"Do you have to go?"
"Yes, ma'am. I don't want to, but I'm gonna."
He took a few steps away, but she caught up with him and touched his arm. "Is this part of the punishment?"
"Yes'm."
She smacked him on the arm, none-too-gently. "You're mean, Rowdy Jackson."
Grinning, he continued into the living room and picked up his hat. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gretchen. Just ask around at the stables and someone will find me."
Pouting, she agreed. She caught up with him just as he got to the suite doors. "Kiss me again?"
He gave her another searing kiss, one she could take to bed with her for pleasant dreams.
"Good night, princess." With nothing more to say, he opened the door and walked out.
Gretchen touched her kiss-swollen lips and then turned and leaned back on the closed door. Rowdy was a force to be reckoned with. She wondered who would do the reckoning.
Chapter 4
Amy insisted on wearing her girlish, pink cowboy boots, jeans, and her favorite long-sleeved blue t-shirt with ruffles at the hem. There was a unicorn and rainbow on the chest done with glittery paint. She said she wanted to be extra-pretty when meeting Mr. Horse. Gretchen smiled all the way to the stables just after lunch.
Regret shadowed her good mood, however, as she thought about her intimate encounter with Rowdy the night before. She'd been too pushy with him about sex. He was sure to think less of her after she'd gotten so excited and then come on to him as she did. It was unlike her to flirt with, no less be intimate with, men. She just had too many responsibilities and had ever since leaving home, pregnant at seventeen.
Maybe her behavior was due to pent-up need. But there had been nobody who attracted her as much as Rowdy, in all the six years since leaving home. And, lately, since she now had money, which ought to give her some breathing room, she had to be so vigilant and every male was suspect. Bob had been her barrier and her protector, and he'd done a good job, maybe too good. But there was Amy to think about. She had to be protected, as much for her own personal safety as against anything happening to her mother, a scenario which could devastate the little girl.
Once at the arena, the four found the stables and pens and Bob asked for Rowdy. A young cowboy, barely old enough to shave, hurried off to find him. In the meantime, Gretchen looked around. There were pens of wild horses and bulls, and a wide selection of saddled horses in various locations tied to the white, scuffed up barriers. A bull snorted nearby and grabbed her attention. He was a big, black brute with dulled horns which nonetheless looked like they could do a lot of damage. She stared at him and he stared right back, and the meanness in his eyes gave her chills. It was a relief to turn her attention back to Amy when Amy shouted, "Rowdy!"
Rowdy approached, a smile lifting his handsome face. Amy ran to him and grabbed him around the knees. He was leading an attractive palomino mare and another cowboy was alongside.
"Hello, peanut."
"Rowdy! Is that my horse?"
"She's Clay's horse," he explained as she let go of him and took a step back. He turned slightly toward his friend and introduced the older, brawny, even beefy, man with haunted golden eyes, to everyone there. He tipped his hat at the three females and gave Bob a handshake. Then he hunkered down to Amy's level and addressed her. "Would you like to pet Serenity? That's my horse's name. She's a very nice horse and won't hurt you."
"Yes, please."
Gretchen had a moment of pleasure; her little girl had good manners.
"Okay. Let me get a stool for you to stand on." He moved away then came back with a small, four-legged wooden stool with a round seat. It was about eighteen inches tall, and very good for this purpose.
Rowdy lifted Amy up to stand on the stool while Clay moved the horse closer. Serenity put her head down and allowed the little girl to pet her nose.
"Ooo," Amy cooed. "Soft."
"Yeah, she's very soft," Clay agreed. "She's also very smart. She helps me do my job. We're best friends."
Amy spoke softly to Serenity for a moment. Then Rowdy suggested Amy might sit on the horse for a few minutes. Amy practically jumped out of her boots with excitement, then thought better of it as the horse snorted.
"She won't throw me on the ground, right?"
"No, she won't," Rowdy said.
Gretchen spoke from nearby. "Rowdy wouldn't suggest it if it wasn't safe."
