He was also a man who could help make her dream of raising world class bucking bulls a reality. The problem would be, if Wild Card did make it to the National Finals Rodeo, reporters would zero in on the female stock contractor and the story behind the bull, and that alone could mean pulling up stakes and disappearing into the night, but as Mario Moretti already warned, if it came to that, next time she'd be leaving her animals behind. Permanently.
***
Early the following afternoon, while Jeremy jacked up the porch, Billy intended to keep her distance and busy herself somewhere else as a means of making it clear to her father that there was nothing going on between them, but that plan failed when Jeremy came up with a half dozen reasons for her to stay close at hand—to check the level and let him know when the floor was horizontal; to hand him the short sections of posts he'd cut so he could insert them between the concrete pier blocks he'd put beneath the porch and the floor joists; to pass him the drill with the screw bit and screws so he could attach the metal brackets that held the posts to the porch joists.
While Jeremy was lying on his back, halfway under a porch that was a couple of feet off the ground, he said to her in a muffled voice, "Since you want to close this place in I've put extra blocks and posts along the perimeter for support."
Billy looked at the long, denim-clad legs and booted feet sticking out from under the porch and replied, "Maybe I will take you up on your offer to do that, but I can pick up the windows myself if you tell me where to go."
"Better still, I'll take you there and we can stop in at Pete's Pub for dinner," Jeremy said.
That caught Billy up short because it smacked of a date, and she wasn't ready for that. Still, she wasn't completely opposed either. "Why Pete's?" she asked, knowing it was both a cowboy and a buckle bunny hangout.
"Because you turned me down the last time I asked you to go, and this time I thought you might go with me," Jeremy replied. "Besides, they have good burgers and microbrewery beer."
"When you asked me before it had little to do with burgers and beer," Billy pointed out.
Jeremy scooted from under the porch, and after lifting himself up, he eyed Billy with amusement, and said, "I was actually trying to prove a point back then."
"What point?" Billy asked, standing back some as Jeremy dusted himself off.
Jeremy grinned the kind of playful grin that brought flutters to Billy's stomach, and replied, "That I was a hot cowboy who could charm the pants off the prettiest buckle bunny at the buckout."
"You probably did," Billy said, remembering the woman who'd been waiting by Jeremy's truck that evening, though she wouldn't have exactly considered the woman pretty. But she was put together to catch a man's eye, with a bare midriff and a shirt that plunged low in front.
"You didn't go to the pub with me," Jeremy said.
"No, but you left with a woman who looked ready for whatever you had in mind."
"How would you know that?" Jeremy asked. "You walked away from me."
"I saw you drive off and the woman was sitting next to you in your truck," Billy said. "You're a fast worker."
Jeremy laughed. "She liked my buckle, not me. But I managed to keep it so she was pretty pissed when she realized she wouldn't be leaving with it the next morning."
"Did you lead her to believe she would?" Billy asked.
"No, she led me to believe it wasn't my buckle she was after. It all evens out."
"Is that something you do routinely?" Billy asked. "Lure women into your camper with the promise of a buckle in exchange for a hot night, then renege on the buckle?"
"Is this a Catch 22?" Jeremy asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Will I be in trouble, however I answer your question?"
"You're not in trouble either way," Billy said. "We're not in a relationship so it doesn't matter."
"Could we be?" Jeremy asked.
Billy silently stared at him while pondering the question. She didn't know him well enough to answer truthfully, but each time he showed up to fix things she found herself eagerly hoping he'd keep coming around, whether it was to make repairs or buck bulls or drive somewhere and hold her hand…
Think hard before you bring a man into your life unless he's willing to pull up stakes in the middle of the night and disappear with you…
"Okay, forget I asked," Jeremy said. "How about I'll give you my buckle and you'll go to Pete's with me, no strings attached?"
"Why would you give me your buckle for no reason?" Billy asked.
