Rodeo Hero

by Vannatter, Shannon Taylor;

  “Who you looking for, clown?” Wyatt’s voice grated along every nerve ending.

  He hadn’t liked Wyatt from the get-go, even more so since the scene with Kendra at the wedding and the restaurant. “Just seeing if we got a nice crowd.”

  “Yeah, right. Looking for one particular brunette?”

  “Don’t you have a bull waiting for you?”

  Natalie sashayed toward them. Great, just what he needed. A black belt wouldn’t keep her at arm’s length.

  She passed by him. “Good luck, Wyatt.”

  Stetson relaxed.

  Wyatt scanned her up and down. She plastered herself against him, greeting him with a get-a-room kind of kiss.

  Stetson turned away and vaulted the fence into the arena. His boot heels sank into the dirt as he landed, and then he ambled to the gate. A red bull was already in the chute, ramming at the small enclosure. Stetson sized up the beast. Looked like a spinner.

  ❧

  Rayna’s elbow caught Kendra in the ribs. “Ouch.”

  “Over by the bucking chutes.” Rayna clucked her tongue. “The perfect match.”

  Natalie kissed Wyatt with disgusting abandon.

  “She sure moves fast. Just last week she was after Stetson.” Gabby shook her head.

  “I’m sure she didn’t get anywhere, so she moved on to an easier target.” Stetson caught Kendra’s attention as he sauntered across the arena. “Did y’all cluck your tongue over me in my former life?”

  “At times.” Rayna draped an arm around her shoulder. “But we prayed for you and shared Jesus until you came around.”

  “We Will Rock You” played over the loudspeakers.

  “So why don’t we do that for Natalie?”

  Gabby pressed a hand to her lips. “Why didn’t we long-term Christians think of that?”

  “Because we don’t like her.” Rayna sighed. “Bad Christians. Bad Christians.”

  “Up next, ladies and gentlemen—three-time CBR world champ—Clayyyyy Warrrreeennnn.”

  “Here we go.” Rayna closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine. Just a little prayer sent up.”

  The gate opened, and the bull careened into the arena. Clay rode like the champ that he was with his left hand high in the air, his body in rhythm with every buck and spin. The buzzer sounded. A perfect ride.

  Just like Dalton. Oh, for those long-ago small rodeos at outdoor arenas. And home. The home she hadn’t thought of in years—hadn’t longed for until recently.

  Rayna screamed and Kendra’s fog cleared.

  Clay’s hand was caught in the rope. He tried to keep his feet on the ground, running beside the bull. Every fourth step or so, he lost his footing, helplessly flopping at the bull’s every move and sliding dangerously underneath its hooves.

  The bull turned and gored at Clay with massive horns. On the other side of the infuriated creature, Stetson ran alongside, yanking on the rope. Finally Clay’s hand freed and he crumpled to the ground. The bull charged.

  Another bloodcurdling scream. Kendra wrapped her arms around Rayna.

  Stetson cut in front of the bull as it closed in on Clay. A horn caught Stetson under the seat of his floppy overalls, but he kept running. The bull pursued Stetson, allowing Clay time to jump up and launch himself over the fence. Stetson leaped over after him. The bull rounded the arena, looking for its next target. The pickup man roped the bull’s horns and pulled the beast to the exit gate.

  Kendra blew out a sigh and turned toward a teary-eyed Rayna. “Clay’s okay.”

  At least Rayna wasn’t having an asthma attack.

  “Yes. Thanks to God. And Stetson.”

  “Here he comes.” Gabby pointed to Clay bolting around the walkway of the arena.

  He darted over to Rayna and engulfed her in his arms. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, sniffling against his chest. “I’m fine. Since you are.”

  Tears pricked Kendra’s eyes. Such a beautiful picture of pure devotion. Intact, thanks to God. And Stetson.

  ❧

  Stetson headed to the coliseum’s back exit. He’d be sore tomorrow. He could already feel the bruising.

  “Stetson,” Clay called. “Thanks for watching my back.”

  Kendra and Rayna were with him. At least he’d already taken off his grease paint.

  “No problem.” Stetson shook the hand Clay offered.