"Okay," Amy said. Her smile got more confident. "Yes, I'd like to sit on Serenity, please."
"You're going to be sitting on a saddle. It's what the cowboys usually sit on when they ride their horses," Rowdy explained.
"You don't sit on a chair."
"A saddle, peanut. And no, when I'm in the rodeo, I don't sit on one. It's what makes my job here exciting."
He lifted her up and sat her in the broad saddle. She perched on it with her little legs on either side and Rowdy held her securely. The horse shifted a bit and Amy's eyes got wide. "Don't be scared," Clay suggested. "A horse is an animal, and animals don't usually stand very still, even when they're nice animals."
"Okay," Amy said, though her voice wasn't too confident.
Bob got closer as a pair of cowboys sauntered by. Gretchen looked over but saw nothing untoward, so she turned back. "If you want to," Gretchen suggested to Amy, "we can teach you to ride a horse so it can move around and you will tell it where to walk and when to turn."
"Will I chase cows like the cowboys in the rodeo?"
"Probably not," Melody told her. "But it would be fun."
"I want to be like those ladies who ride around the barrels really fast. Can I do that too?"
Gretchen wanted to make things realistic, and certainly a new rider wasn't going to be a barrel racer for quite a few years. But Amy could learn about horses, have her own pony, and learn to ride. It was something Gretchen's money could do, benefitting her daughter in a positive way. "It might take you a while to learn to ride. But I learned to ride a horse when I was five," she said. "I really loved my horse."
"I wanna do it, too," Amy decided.
"Okay. But now it's time to give Clay back his horse. He has work to do and Serenity will help him."
Although Amy looked disappointed to be removed from her high perch, she co-operated and then ran over to Melody who took her hand.
"Thank you, Clay," Gretchen said. "Serenity made a lasting impression on my daughter. You have a beautiful horse. What's your event?"
"Steer wrestling, ma'am," he responded.
"Best of luck tonight. And thank you again."
Rowdy gave Clay his thanks and shook his hand with a friendly grin.
Clay made his farewells and led Serenity off into the stables.
"Looks like we have a mini-cowgirl on our hands," Rowdy said.
Gretchen liked the sound of the ‘our’ in his sentence, but she also had a twinge of concern. What if things didn't work out with Rowdy? He shouldn't be the first in a parade of men who would come and go in Amy's life. Gretchen had to act wisely to protect her daughter.
"Do you need to get back to work? " she asked Rowdy, who nodded.
"I'll walk you back out to your limo. That ought to cause a stir like a mouse in the feed grain." His chuckle was infectious and Gretchen laughed.
"I don't want to get you into mischief."
"Don't you mind these cowpokes," Rowdy told her. "They're always lookin' for something to gossip about. They're like an old lady on the porch in the summer, watching the passersby so she can report back to her friends."
"Okay."
He reached for her hand and held it as they turned to make their way out of the stables. Amy hurried over and took Rowdy's other hand. The trio and the bodyguards walked slowly to the waiting limo, which looked like a butterfly among the moths, completely inappropriate.
Rowdy gave Gretchen a brief kiss on the lips as the driver opened the door for her.
"I wanna kiss, too!" Amy demanded.
Bending and taking Amy's hand, h
e pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Have a fun afternoon, peanut. Maybe I'll see you later."
They said their good-byes and Gretchen and her group rolled away in her out-of-place vehicle.
Rowdy called later in the day, just to make sure his little odd-ball family was going to attend the rodeo. When Gretchen said she wouldn't miss it, his heart leapt like a bronc. He suggested she and he attend an after party together. Then he remembered Bob. That man was a problem from moment one. They had things straightened out insofar as Gretchen and his personal relationship, but the big man's insistence on high security was so restrictive. Rowdy wondered how Gretchen withstood it over the year since she'd won the lottery. She seemed to take it with good grace, but she was something of a prisoner of her money.
Gretchen said she wanted to attend the party, so Rowdy took it as a yes and figured she'd fix it with Bob somehow.
