of his eyes were mournful. “I can see how you’d think that, but we’ve already had this discussion. I’ve already made my decision. I have to go back.”

  “Fine.” Mackenzie crossed her arms, thinking maybe if she did, they would keep her body from crumbling into pieces. “Then go.”

  A sigh wrenched from Jace, and then he cradled her face with his hands. His eyes held a message, but he didn’t speak. Didn’t explain or confirm or deny the love written there.

  He just kissed her. His lips were familiar and warm and strong, and inside she was breaking into tiny chips of stone. It was the most painful kiss Mackenzie had ever experienced. Her hands itched to reach out and grip his T-shirt, but she fisted them instead. She couldn’t hold on to him right now. It hurt too much. Her body smarted and stung in places she hadn’t even known existed.

  Jace finally let go, and then his departure was swift. He strode out of the saddle room, and she stayed put, unable to move. She waited, picturing him leaving the barn. Jogging over to his truck. Tearing down the ranch drive. Walking out of her life. Leaving her behind. Again.

  Five minutes later she was still glued to the same spot, unable to make her boots move, worried her beaten and bruised body was just going to give up and quit on her.

  At least if it did, all of this would hurt less.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jace parked in front of his mom’s house. Another goodbye to check off his list, and he was still reeling from the last one. From seeing Mackenzie so upset and knowing he was the cause. Why had he stayed on at Wilder Ranch?

  He should have listened to her from the start. She’d been right. There was no “just friends” when it came to the two of them. He didn’t have that button with Kenzie Rae. It was all or nothing.

  Jace wanted all of her, but she wanted nothing to do with him if he planned to keep riding. They were at a stalemate.

  After knocking on his mom’s door, Jace tried the knob. It twisted in his grip, so he stepped inside. “Mom.” His bellow echoed and slammed against the walls of the small living room.

  “Back here,” she called out from down the hall, appearing a few seconds later in pink-and-green-plaid pajama pants and a robe, her shoulder-length hair disheveled.

  “You okay?”

  She waved a hand. “I’m fine. Just had a tough night—that’s all. You know I have trouble sleeping sometimes.” Her lungs clamored for air, the wheezing taking a knife to Jace’s already weighted-with-guilt chest. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Warm liquid usually helps calm things down. Do you want anything?”

  It was at least ninety degrees out, so no, Jace didn’t. “I’m good, thanks.” He followed his mom through the doorway and into the kitchen. Her hands shook ever so slightly as she got out a mug, warmed up water and decided which kind of tea to have.

  “Mom, you’ve got to take better care of yourself.” Jace tempered his scolding with a quiet tone and hopefully some grace he didn’t feel. “I’ve been talking to you about this all summer. It’s part of why I came back to Westbend.” And now he was leaving and obviously hadn’t accomplished anything. Not if her symptoms were still keeping her up at night.

  She bobbed the te
a bag in the water. “I’m fine, honey. You don’t need to worry.”

  “What has the doctor told you recently? Because I can tell your symptoms are worsening.”

  “Dr. Sanderson said I’m doing fine. As fine as I can be while fighting this disease. You can call him yourself and ask.”

  And wasn’t that the worst of it? The emphysema had a mind of its own. Jace couldn’t prevent it from worsening. He could only push her to slow down, and hope and pray it helped.

  Mom opened the fridge and added a squeeze of lemon to her tea. “Are you really going to get after me when you’re planning to hightail it out of here and go back to the very thing that injured you?” She let out a huff. “Jace, I don’t think you get to suggest I make changes unless you make some, too.”

  This was not how he’d wanted this conversation to go. He’d been hoping for you’re right and I’ll slow down. “My stuff is different.”

  Smile cresting, she picked up her tea and patted him lightly on the cheek. “Okay, honey.” She moved into the living room and sat on the sofa, and he paced in front of it.

  “You could at least quit one of your jobs, Mom.”

  “Which one? I like both of them.”

  Jace barely resisted rolling his eyes. “Keep the one that’s less stressful and pays you more. Quit the after-hours stocking at the five-and-dime.”

  She took a sip of tea and shrugged. “I actually like working, Jace. It keeps me busy. Gives me something to live for. People to see. What do you want me to do? Hole up in this house and die?”

  Jace was beginning to grow a headache, and this time he had no doubt as to the reason for it. “I want you to live, Mom. Take a walk. Volunteer somewhere, if that makes you happy. But there’s no need to continue working two jobs. I’ve sent you enough money that you shouldn’t have to.”

  She plunked her mug onto the side table and squared her shoulders in his direction. “I’ve never used any of that money.”

  “What?”

  “I put it aside. It’s yours, and I never wanted it. I put it into a separate savings account. It’s been earning pretty good interest.”

  No way. Jace dropped onto the other end of the couch. “The whole point of me sending that money was to alleviate some of your stress.” He stopped to swallow, to will his voice down from angry to reasonable. “Allow you to work less. Heal. Give your body a break.”

  “I know. But I really didn’t need it. And it was nice having it in case of an emergency. It did provide that comfort for me.” Mom cradled her tea and shifted so that she leaned back against the armrest and faced him on the couch. “I love you for watching out for me. You and Evan both. You’re the best sons I could ever ask for. And you’re not one thing like your father, either one of you. I’d love to take credit for that, but I’m starting to think it was just the grace of God. That He watched out for and protected you two. Kept you from bad choices. Even with Evan’s accident, I can look back and see so many ways that God was in his recovery details. For a long time I thought God had abandoned us. But now I know He didn’t.”

  It was so good to hear his mom talk about God like this. To know she’d found her way back after the hard stuff she’d endured. Jace wasn’t sure how to respond about the money, but he did know that.

  “I was thinking the money would make a nice down payment on a place for you one day. I thought maybe...maybe you’d come back to Westbend.”