"Beats me," Jeremy replied. "I'm doing a lot of things right now that I don't understand. And to answer your question about luring women into my camper, if the women make themselves available, I'm willing. If I were in a relationship with you it would stop."
"How do you know, if you've never been in a relationship?" Billy asked.
Jeremy looked at her steadily, as he said, "You don't have to jump in front of a freight train to know you'd get wiped out if you did. Some things you know inherently, and I know I'm not an adulterer, whether I'd be in a relationship or married."
"But you have been loose with women," Billy pointed out, "so do you know for a fact that you're not a father?"
"I'm not that loose," Jeremy said, "but I'm not a monk either. After rodeos when everyone's pumped up I'm game for a hot evening. As for being a father, buckle bunnies stay on the pill since they're not into motherhood, and just to make sure there aren't any slip ups, I come prepared."
Billy had no argument. No guy she'd known during her adult years lived like a monk, but now Jeremy was clearly gravitating toward a one-on-one relationship with her and she was uncertain what to do about it. Follow her heart, or turn him away.
"So, what about picking up windows and going to Pete's?" Jeremy asked. "Are we on?"
Billy glanced around at the porch, which was now square with the house, and said, "It would be nice to have it closed in before winter, so I suppose we could go."
"Okay then, give me a few minutes to finish up here and we'll head for town. There's still time to pick up the windows and buy the materials before the stores close."
***
Two hours later, with several sheets of siding, a stack of 2x4s, and four used windows in the bed of Jeremy's truck, they pulled into Pete's Pub. Billy decided against sitting next to Jeremy on the way there, not only because she didn't want her father to see her leaving that way, but because she was again uncertain about encouraging Jeremy. There was a lot at stake.
When they got out of the truck, however, Jeremy came around and took her hand as they walked up to the front entrance of the pub. They dropped hands to step inside, but once sitting in a booth, Jeremy reached across to where Billy's hands were folded together and resting on the table, and disentangling one hand from the other, took her hand in his. She didn't pull away because not only did Jeremy have an appealing smile that she wanted to enjoy, but she liked the feel of his hand clasping hers and his thumb idly stroking her knuckles.
After the waitress took their order and left, Jeremy gave her hand a little squeeze, and said, "You're not fighting me so this must be okay with you."
"It is for now," Billy replied.
"Why just for now? Are we in a timed countdown or something?"
"No, but we talked about not rushing into things, and sitting here holding hands is telling everyone around that we're a couple, which we aren't at this point, at least I don't think we are."
"We're something," Jeremy said, "and since you're not fighting me, maybe we'll be able to figure it out. I'm game to let things take a natural course, even though I've been running from something like this since puberty."
"Just don't get the idea that we'll be a couple by Pendleton, and figure you can share your camper with me because that won't happen," Billy said.
"Don't worry. I'll stay by my word," Jeremy replied. "But if I draw Wild Card and complete the ride I'll be pretty pumped up."
"Which means you'll want to find a buckle bunny a
nd you won't have a place to take her," Billy replied.
"Wrong," Jeremy said. "I'll be pumped up all right, but I can't think of a single woman I'd want to spend time with except you."
"Why me?" Billy asked. "I haven't given you any encouragement. I'm always covered with dust when you come over to fix things, and we buck bulls, and you leave, and that sums it up."
"Does it sum it up?" Jeremy asked, holding her gaze. "There's nothing more?"
Billy regarded him steadily, knowing it didn't sum it up at all. Something was definitely happening between them. She could feel it, and it was strong. She also trusted Jeremy to not string her along. He was not lacking for female companionship in his bed if that's what he was after. There were any number of women hanging out in the pub at the moment, eyeing him, like they were trying to figure out why he was holding hands with a woman who looked like she'd been riding the range half her life, instead of hanging out with them and taking what they were offering. "If you're asking if I think about you after you leave my place, maybe some."
"A couple of minutes? A half hour? Off and on during the day?" Jeremy asked.