He ate a light supper and a few hours later, the rodeo began. As he was waiting his turn, wrapping his right wrist in thick, stiff athletic tape, he visualized the ride in his head, preparing for his eight seconds of mayhem. Everyone said bareback riding was the most dangerous and grueling event at the rodeo, and, having started as a saddle bronc rider, then a bull rider for a year, Rowdy had to agree, among the rough stock events, bareback was the most physically challenging. He got battered around on top of those horses and only top physical conditioning kept him from being seriously injured. Traveling as much as he did on his rodeo circuit made it hard to find a gym, but he ran a few miles every day, including wind sprints, and worked out with weights he carried in a duffle bag from rodeo to rodeo. Just lugging the hand weights around was a workout all by itself! And, of course, he rode as many broncs as he could organize. Usually, the practice horses weren't the top-of-the-line livestock, because they saved the premier, rank horses for the rodeo itself, but he got enough ‘airtime’ to keep things working the way they were supposed to. Every event, however, was dangerous and he kept it in mind as he prepared.
He'd drawn the horse named Airfare, a Journey Pro Rodeo horse, described as rank and ornery. A good draw. Since the horse's behavior was fifty percent of his score, he always wanted the hardest horse to ride. The harder they were, the higher the points, and the more likely he was to win so long as he did his job well. He knew he was good at bareback riding, and all the money he'd won that year was a testament to his talent, but every ride was different. He'd never been on Airfare before, but there were several cowboys there who had, so he asked some questions and got the honest answers he sought. The horse was known for short jumps away from the chute, then big leaps to the left, head high, hooves off the ground quite a lot. This knowledge would help Rowdy in the arena.
Soon it was his turn. He worked the rigging on the horse with help from the rough stock provider's men, and the horse started to try to buck in the chute, nearly slamming Rowdy into the front of the enclosure. It was a small space and as dangerous, if not more dangerous, than any arena antics the horse would throw at him. He got off the horse while the men got the horse under control and then Rowdy took his seat on the beast's back again. He wrapped his hand tight in the rig and lay back on the animal's back and nodded his head.
With the suddenness of a shotgun blast, they were off. Rowdy was careful not to miss the horse out by missing the target where his feet had to begin. It had to start with the first time the horse jumped. He got it! But the horse didn't do everything as expected, making turns to the right as well as left, tossing Rowdy from side to side while Rowdy spurred with his dull rowels and tried to stay on. His head and upper back bashed against the horse's back, slamming him violently as the animal did his darnedest to rid himself of the pest on his back.
These bucking horses were bred to be ornery, only the ones with the most tendency to buck were chosen from the herd, and only the most consistent of those allowed to participate in arena events.
Airfare behaved beautifully and when Rowdy's eight seconds were up, he knew he'd done well. He worked his hand out of the rigging, all the while the horse was still bucking, and he grabbed onto the pick-up man who was supposed to help him come off the horse without incident. But the pick-up man didn't have a good grip and Rowdy fell to the ground with a chest crushing whomp. He felt something in his left arm snap and feared the worst, but he got up off the ground and smiled at the crowd who was cheering loudly. He saw Gretchen and Amy in the stands where he'd gotten their tickets and he waved his hat at them. They were jumping and shouting for all they were worth.
His arm was killing him, so he cradled it gently as he strode off. When his score came in, it was disappointing. Only eighty points. Not enough to move past Bear this time. A man named Rusty pulled up into third for Day 9, and Zack came in fourth. All four of them had won money for their places, and Rowdy was still ahead in the purse winnings for the rodeo, but he had to win the final go-round the next night, Day 10, or Bear could take the world championship and leave Rowdy a disappointed runner-up.
He made his way to the medical team and showed them his arm. It was his left, so if it was broken, he could still rodeo, but it would be painful and awkward. The doctor sent him to have an x-ray, and Rowdy went to the associated Urgent Care clinic and had the x-ray done. It was conclusive: broken in two places. Purple and ugly though it was, he couldn't sport a cast and still do his job, so he opted for a light, plastic splint and hoped it would be good enough. The doctor at the clinic warned him to be careful with it because such an injury could be crippling if not tended properly. Rowdy promised to do his best, while thinking about how he would manage the next and final day of events. He needed to win.
