Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1)

by Chaffin, Char

  Boy, was I wrong.

  Only when the man handed his cue stick to his friend and began walking their way did she realize she’d been staring, lost in thoughts of Caleb.

  Her stomach sank.

  Glancing back to Susan, she mumbled, “Oh shit.”

  Her friend chuckled. “Cute. Maybe he’ll invite his friend over.”

  Rosemary snorted, taking another long pull on her drink. “Not interested.”

  “C’mon, Rosemary. Have a little fun. It’ll do you good.”

  She shook her head. “Not tonight, Susie-Q.”

  Susan blew a raspberry. “You’re no fun.”

  The man reached them, and Rosemary, unwilling to appear rude, gave him a weak smile. Her pain in the ass friend wasn’t so hesitant. “Hi,” Susan said in a flirty voice, lifting her drink in a welcoming salute. “I’m Susan, and this is Rosemary.”

  “I’m Brad.” The smile he gave them was nice, but she still wasn’t interested. “Did you ladies want to join us for a drink?” He nodded his head toward his friend who hung out by the pool table, watching them with interest.

  “We’d love to,” Susan chimed, grinning broadly.

  “No.” Rosemary shook her head. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” She tried not to cringe at the lame excuse, but jutted her chin in defiance when Susan cast her an amused glance.

  Disappointment flashed over the man’s face, before he returned his attention to her best friend. “How about you, Susan? Ready to play?”

  The innuendo behind his words evident, her friend chuckled. “Sorry,” she said. “Raincheck?”

  Just then the front door opened and Dave walked in, glancing toward the dining room. “There he is now.” Rosemary hopped off the stool with her drink in her hand. “Susan, why don’t you go ahead and play a game of pool while I have a talk with Dave.”

  “You sure?” Susan studied her intently.

  She nodded. “I’m certain. We’ll be in the dining room. Should I order something for you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take a burger with the works.” She returned her attention to Brad. “One game.”

  Brad nodded, offering her his arm. “One game.” They turned and walked off together.

  Spotting her, Dave came over. “Hi, darlin’. Where’ve you been hiding?”

  Her cheeks heated. Dave knew damned well she’d spent the last week shacking up with Caleb. She drained her drink, before asking, “Have you had dinner?”

  “No.” He gave her an intense once-over. “Everything okay?”

  “No. Not really.”

  Dave took her elbow and led her to the dining room. After holding her chair out, he sat across from her. “So, tell me.”

  Rosemary stared into his compassionate eyes and once again called herself every kind of fool for falling in love with a wandering cowboy instead of Dave. “Caleb took off again.”

  His expression turned dark. “What happened? Last I heard you two seemed to be working things out.”

  After Adrianne walked over and took their orders, Rosemary played with the stem of her glass, then shoved it aside. “He was offered a job with the Rodeo Commission, and evidently took it, because when I stopped by the motel to talk with him about it he was gone.”

  There was no keeping the tears from her voice, though she refused to let a single one fall. Dave reached over and placed his hand on hers where they were busy shredding one of the napkins.

  “Did he tell you he was leaving?”

  “No. He just left.”

  “How do you know, Rosie? You should have a talk with him before jumping to conclusions. I ran into Caleb a few days back, and he seemed pretty damn happy to be in your life and spending time with his son. I don’t think he’d just throw that away.”

  “I tried, Dave. I went to the Bronco Inn, but he was gone. Not even a goodbye.” Emotion clogged her throat.

  “Do you love him?”

  Rosemary frowned. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not, because he left again. He left his son. How am I going to tell Carson his daddy is gone?”

  “Do you want my advice, darlin’?” Before she had a chance to answer Dave continued, “I think you need to find out why Caleb left. He might have a perfectly good explanation.” He sat back in his chair and picked up the drink Adrianne set before him. “It’s obvious to everyone you’re crazy about each other, so don’t let your anger and insecurities get in the way. That’s all I’m saying.”

  A flutter of hope sparked to life in her chest. Maybe she had jumped to conclusions. But still, she was hesitant to trust.

  “What am I supposed to do, Dave? Just wait around until Caleb decides to mosey back into town again? I don’t think so. I deserve better and so does Carson.”