  “You’re a true hero.” Emotion threatened to choke Rayna’s words.

  “Just doing my job.”

  “I’m glad you do it so very well.” She gave him a quick hug then reclaimed Clay’s hand.

  The couple continued to the exit, but Kendra lagged behind.

  “Are you okay?”

  “None the worse for wear.”

  “You sure? It looked like the bull hooked you.”

  “Not with the point.” Despite his denial, the soon-to-be bruise throbbed with each footstep. “I might not be able to sit tomorrow, but I’m okay. Thanks for asking. Can I walk you to your car?”

  She thought for a moment, eyes narrowed. “I guess.”

  He fell in stride beside her.

  “That was really impressive. I’d never paid attention to what the clowns—I mean, bullfighters—do. You’re very quick on your feet.”

  “I have to be.” He held the door open for her. The heat had cooled slightly with the evening. “Is Rayna okay? She seemed kind of shaky.”

  “Bull riding terrifies her. In fact, her relationship with Clay almost fell apart earlier this year because of his profession.”

  Stetson nodded. It all made sense now. “So that’s why he’s quitting after this season.”

  “Not completely.” Kendra hooked her thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans. “He’s tired of traveling, and Mel Gentry’s death last year really affected him. They were best friends.”

  “He was a good man. I see his widow at the rodeos sometimes. It’s sad.”

  “His death did a number on Rayna, too. That’s why I come—to support her.”

  He’d hoped she came to see him.

  “If we can just get Clay through this final season in one piece, they can have their ‘happily ever after.’ And if anyone deserves it, they do.”

  Despite the shadows, he felt her gaze on him.

  “You and Clay sure became fast friends.”

  “We have a lot in common. Our dads were both bull riders.”

  “Did they know each other?”

  “No. My dad traveled the rodeos in South Texas, so they never met. But we both love rodeos and the Stockyards. Have you ever seen the cattle drive?”

  “I’ve only come for the rodeo, and usually through the back entrance.”

  He grinned. “So you’ve never ridden the mechanical bull or been to the Cowboy Hall of Fame. How about lunch and a tour tomorrow?”

  With the full moon behind him, his silhouette glowed—like an incredibly handsome angel. “That actually sounds nice, but I’m not so sure about the bull ride.”

  “We’ll see. Let’s keep it casual and hit the Love Shack about noon then do a little touring.”

  Her eyes widened. “Keep it casual? The Love Shack?”

  four

  Stetson’s face heated. “It’s a burger joint. The owner’s last name is Love.”

  “Oh.” Kendra’s gaze darted away.

  “Awesome food. You have to try the Yard Bird Dirty Classic Sandwich.”

  She laughed. “That sounds like an adventure. What is it?”

  “A grilled chicken sandwich with wild-boar bacon and a sunny side quail egg.”

  “Wild-boar bacon?”

  “Tastes like chicken,” he quipped. “Not really, but that’s what people say about everything from frog legs to rattlesnake.”

  “And I always say, why not just eat chicken then?”

  “Good point but rattlesnake doesn’t taste like chicken. It’s more tender than the most tender chicken tenders I ever ate, but it tas
tes a whole lot better. Wild boar is sweeter and leaner than your run-of-the-mill pork.”

  One well-shaped dark eyebrow rose. “You’ve actually eaten rattlesnake.”

  “And I’d like to again. It was still intact in one big, long, coiled-up piece. Yum.”

  She didn’t shudder like most women when he told that story.

  “Here’s my car.”

  Already? He opened the door of the Sebring convertible for her. “I need your address so I can pick you up.”

  “My condo is in Dallas. You’re in Aubrey, aren’t you?”

  He nodded. “I love Fort Worth and all, but it’s much too big to live in.”

  “I’ll just meet you here at noon. It’s a. . .plan.”

  Had she almost said date? If so, why had she changed it? He’d better make sure she understood.

  “I prefer to pick up my dates.” He tipped his hat.