Arm wrapped and splinted, he got back to the arena just as the crowd was clearing from the front of the arena entrance. He'd arrived late and kept Gretchen waiting. Amy and Melody weren't there, but Bob stood stalwartly by.
"Rowdy!" Gretchen called as he got out of the cab he'd taken from the clinic. "Rowdy, I saw you were hurt. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," he said, though he felt far from it. His arm hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and the Tylenol they'd given him had done nothing to dull it. She hugged him and he gave her a right-handed hug back.
"You're not okay," she said, worry in her voice. I can tell by the way you're holding your arm. What happened?"
"Clumsy is all. Slipped out of the pick-up man's grip and landed wrong. Broke my arm."
"Broken! Oh no! Let me see."
"Let's get off the street, princess," he said, not wanting to show her just yet he'd refused a cast.
"Yes, okay."
Bob came over, frowning. "We'll take the limo unless you want me to drive your truck."
"Have you ever driven a big truck?"
"Son, I've driven just about everything but a tractor and a jet airplane, including a tank. I can drive your truck."
"Okay, drive my truck. I'll need it to get back to the Wynn later."
Nodding, Bob held his hand out for the keys. Rowdy turned them over and the trio made their way to the gravel parking lot and into Rowdy's truck. It felt weird to be sitting on the passenger side as they drove off the lot, but Rowdy was confident in Bob's ability to keep them safe. Bob seemed like a very capable guy. They set the GPS for the nightclub where the party was going on and started on their way.
"Where are Amy and Melody?" Rowdy asked as they drove along.
"When it appeared you were going to be very late, we thought it best to send Amy back with Melody. It's past her bedtime and waiting was making her cranky." Gretchen's voice was soft, soothing. Rowdy felt bad for disappointing Amy and missing his chance to say goodnight. He'd have to make it up to her tomorrow. But such a plan didn't address tonight.
"You know," he said. "Maybe you should just drop me at my hotel and we'll skip the after-party."
"It hurts that badly?"
How much should he admit? "Not too bad, really. I just thought I might not be the best company."
"We'll do whatever you like. If you want to be more private than a par
ty, we also have the option of going to my suite."
He did like the idea of alone time with her. He enjoyed her company and wanted to spend more time together getting to know her. Who knew what would happen when the rodeo ended tomorrow? She'd told him she was based in Reno, but that knowledge didn't address whether she wanted to see him again after the rodeo. Knowing just how far to invest himself and his emotions was important at this stage.
"If you don't mind missing the party," he suggested, "then your suite would be great."
"I don't mind at all. How about you, Bob?" she teased.
Bob hmphed.
"Okay. We'll go to the suite and relax. Maybe watch a movie or something."
"Or something…" Bob muttered.
Rowdy was pretty sure he hadn't heard the spanking the night before, so he must still be thinking Gretchen was involved physically.
They rode in silence the short distance back to the hotel. By the time they got there, some of the Tylenol was taking the edge off his pain, and, though he wasn't able to use his left arm yet, there seemed to be hope maybe he could get through the finals the next day.
Once in the suite, Gretchen ordered them some sandwiches and beer and they sat together, his right arm around her shoulders, watching a romantic comedy together. He was not a romantic comedy buff, but it didn't matter since Gretchen was snuggled up next to him.
After the movie was over, he yawned. "Beg pardon."
"You must be exhausted. Why don't you stay here tonight?"
"I start pretty early in the AM, princess. I don't want to cramp your routine."
"Clearly, you have never lived in a house with a five-year-old. We start out early, too."
As he thought about it, he chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you would. Well, I could crash on the couch."
"Um, you could sleep in my bed with me."
"No, thank you."
Gretchen looked crestfallen.
"I'm not rejecting your offer," he said. "But we need to talk about it a bit more." He yawned again. Damn but he was tired. "Beg pardon."
Rowdy Page 5