  He gave her a steady look. “Then don’t.”

  Rosemary just stared at him for a long moment, as the words sank into her brain. Then don’t.

  Slowly, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket, swiped it open and punched in a number. “Mason, can you keep Carson an extra day or two?”

  She paused for a moment listening to her brother’s voice, then quietly stressed, “It’s important.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caleb stood and respectfully tipped his hat. “Thanks, Lenny. For everything.”

  After an enthusiastic handshake, his new boss slapped him on the back. “We’re glad to have you with us, son. You’re bringing a world of experience to the RC as well as a fresh approach.” Lenny shrugged into his suit coat and smoothed the careful comb-over that hid most of his bald spot.

  The man wasn’t fooling anyone with that hairstyle, and he probably knew it. Still, Lenny Folsom was a nice guy who’d bent over backward to assure Caleb had a future for him and his family.

  Even if that family seemed out of reach right now.

  “So.” Lenny kept pace as Caleb edged toward the wide doors leading outside of the State Rodeo Commission offices. “When do you want to start? Not tryin’ to rush you,” he hastily assured as Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Just need a general idea for my team. That’s all.” He jingled loose coins in his pocket, squinting up at Caleb in the afternoon sun. “That little ranch on the outskirts of Cheyenne is almost ready for you. Your gal and the boy—Carson, right?—well, they can move in anytime, and—”

  “I don’t know about that. I still need to talk to Rosemary.” Caleb was beginning to feel that rush Lenny had promised wasn’t coming from him.

  Surprise wreathed the older man’s face as he stared at Caleb. “You didn’t tell her? You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I were.” Caleb rubbed at his forehead, feeling the tension brewing under his fingers. “I’ll need to get back to you on that.” Shit, on a lot of things. He wasn’t about to admit he’d lost track of his woman. It was just a matter of location, because once he found her, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her run off again.

  “Well, if I were you, I’d let your lady know she’s got a right nice place to call home once you start hittin’ the road,” Lenny advised. “Hell, I’ll let the boys on the construction team know. They can slap on a fresh coat of paint, too. Whatever she wants.”

  “Let me actually talk to Rosemary first, okay? Then we can worry about paint.” With another fast handshake and a jaunty salute, Caleb bid Lenny goodbye and headed toward the huge parking lot. He’d promised himself to return Nash’s truck before four-thirty.

  An hour later Caleb swerved to avoid yet another pot-hole. A repaving crew had been working on this section of 211, but it was a mess in spots. The back road was still the fastest way to get to Dustin. He recalled how many times he ridden the bus on this damned road, scraping up enough money to ride to Cheyenne and catch the summer rodeo circuit. He’d watch his heroes ride, and plot for the day he could be shooting his own eight seconds on the backside of the meanest bull in six counties.

  And I did it, didn’t I? Rode those bulls, made that fast money. Spent it, too.

  For him it was never the horses, though he certainly
enjoyed riding. It was always the bulls. And he couldn’t regret a single competition during those crazy years. He didn’t even regret the orneriest bull of all, breaking his leg in two places; laying him off bull riding, most likely permanently . . . because it also brought Rosemary back into his life. Carson, too. He’d spend the rest of his days thanking God for the second chance he’d been given.

  When he bumped over that damned rut the county never seemed to bother fixing, Caleb knew he was eight miles from home. Reflexively he slowed to a crawl just as he caught a flash of chrome and color up ahead, sitting at an angle near the berm of the road. A familiar, dirt-streaked blue Civic.

  He eased to a stop and killed the engine, squinting into the afternoon sun as he took in the sight before him.

  Hot damn. God loves me after all.

  Quietly, Caleb exited the truck, grabbing his hat from the seat and dropping it on his head. Leaving the door wide open, he stepped easy over road gravel so as not to startle the figure leaning into the open hood.

  Shapely, long legs, covered in skintight, faded-out Levi’s, were tucked into a pair of beat-up Dingos. One boot toe, squared off and scuffed, tapped impatiently in time with the sound of a hammer striking metal. Tendrils of smoke wafted from the vicinity of what was surely a dry and thirsty radiator.