  “Forty-five minutes out of your way?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She dug around in her purse, wrote something on a scrap of paper, and handed it to him. As soon as the convertible’s engine hummed to life, she shut the door, jammed it into gear, and sped off as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

  Stetson frowned. Had she not wanted it to be a date? Was it him? His job? But she’d seemed to understand the importance of bullfighting tonight. Maybe it was Wyatt. Was she over him? Had his lip-lock with Natalie bothered her?

  If that was it, he’d just have to make her forget Wyatt ever existed.

  ❧

  From the Love Shack’s balcony, Kendra looked down on the crowded main street of the Fort Worth Stockyards.

  She savored the last bite of her Love Burger then took a sip of her Arnold Palmer. Okay, so it was half-lemonade and half-tea, but it sounded like something. There was nothing alcoholic on the menu other than beer and wine. Why was that still what she looked for first—even though she wouldn’t have ordered it?

  Especially with Stetson.

  Because she couldn’t relax with the hunk of a cowboy sitting across from her. But drinking had relaxed her inhibitions way too much in the past.

  “It was good, I take it?” He scanned her empty plate.

  “Very. So Rayna said you own horses.” Great. Let him know you asked about him. Maybe he’d think Rayna volunteered the info.

  “Ten acres, an old money-pit of a house, and some horses and cattle. Nothing like Clay’s spread, but it’s a start.”

  Kendra swallowed hard. Just what she needed—a clown with a farm.

  He downed the rest of his tea. “Rayna said y’all are working on a campaign for a women’s clothing line.”

  “It’s coming along.” Boring. Not even any nice-looking men to photograph. But the best-looking man she’d seen in ages sat across from her. Definitely male-model material. So what if he wore makeup to work.

  She bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face and ask about his other job. “Tell me about being a youth director. What made you choose that path?”

  “Let’s just say—it chose me.” Stetson picked up his hat and settled it back in place. “My mom met my stepdad at our church near San Antonio. After they started dating, he answered the call to be a youth director. They got married, and we moved to a church in Denton. He had a big impact on me, especially as a teen. I followed in his footsteps.”

  “You’re really too perfect. Saving cowboys and youth.”

  “I’m definitely not perfect.”

  If you say so.

  “Besides, God does the saving on both counts. Are you ready for our tour?”

  “Sure.” She dug two packages of wet wipes from her purse and handed him one.

  He wiped his hands and grinned. “I feel like I’m with my mom. But you sure don’t look like my mom.”

  She shuddered. She certainly didn’t feel like his mom. “When’s the cattle drive?”

  He checked his watch. “Any minute. We could stay here and watch.”

  “Oh, no.” Kendra stood. “I want to be down in the middle of things.”

  “All righty then, allow me.” He offered his arm.

  She hesitated for a moment then obeyed. Her fingers met rock-hard biceps.

  So much for relaxing. “I like your hat.” The words popped out.

  “Thanks.”

  “I mean, most of the guys wear black hats. White fits your character.”

  “Stick around and I might let you wear it.”

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She’d like to. Maybe they weren’t so different. She definitely had more experience than Stetson-Do-Wright, but that was all behind her. This was now. And if she was reading him right—Stetson liked her.

  And he gave her the shivers. On a regular basis.

  ❧

  Stetson’s heart sank to his stomach.

  A familiar redhead waved from behind the low rock wall in front of the Stockyards Visitors’ Center. Rayna. And Gabby. Both sweet, but he didn’t want to share Kendra today. Today was about getting to know her better—one-on-one.

  Adam and Clay stood near their women. Great. A triple date.

  “What are these?” Kendra stepped away from the bronze plaque engraved with a star and embedded in the street. “James ‘Wild Bill’ Hickok. It’s not his grave, is it?”

  “No. It’s the Texas Trail of Fame. Folks who contributed to the heritage of the Old West are honored here.”

  “He was a marshal, wasn’t he?”

  “Among other things. You must have paid attention in history class.”

  “Why are the sidewalks and streets brick?”

  “The brick gave the longhorns good footing and kept them clean and healthy for the meat-processing plants.”

  “It’s kind of sad. They traveled for miles just to get here and”—she slashed her hand across her throat.

  “I never thought about it like that.”

  “Why do the bricks say Thurber?”