  Jace had considered buying a place near Westbend, once or twice over the years. But at the time, coming home with Mackenzie still angry at him hadn’t exactly been a draw.

  And now he was right back to square one with her.

  He winced thinking about how he’d asked her to wait for him. Her reply had been spot-on. For how long? He didn’t know. And he shouldn’t expect her to sit around, pining for him, after all of this time.

  “You don’t have to tell me what you do with it. But it’s yours. It’s there when you need it.”

  “Fine.” What was the point in arguing? “But will you just consider going down to one job? Just...pray about it.”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Pulling out the big guns, are ya?”

  “Maybe. I’m not saying you have to use the money. But if you do decide to slow down a little, it could still be there as a backup. And you should keep any interest, because that was all you.”

  Her head shook as her smile grew. “You always were very convincing, even as a kid.” The home phone rang, and she pushed up from the couch, snagging it from the top of the TV cabinet. “It’s your brother.”

  “Don’t answer!” Missed calls from Evan had been piling up on Jace’s phone, more so in the last two weeks. “I don’t want him to know I’m here. I don’t want to talk to him.” More like he didn’t want to hear what his brother had to say.

  “Are you crazy? Of course I’m answering. He’s usually someplace where he can’t call.” She switched the receiver on and greeted Evan.

  Jace stood. He should really get going. Things—like that goodbye to Mackenzie—kept stretching out, taking up extra time. But he couldn’t exactly sneak out while his mom was on the phone, could he?

  “He wants to talk to you.” She held out the receiver, and Jace muffled a groan.

  How could he say no? The phone was being jiggled under his nose. Evan could probably hear if he so much as inhaled.

  Jace would just have to make it quick. He palmed the receiver. “Hey, E. What’s up?”

  “Heard you’re a big ole mess, little brother.” Evan’s teasing came through the line clear, and with it a slew of childhood memories. Times his brother had stood up for him. Protected him. Times they’d played army as boys. Rode their bikes until the mountains swallowed the sun.

  “Nothing I didn’t learn from you.” Their exchange felt like home, and Jace’s shoulders notched down as his brother’s familiar laughter sounded. “Where are you this week?”

  “Appalachian Trail. I’m about to take out a group.”

  “That’s great.” Evan had found a way up and through his handicap and now led trips for others who were recovering from various traumas. He’d done amazing things with his life, and what did Jace have to show for his own?

  Not much at the moment.

  “Mom says you’re going back to riding and she thinks you shouldn’t.”

  Jace stepped outside and copped a seat on the front step. So much for getting out of town quickly.

  “Mom is just overconcerned.”

  “Really? No one else is? What’s your doctor say?”

  I’d quit now... I’ve seen too many lives taken or changed forever by this sport. Jace didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t plan to share that information with Evan.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No. It’s just... He gave me some advice. But you know bull riding. It’s a guessing game. I could come back and have my best season yet.”

  “Or the worst.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It’s not about you or your skill level. Things just happen in bull riding that are out of your control. What is it that’s pulling you back to riding? The money? Competing? Because you don’t know what else you’d do? I’ll help with Mom if you level with me.”

  All of the above and more. Discomfort shimmied up Jace’s spine.

  “And if you can’t tell me why you have to go back now, then help me understand why you picked up the sport in the first place. I’ve always wondered...” Quiet tension expanded. “J, did you start competing because of me?” His brother didn’t tiptoe into an awkward conversation; he leaped.

  That scene from their childhood flashed back—Evan sprawled out on the floor, his face red with frustration. “You told me to, remember?”

  “I told you to? When did I ever say something like that?”


  “After your accident. You were upset. Tearing down the posters in your room. You told me to live your dreams. To not let anything hold me back.”

  “Huh. That’s not how I remember it.”

  A golf ball jammed Jace’s throat. “How do you remember it?”

  “I was angry.”

  “I’ve got that part down.”

  “Grieving a childhood dream. You walked in on your two legs, and I was upset at the thought that you didn’t realize what you had. No one really does until it’s gone. I may have said something about being thankful for your abilities or chasing your dreams. Or even mine. I’m not sure. But I didn’t mean for you to ride bulls because of me. I was still a kid, J. I was mad at the world, and my rampage really didn’t have anything to do with you.” A sigh rang in his ear. “I’m sure I just wanted you to live, to take advantage of what you had.”

  The ball of worry slid into his gut and expanded. Evan actually made sense. Jace had never been able to remember the exact words his brother had spoken. Only the way they’d been fired at him. The heat behind them. The guilt he’d felt. Jace had seen the posters, the loss of his brother’s dream, and he’d wanted to make that up to him somehow. As if pursuing riding would wipe out his part in what had happened.

  “Your accident was my fault, you know.”

  A beat of silence followed his declaration. “Really? How do you figure that? Did you give the mower a shove?”

  “Of course not.” Jace swallowed, wishing it would add some moisture to his dry-as-a-bone mouth. “It was my job to mow that day. If I would have done my—”

  “Then maybe you would have lost your leg instead of me?”

  “I wouldn’t have, because I wasn’t allowed to use the riding mower.”

  “Oh, J. I knew it was your job. But you were a kid. I also knew it would take me half the time on the neighbor’s mower, so I did it for you. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Dad was such a jerk when we were growing up. Never around and worthless when he was. I probably felt some sense of responsibility regarding you. We’re all messed up in our own ways, brother. Just because you didn’t mow doesn’t make the accident your fault. I’m the one who was completely distracted that day. I’m the one who didn’t turn the thing off before checking why it wasn’t running right. If I could go back and do things differently, I would, but it happened. I can’t change that, and I’m not about to sit at home and cry all day. At least not anymore. I have a life, and I’m living it. Are you living yours? Or are you living mine?”