  He knew those red leather boots and those denim-clad legs; hell, he knew the heart-shaped ass attached to them. Rosemary Carmichael, love of his life, mother of his son.

  Caleb felt himself slowing in anticipation, a dozen smooth opening lines bouncing in his head, a million things he wanted to say to Rosie starting with, ‘I love you,’ and ending with, ‘Please never leave me.’

  Instead, he walked up to the stranded car, grinning at the banging hammer mixed with a string of cuss words, and calmly—inanely—said, “Hi. Something wrong with your car?”

  ***

  Cursing and pounding on the worthless piece-of-crap radiator, Rosemary never heard him approach until his low baritone voice flowed over her temper like a honey balm. Caleb Johnson, all six-feet-four of sex on a stick, sauntering over to her on those endless, muscled legs of his. He wore a pair of brown western-cut dress slacks, a white dress shirt with a “Hook ‘Em” bolo tie, and polished Tony Lamas on his feet. He reached for his hat, a snappy, tan felt Stetson, and took it off, holding it in both hands, turning the brim around and around as if nervous.

  Caleb, nervous? She’d never known the man to be anything but smooth and supremely cool. Confident. Bigger than life. Certainly not the hesitant man who stood before her with his heart in his eyes.

  His heart’s in his eyes. For me.

  The hammer slipped out of her fingers and hit the dusty ground. She couldn’t look away. Seconds eased into a minute or more as they stood two feet from each other and stared. Finally, Caleb’s lips parted on a tender, yearning, “Rosie . . .”

  “I was—I was coming to you.” Tears blurred her vision; she didn’t bother to hold them back. “I figured you must be in Cheyenne so I took the last of my checking account money and spent it on a full tank of gas. I was going to walk right up to you and tell you to come home.”

  While her mouth quivered over the words, Caleb had stepped closer and set his hat on the fender of her doornail-dead Honda. Now he used his thumbs to wipe her damp cheeks, his palms curving along her jaw. He bent in, the merest inch, and rasped, “Then what were you going to tell me?”

  “I—I—” Overcome, she turned her face into his hand and trembled.

  “Would it help if you knew what I wanted to tell you?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  A single tug brought her into his arms and up against his heart. With a sigh she settled there, one hand grasping his shirt and the other sliding over his shoulder to bury itself in his hair. Caleb pressed his mouth to her ear.

  “I wanted to tell you I found us a future together, Rosie. A job with good benefits and a chance to be together most of the year, living in Dustin if you want. Traveling the circuit in the summer with Carson.”

  He brought his lips to hers and touched them, so very gently. His voice lowered to an aching breath that feathered over her tongue. “We’d find a house with a yard. Maybe a dog. Maybe a little sissy or bro, too. And it all comes with a promise and a ring.”

  Dropping to one knee, Caleb held both her hands; she could feel the tremor in his fingers. “I don’t have the ring, just yet. But I got the promise and it’s so big and so true. Marry me, Rosemary Carmichael.” He swallowed visibly, hard enough to cause his Adam’s apple to shudder. “For the love of God and my sanity, Rosie. Please marry me.”

  How she managed to force anything out when her throat was so clogged with emotion, Rosemary never knew. But she choked out, “Yes, Caleb. Yes.”

  Three seconds later she fell into his arms, her senses filled with warm cotton and hot man, kneeling on the side of the road eight miles outside of Dustin, while cars zipped by and horns honked.

  Epilogue

  Rosemary gazed up at her new husband as they stepped outside the church where they’d exchanged their vows to love, honor, and cherish each other for the rest of their lives.

  Her heart overflowed with happiness. The road to this quaint little chapel may have been rocky, but their future soared bright.

  He stared back at her with so much love shining from his sexy green eyes, their son settled on his left hip. Caleb’s right arm wrapped securely around her waist as he held her close to his side.

  “Whaddaya say, Mrs. Johnson?” He grinned from ear to ear like a little boy who’d just been given his favorite treat. “Ready for that honeymoon?”

  Carson clapped his hands, wiggling with excitement. “Yeah! I’m ready, Daddy. I’m ready!”

