Julie smiled greetings as she entered through the ornately etched glass doors and came face-to-face with her dearest friend.
“Hello, there,” Hannah said brightly. “What brings you into town? I expected you to show up for the rodeo but not before.”
“I needed somebody to talk to,” Julie said quietly. “Have you got a minute?”
“Judging by the look on your face, this will take longer than a minute,” the young mother said. “It’s almost time for my afternoon break. Let me go tell the others what I’m doing and we can step outside.”
On tenterhooks, Julie fidgeted while her friend ducked into one of the offices that had previously belonged to bank officials. Fortunately, the mayor was not in town today and wouldn’t get curious about her visit—unless the town grapevine beat her back to the ranch.
Stepping back outside with Hannah, Julie paused. “Let me buy you ice cream or a cup of coffee at the café?”
“Ice cream sounds good.” Hannah fell into step beside her. “So what’s going on? Did you have a fight with your favorite cowboy? I heard all about you taking him to church with you last night.”
“That figures.” Julie pulled a face and rolled her eyes. “So what did the gossip say?”
Hannah giggled softly. “Plenty. If looks could kill, the glare your father gave Ryan would have planted him six feet under. Everybody says you looked positively radiant in spite of it.”
“More likely I was just really nervous,” she countered. “I never dreamed he’d agree to go with me—or that Dad would show so much animosity in public.”
“Is he still on the warpath? Is that what brought you to town today?”
“No. It’s Ryan. He hasn’t called me.”
“And you don’t like being ignored?”
“Something like that.” They had reached the door to the small ice-cream parlor. Julie pushed through and spoke to the blonde teenager standing behind the glass shielding the tubs of ice cream. “Hi, Lilibeth. I’m buying. Give Hannah whatever she wants.”
“You have to join me,” Hannah insisted. “I’m not going to get fat all by myself.”
“You’ll never be fat.” Julie wasn’t hungry but decided on a scoop of cherry vanilla in a cup so she’d have something to occupy her hands while they chatted.
Once they were seated at a small glass-topped cabaret table, Julie held up her cup and spoon. “See this? It’s Ryan’s favorite flavor, too.”
“So?”
“So it’s just one of a hundred things we have in common.”
“And that’s bad because…?”
Julie heaved a noisy sigh. “I don’t know. It just seems really strange that we’re so in tune. Know what I mean?”
“Not really.” Hannah put down her spoon and leaned her elbows on the table to concentrate on her friend. “Maybe you’d better spell it out for me.”
“That’s the trouble,” Julie said with a shake of her head and another deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going on or how to feel about it. Sometimes I think God brought Ryan and me together so I could help him, and other times all I see is stars and romance.”
“And that frightens you.”
Julie’s eyes widened. “Yes!”
“Perfectly understandable. I remember being gaga over David when we were dating. He was all I could think about, all that mattered to me.”
“I’m not quite that bad—yet,” Julie admitted. “But I’m certainly not my usual sensible self. I keep wondering what I should do, how I should act around him. Stuff like that never bothered me before.”
“That’s because other guys weren’t important to you.” Hannah took a spoonful and paused until she’d savored it. “If you’re asking for my advice, I’d say you need to step back and slow down.”
“But—Ryan’s only going to be in Jasper Gulch for a little while longer. After the rodeo’s over he’s bound to go back on the road.”
“Let him.”
That was not what Julie had expected to hear. “You didn’t let David go like that.”
There was a glint of extra moisture in Hannah’s eyes before she lowered her gaze to her cup of ice cream and nodded. “I know. I panicked and talked myself into getting married in a hurry when I probably should have waited.”
“You were madly in love, right?”
“Oh, yes. That’s not what I’m trying to say. It’s just that sometimes, when I look at the twins and think about raising them all alone, I wonder if it wasn’t a mistake to rush into getting married before David shipped out. If I’d known then what I know now…”
Julie reached across the tiny table and patted the back of her friend’s hand. “But you didn’t know. And if you hadn’t taken a chance, you wouldn’t have such beautiful reminders of your husband.”
“I know. I do love those two babies. But I wanted to curl up and die when I was giving birth and already knew they’d never see their daddy or get to know the wonderful man he was. An event that should have been filled with joy was bittersweet instead.” She raised her misty gaze to Julie. “What I’m trying to say is, don’t be in a hurry to commit to Ryan—or to any man. If God brought you together, He’ll finish what He started. If not, then it wasn’t meant to be.”
Nodding soberly, Julie said, “Okay, I guess. It’s going to be hard to back away, though. In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve discovered how much we have in common. Letting him go away without telling him how I feel seems unfair.”
When Hannah looked at her and asked, “Unfair to which one of you?” Julie was momentarily rendered speechless. Her friend was absolutely right.
“I get it,” Julie finally replied. “If I fall all over myself convincing Ryan we belong together, it could turn out to be much harder for him.”