While Billy was deliberating whether to tell Jeremy that he pretty much dominated her mind most of the day and into the night, knowing it was a bad idea being so open with him, Jeremy looked beyond her and the expression on his face darkened, and the muscles bunched in his jaws, like he was clenching his teeth.
Billy turned around to see what had caught his attention and saw Mario Moretti sitting alone in a booth, sipping a beer and staring at them. Catching her eye, he raised a finger in acknowledgement, then took another sip of beer, all the while his eyes remained on her.
CHAPTER 8
When Billy pulled her hand away from Jeremy's and turned back, with a grim look on her face, Jeremy said, "Okay, I'm not going to pump you with a whole bunch of questions except one. Is that guy threatening you in any way?"
Billy shook her head. "I told you he was interested in buying part interest in Wild Card."
Jeremy wasn't sure he believed it, but he withheld the urge to fire a string of questions at her, knowing it would shut communications down between them. "What's his name?" he asked.
"Mario Moretti," Billy replied.
Jeremy made a mental note of the name so he could check it out and see what he could find out about the guy. "What's his business?" he asked, figuring Billy could feed him more bullshit if she wanted. He was beginning to think she did a lot of that, but he still wasn't convinced she was doing it for reasons other than self-preservation, which was the only motive he could come up with for her twisting the truth such as claiming her animals had no brands when Wild Card had one and it showed that she was legal owner.
"I'm not sure what his business is," Billy replied. "He contacted me about Wild Card, claiming a breeder friend of his mentioned that he was a bull worth watching."
"You haven't put Wild Card in enough rodeos for anyone to make that determination," Jeremy said, "and so far he's only bucked in rodeos in Harney County. How could information about him get out so quickly?" He realized he was sounding like an investigator grilling a suspect, and he resolved to tone it down some.
"I really can't answer that," Billy replied, "but that's what the man told me and I have no reason not to believe him. He hasn't come up with a figure on what he'd pay though, or the terms for a partnership, but he said he'd get back with me later."
"That's it?" Jeremy said.
"Basically, yes," Billy replied.
Jeremy eyed her dubiously. She wasn't a stupid woman, and if what she said was true, she was about to partner up with a man who looked like a thug capable of breaking kneecaps and whatever else he needed to break in order to get what he wanted. It was hard to imagine that she hadn't come to the same conclusion about the man. "Don't you think you'd better find out something about him before going into business with him?" he asked
"Don't worry," Billy replied. "Before I do any business I'll check him out."
Glancing beyond Billy again, Jeremy saw that Moretti wasn't looking their way, so he had a chance to study him. He had a hard cold look. His hair was closely cropped, like hair would be a week or two after a military buzz cut, his sunglasses were sitting on the table, with his hand on one of the temples, like he'd either just taken them off or was ready to put them on if he wanted to hide behind them, and his eyes were scanning the pub in a studied way, like he owned the place and was checking over the clientele to decide if someone needed to be bounced. "How do you plan to check him out?" he asked. "You don't even know what he does. He could be dealing in selling false identification or stolen vehicles."
"Okay, I admit he looks a little menacing," Billy said, "but when he was talking to me he gave no indication that he was anything but what he held himself out to be—an investor wanting to buy into a bucking bull. He was very polite and courteous the whole time."
"Sure, that's rule number one with the mob," Jeremy pointed out. "Be a gentleman until the deal's cinched then break kneecaps if the person tries to back out."
"You've been watching too many crime dramas," Billy said."
"Maybe." Jeremy glanced beyond Billy again and found Moretti looking directly at him. The expression on his face was even harder than before. He was tempted to hold the man's gaze, just for the challenge of finding out who would back down first, but that would be tantamount to staring down Diesel. Something that wasn't conducive to remaining intact.