  “Thurber is a ghost town about seventy miles west. In its heyday, they had a brick-making kiln.”

  “It must have cost a mint.”

  “Brick wasn’t as expensive when the stockyards were built, and the stockyards brought in lots of money for lots of ranchers, so I reckon it was worth every brick.” Kendra hadn’t seen their friends, but it would be rude not to join them. He pointed to them. “There’s Clay and Adam.”

  “And Rayna and Gabby.” Relief tinged her tone, and she hurried ahead of him. “What are y’all doing back here?”

  “Rayna’s never watched the herd.” Gabby scanned the street as if she was afraid she might miss it. “Can you believe it?”

  Kendra laughed. “Rayna’s about as anti-livestock as they come.”

  “Except when they end up on her plate.” Adam winced as Rayna jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “Ow.”

  Police officers blocked off the street and cautioned spectators not to sit on the curb. Stetson peered over the throng. “We won’t be able to see anything back here.”

  “Rayna wants this wall between her and the longhorns.” Clay grinned. “She’s a bit nervous.”

  “They’re about to turn a herd of Texas longhorns loose.” White-knuckled, Rayna gripped the wall in front of her. “Their horns can reach a span of six feet. I’m not getting anywhere near that.”

  Stetson threaded his fingers through Kendra’s.

  She stiffened then relaxed.

  Eager to escape their friends, he tugged on her hand. “Let’s move closer.”

  They reached the sidewalk, and she stopped. “Shouldn’t we give them some room?”

  “As long as we don’t sit on the curb, we’re fine. Look.” He pointed to the dusty commotion down the street. “Here they come.”

  Kendra stepped forward. “Where?”

  “Way up the road. You’ll be able to see when they’re closer.”

  The longhorns meandered along their designated path as they’d done hundreds of times. Two drovers rode alongside them.

  “Shouldn’t they be
here by now?”

  “They’re coming.”

  Kendra leaned forward to see around the crowd. “Oh, I see them. It’s a wonder they can even hold their heads up with those huge horns. But they’re just walking along.”

  “That’s what they do.”

  “But I thought they’d be running—like the Running of the Bulls.”

  Stetson clamped his mouth shut, but his laughter rolled out anyway. “I’m sorry.”

  She shot him a glare. “So I guess they don’t run.”

  “No.”

  “But a cattle drive would take forever if they just walk along like that. Especially back in the Chisholm Trail days.”

  “I imagine it did.”

  The longhorns finally came into view, still meandering along. The herd turned, right where they needed to with no encouragement from the drovers, and headed back to their pens.

  “You’ll probably laugh at me, but why didn’t they run them?”

  “I’m not laughing. But you did when you saw my work uniform, so I owed you one.”

  She shrugged and shot him a mischievous grin.

  “Longhorns can’t run very long, and running the meat off them would lose money.”

  “Makes sense, but I’m disappointed. I mean—I always thought the Running of the Bulls thing was cool, and I thought I’d at least get to see them run.”

  “So you like adventure, huh? I’ve got the perfect adventure for you.” He tugged her toward the street.

  “What about the others?”

  “This is our date, not theirs.” He waved to their friends.

  Something unreadable welled in her blue eyes. Fear? Nervousness? Doubt? That was it—doubt. Did she doubt him? Did she doubt there could be a future for them?

  ❧

  Kendra stood on the observation deck of the Cowtown Cattlepen Maze while Stetson—her date—went to buy tickets.

  That concept threatened to steal her breath away.

  Concentrate on something else.

  Rubber rats lurked on the rafters over a series of intricate tunnels and dead ends. Yellow signs proclaiming Are You Lost? and Nice to See You Again lined the walls of the human-size maze.

  “What do you think?” Stetson hollered.

  “Should be fun.” She descended the steps toward him.

  “It’s over 5,400 square feet and was built to resemble the cattle pens of the Old West.” He handed her a watermelon-colored card with the letters M-A-Z-E typed vertically. “There’s four punch machines in the maze. We have to find each one and punch beside each letter. Here’s our starting time, and when we find the exit, we stick the card in the clock for our finish time.”