“Exactly. If you truly do care about his feelings, you need to let him make the decision to stay or go without undue influence. And if he’s the man you think he is and he cares for you, he’ll make the right decision in the long run. If not, you haven’t really lost a thing except some pipe dreams.”
“Suppose he walks away and never looks back?” The mere words battered Julie’s tender heart, although she knew they were sensible.
“Then you’ll have your answer,” Hannah said softly. “If he leaves you without confessing love, you’ll be sure your romance is one-sided.”
“I never said I loved him,” Julie said softly.
Hannah met her misty gaze. “You didn’t have to. I’ve known you too long to fail to notice the signs.”
* * *
Ryan figured he’d checked his cell for missed calls at least once an hour for the past forty-eight. In view of the fact that Julie had his number and had not returned his call, he figured she must have had enough of his company. That conclusion didn’t sit well, but he was forced to accept it. And, since the next weekend of competition was about to begin, he assumed she’d be in the stands. At least that was something to look forward to.
His bareback bronc was new to him. She was a bony, rangy animal the size of a small bucking bull and refused to stand still in the chute while he tried to tighten his rigging.
“Get ready to pull ’er tight when I poke her in the flank,” the stock contractor said. “She likes to suck air and blow herself up so your cinch’ll slip.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Ryan had no choice but to concentrate on the wily horse if he hoped to stay on her back for the full eight seconds. Although he hadn’t forgotten to scan the grandstands for Julie, he needed to take care of business right now.
The bronc’s mane was roached, cut short and bristly, except for a long forelock, and there were leftover signs of a winter coat on her cheeks and chin, making her look as though she needed a shave. If Ryan hadn’t been preparing to ride, he might have found the stray longer hairs on t
he bay amusing.
Stepping across the narrow chute, Ryan placed one boot on either side and straddled the animal before easing onto her back. He could smell the horse’s sweat, see her wild eyes rolling back as she tried to turn and look at him. Crossties on a halter kept her head from swiveling much, and that seemed to agitate the bay even more.
It didn’t help that some idiot holding a large camera and wearing headphones kept leaning in over the front of the last chute and spooking the bronc. Television. The equipment for recording his previous rides did enable him to critique them, but right now it was mostly distracting, not to mention frightening, to the already fractious horse.
He took one last quick peek at the grandstand, wedged his rosined glove into the rigging and settled onto the animal’s twitching hide.
She gathered herself beneath him. Ready. Anxious. Snorting and tossing her head as much as she could while restrained.
Ryan nodded.
The wranglers let go of the ropes.
The gate latch clicked, setting everything in motion.
The horse reared, poised for her first leap. She exploded out of the chute, nearly knocking the gate man down as she rushed past.
Ryan gritted his teeth, glad he was using a football player’s mouth guard, particularly when she landed flatfooted and jarred him all the way to the marrow of his bones.
He raked her withers in rhythm with her leaps. The smooth rowels on his spurs didn’t hurt her, they merely allowed him to keep his balance and put on a good show, as well as earn more points for his ride.
This was the moment when he always wondered when or if the horn was ever going to blow. Eight seconds became an incalculable span of time.
His fingers were working loose in spite of being wedged into his rigging. Ryan tried to tighten his grip. One more jump. Just one more jump….
Suddenly, he was airborne. And the hard dirt floor of the arena was a long way down.
He heard the horn sounding as he was flying through the air. It stopped before he actually landed. Had he made it? Was the ride going to count?
The side of his head slammed into the ground. That was the last thing he remembered.
* * *
Julie was on her feet. So were most of the other spectators. Cheers turned to screams and shouts. Medics who had been standing by rushed into the arena. Flashing lights on a waiting ambulance began to rotate.
Breath held, Julie had watched Ryan hit the dirt in a cloud of dust and just lie there. So still. So deathly quiet. Mere moments passed until he was surrounded by rescuers and hidden from her view.
Success of the ride was nothing compared to his well-being. She strained to see if he was moving. It was impossible to tell. In no frame of mind to linger or wait until the crowd cleared the arena floor, Julie bounded down the stairs between the banks of bench seats, hitting the ground running.
Riders blocked her path to the alley leading to the gates. “Excuse me? Please?”
“You can’t go in there,” one of the burly steer wrestlers said.
“But I have to.”
His extended arms kept her back. “Let the pros do their jobs. That’s what they’re here for.”
“I know, but…” Spotting Carrie Landry among the medical team, she bounced on her toes and waved. “Carrie!”
The other woman waved a gloved hand and made an okay sign in reply. Julie was instantly relieved, so much so that she felt weak in the knees.
A few more anxious seconds passed before she saw Ryan’s mussed hair above the heads of the others. “Thank God,” she whispered to herself. More prayer and thanksgiving was in order, but at the moment she was barely able to think, let alone offer a proper prayer.
Ryan was moving now, acting as if he might be sore from the hard landing but mobile. And when she saw his face, he was grinning from ear to ear.
She was already heading for him when he reached the back of the chutes. “Hey!” She waved an arm. “Great ride!”