The silent, male-dominance test ended when the waitress arrived with their food. After setting in front of them baskets with hamburgers mounded high with fries, a mug of beer in front of Jeremy, and an ice tea in front of Billy, along with plastic bottles of various sauces, the waitress left. But when Jeremy bundled the man-sized hamburger into his hands and went to take a bite, he again glanced beyond Billy and saw that Moretti was gone.
Immediately, Jeremy looked out the window facing the parking lot and saw Moretti paused standing behind his truck, staring at the license plate as if memorizing it, but a moment later he walked on and got into the same black SUV and drove off.
Two things hit Jeremy as he watched the SUV pull onto the highway. First, Moretti knew which truck belonged to him, which meant he'd either noticed it at Billy's place the day he came, or he'd followed them to the pub and managed to slip into the booth unnoticed. And second, the man intended to check him out…
"Why are you staring out the window?" Billy asked.
"Your investor," Jeremy replied. "He stopped behind my truck and looked at my license plate like he was memorizing it. I think he followed us here and he's checking me out."
Billy looked toward the window. "There's no logical reason for him to do that. He was probably looking at something else about your truck. Maybe your trailer hitch."
"Possibly," Jeremy said, but he was all but certain that the man had made a mental note of his license plate number. The average citizen inquiring about a license number would be given no information about the owner of a vehicle, which left two classifications of people who could get information: law enforcement, and criminals with connections. Which raised the question: why would a man he'd never met before want information on him?
***
On the drive back to Billy's place, Jeremy was quiet and introspective for several miles, but not detached. He took Billy's hand as they left the pub, and he wanted her to sit beside him in the truck, so she scooted to the middle. But after a few miles, he said, "I'm concerned about that man. I care about you and I don't want anything to happen to you."
Billy started to argue that she couldn't possibly mean enough to him in less than two weeks for it to really matter, but in that same amount of time she was feeling that way about him. It was strange and baffling that feelings could grow so strong so quickly, but they had, and now Jeremy was a part of her life that she wasn't ready to give up.
Jeremy was correct in one sense; Mario Moretti would be checking him out, and she knew she'd be hearing from him so he could
lay out the terms for allowing Jeremy to remain in her life. In time, she'd either have to tell Jeremy everything, or watch him walk away, because he wasn't a man who'd live in a vacuum forever. He'd demand answers to questions she knew he had, but wasn't asking, maybe because he did care about her and didn't want to face the truth of what those answers could be. The ostrich with his head in the sand. But for the moment, she didn't want him to dwell on Mario Moretti.
"How about this," she started in. "If Mario Moretti comes back I'll get as much information as I can from him and check him out with the Better Business Bureau, and on the internet, and even pay for one of those online background reports that check for criminal records."
"That would be a start," Jeremy said, "but not enough. Mobsters set up legitimate businesses as fronts, and if Moretti is connected, that's the information he'd give you."
Not wanting Jeremy to get off on a tangent about mobsters, which was a little too close to home, Billy rested her hand on his knee and said, "Let's not worry about it right now. After seeing my place he'll probably figure it would be a bad investment and never come back. In the meantime, maybe you could help me buck Wild Card one more time before the rodeo."
"That's fine with me," Jeremy said, "but if I draw him in Pendleton and he tosses me, you'll be pumped up because I didn't make the ride, but I'll be down in the dumps and in need of some female understanding." He looked askance at her, and smiled.
"What did you have in mind, cowboy?" Billy asked, relieved to find him joking again.
"Not what you think," Jeremy said, "but we'll play it by ear."
As they pulled into the long gravel drive leading to her place, Billy unhooked her seatbelt and slid over to the passenger side, while explaining, "I don't want Bill jumping to conclusions."
Jeremy said nothing, but instead of pulling up to the house, he drove around the bull pens and stopped in front of the barn.
"Why are you stopping here?" Billy asked.
"Because I want to show you something inside the barn," Jeremy replied. He got out of the truck, and Billy did the same.
Bucking The Odds (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 9) Page 9