  She smiled at her son, reaching out to ruffle his carrot top. “Mommy and Daddy will pick you up from Uncle Mason’s first thing in the morning, sweetheart, then it’s off to Disney World.”

  “Whoopee!” Carson yelled as they passed through the small crowd of friends and family lined up outside the church to blow soap bubbles at them. Spying his uncle, he exclaimed excitedly, “I’m going to Disney World.” Then, “Auntie Susie, I’m going to Disney World.”

  Grinning, Mason held out his hand for a high-five as Carson passed by. “Way to go, Lil’ Tuff.”

  Susan laughed. “I know, buddy. You’re going to have a great time.” She gave Rosemary a big hug, whispering in her ear, “Be happy, BFF. I’ve decided he’s good for you.” Pulling back, and putting on a fake scowl, she wagged her finger under Caleb’s nose. “I’m watching you, Caleb Johnson, and I know where you live.”

  Mason punched the arm Caleb had curved around her shoulder, and growled, “Ditto.”

  Rosemary wasn’t too sure her brother was joking, but Caleb just laughed it off.

  Suddenly, a smacking sound rang out sharply, and everyone glanced toward the noise. A young blond woman was stalking off, and Dave Jamison stood there with his hand cupping a reddened cheek, watching her. A slow smile grew on his face.

  Caleb stared. “Who’s that?”

  Rosemary laughed softly, wondering what the heck was going on. “That’s Mimi’s little sister, Dew.”

  Her new husband’s mouth dropped as he set Carson down, then he snapped it shut and shot her a look of amazement. “That’s Do-you-wanna?”

  She scowled and punched him in the other arm. “The name’s Dwana, and you know it. It’s because several idiot boys who’ll remain anonymous gave her so much grief in high school that she’s changed hers to Dew. So use it.”

  Stepping closer, he leaned down and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Sorry, baby.” Then easing away, he glanced down at her feet. “Let me see those boots.”

  “These old things?” Lifting the hem of her handkerchief-edged gown, she showed off her beat-up Dingos, their silver-etched red leather vivid against the creamy lace.

  His voice dropped lower, and he rumbled, “Damn, I love those things. You gonna wear them for me tonight?”
>
  She shot him the sexy look she knew he loved best.

  “Oh, yeah, cowboy,” she purred. “Just the boots.”

  If you enjoyed Rodeo King, stay tuned for Roping Her In, Book 2 of the Dustin Lovers Series.

  Here’s a preview:

  “Mimi,” Dew Landry called out, “if we’re gonna get to the wedding on time, you’d better haul ass.” She looked around for her tiny handbag, the blingy one she’d picked up special for the occasion. It’d been five years since she’d been back to Dustin, and she wanted to show everyone she wasn’t the awkward girl who only sparkled when she was roping.

  Her sister came running into the room, hopping on one foot as she shoved her pump onto the other. Her bodice was wildly crooked. “Sorry,” she said, laughing. “Frank really liked my dress.”

  Dew rolled her eyes. The way Mimi and Frank carried on, you’d think they were newlyweds instead of married for over a decade. “TMI, big sister. TMI.”

  A smile curved her lips as they made their way to Mimi’s car. She was happy her sister had found a good man. One of the few out there, in Dew’s opinion. Her luck hadn’t been as good, starting as far back as junior high when the boys began teasing her by pronouncing her name ‘Do-you-wanna’ instead of Dwana. After she’d graduated and joined the pro roping circuit, she’d shortened her name to Dew. She’d never answer to Dwana again.

  It took about a half hour to reach the chapel where Rosemary Carmichael was marrying Caleb Johnson, former Wyoming rodeo king. Dew hoped her old friend knew what she was doing, marrying the cowboy who’d once deserted her to become a bull-riding circuit star. But she figured everyone deserved a second chance.

  The ceremony was just getting underway as they slipped onto a bench in the back of the room. Dew grinned to see Carson, cute as a button in a white tux and white Stetson, holding his parents’ hands as they exchanged vows.

  She glanced around the room and stopped short, inhaling a quick breath when she spotted him. Dave Jamison, ex-star quarterback and her one big crush in high school, sat just a few seats in front of her.