He raised a hand in greeting, bracing himself as if he thought her speedy approach meant she was planning to throw herself at him. The idea did occur to her. Fortunately, she was able to put the brakes on her enthusiasm and her feet at the same time.
“I wondered if you’d be here,” he said, clearly glad to see her.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Julie replied. “You ride really well. I’m not quite as sure about your get-offs, though.”
“The ground always manages to be there when I land,” he quipped. “I’ve never missed it.”
“Good to know. How about waiting for the pickup men the next time? It’s a lot easier on the spectators when you don’t fly through the air like a wounded duck.”
His rich laugh sent tingles all the way to her fingertips.
“Believe me, that dismount was not in my plans.” Ryan gestured toward the rear where his rigging was waiting, and she fell into step beside him. “I sort of pictured myself as a flying superhero, not a duck,” he said. “You really know how to give compliments.”
“Hey, you called me Lambchop, remember?”
“Touché. So did Faith come with you today?”
“Not this time. She’s rehearsing for a concert.” Julie couldn’t help being so elated she was almost giddy. “I can’t imagine anybody putting violin music ahead of watching a live rodeo.”
“Not unless you call it a fiddle and play in a country-and-western band,” he countered. “That’s altogether different.”
“She can play that way when she wants to,” Julie said. “She just prefers classical music.”
“To each his own.” Ryan picked up his bareback rigging, thanked the wrangler who’d handed it to him then turned back to her. “Walk with me while I stow this and get my saddle and halter?”
“Sure. I didn’t notice what your score was this time, did you?”
“High eighties, I imagine. I can usually guess about where I’ll place, given a clean mark-out and a decent horse. It’s the final totals that matter the most anyway.”
“I’m glad to see you’re okay.” She had to hurry to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.
“I’d have to hit a lot harder than that to stay down,” Ryan told her, sobering. “We can never tell, though. Sometimes even a clean get-off can mean a twisted ankle or getting kicked. Take that horse I rode last weekend, for instance. She was ready to run over anything in the arena, particularly me.”
Without thinking, Julie slipped her hand through the bend in his elbow and grasped his arm. “I remember.” What she wanted to do was continue to express her concern and urge him to shun danger. She didn’t. She knew better than to interfere in his life choices or let herself sound as if she didn’t trust his judgment.
I don’t trust it, she told herself with a shy smile and an averted gaze. Yes, she found rodeo thrilling. Exciting. Pure joy and a rush of adrenaline. Yet she also sensed that she was developing an aversion to the situations in which a rider deliberately put himself in jeopardy. Every time Ryan entered the arena and risked life and limb, the sensation grew until she was beginning to wish she’d stayed home.
Her grip tightened and she could feel the strength of his arm, the flexing of his muscles. This man was as capable and professional as anybody she’d ever met, yet there was no way he could guarantee that his career would not cripple or kill him. No one could. There were inherent dangers even for the ropers and steer wrestlers, not to mention the occasional judge or gate man who got run over by a rampaging bull.
They reached Ryan’s truck. After exchanging his bareback rigging for the equipment he’d need for saddle-bronc riding, he caught Julie’s eye. “A penny for your thoughts?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Possibly. Probably. I think I’ve laughed more since you and I met than I have in the ten yea
rs prior.
“Okay.” She huffed and began to shake her head. “I was just picturing how much safer being a rodeo cowboy would be if everybody substituted sheep for horses and cattle.”
When he started to chortle as though he was choking, she patted him on the back. “See? I warned you.”
“Yes…you did,” Ryan said, coughing. “I’d have been fine if I hadn’t pictured it.”
Julie was laughing now, too. “I know. And instead of cowboy I’d have to call you sheepboy. That just seems really wrong, doesn’t it?”
Shock replaced his grin for a split second before he started laughing so hard he sagged against the truck and swiped at his eyes.
Finally, he recovered self-control enough to say, “You are one of a kind, Lambchop. Do you know that?”
“It may have come up in conversation a time or two,” Julie replied. “Mostly when I was a kid and my older brothers and sister tried to get me into trouble.”
“They didn’t often succeed, did they?”
“Uh-uh. I was too little and too innocent looking. Mom and Dad usually ended up scolding the others for picking on me. That worked until… Well, I guess it kind of still does.”
Ryan sobered slightly. “You really are fortunate to have such close siblings.”
“I know. I promised to meet them later this evening so I’d better go.”
Julie sent an empathetic smile his way, hoping and praying he would understand when she added, “They’re all a special blessing from God.”
She paused for effect before adding, “So are you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Final saddle-bronc scores were close. Two men were tied for second and there were only fractions of points separating them from the leader—Ryan Travers.
His former rodeo coach had always said that the rider who wasn’t a little bit afraid was in trouble. Ryan had never truly understood that viewpoint until today. Not only was he feeling uneasy about his upcoming bull rides, he thought he’d figured out why, and he didn’t like his conclusions one bit.
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