How could she tell him? How could she keep denying him the right? Watching him walk away and thinking that fate had dealt him a sorry hand was becoming too hard for her to bear. She’d made up her mind that she couldn’t do it again. Tonight, after this ride, she’d tell him the truth. She’d let Fate decide whether he chose Bone Buster tomorrow.
Slim strode over and handed her the slip of paper he’d drawn. “I’m not gonna ride him, Gus. You can call me No-Grit if you want to, but I ain’t gonna put my friend through the possibility of seeing me kilt or watching me make the ride he wants. I can’t do that to him. It ain’t in me.”
“You’re a true friend, Slim.” She took the paper, wadded it up and let it fall on the ground. “No one will call you anything less.”
“You’re one too, so let him ride.”
Augusta evaded his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean?”
“Sure you do, Gus.” Slim took off his hat and ran his thumb around the inner lining, silently informing her that he was smarter than he let others know. “Sometimes you gotta do the right thing so your man can find the courage to do the right thing for you.”
He knew. Slim had somehow guessed or seen that she’d rigged Bone Buster’s name to be chosen when Dally’s name wasn’t in contention. “I love him, Slim. I just couldn’t watch him die.”
“Love him enough to let him live then,” Slim said softly. “Until he rides that bull, he’s doing neither. Not living or dying. Just waiting. And, Gus, waiting’s no kind of life for anybody.” Slim tapped her bulbous nose. “Now, I’m going to take my own advice and find me a pretty little gal who’s tired of waiting on some hunka bootstrap like me to come calling. I suggest you git over there and let that cowboy know you’re tired of waiting too. I’m heading out to shuffle these boots on some sawdust.”
Slim’s advice set well with what she’d already decided. Augusta could only hope that the dance would be moved inside if the rain turned into a downpour. That way her parents and child would be busy somewhere other than near Dally. The threat of rain would never stop him or any other bull rider, so her secret could remain safe until after the outlaw event. That would give her time to see him through the ride and get him alone to talk.
Already wet and filthy from the day’s routines, Augusta decided to ask some of the other clowns to stay and help with the event. As she and two others took up positions inside the wooden maze, the announcement was made that Slim Doogan had forfeited his ride.
A few jeers echoed over the crowd who’d braved the gusts of wind that now pelted them with stinging raindrops. Thunder bellowed a warning to all that the rides best begin or the clouds churning overhead might belch some black-biled wind and wreck havoc on their plans.
One rider, two, took their turns. The grounds melted into small muddy pools. Augusta and her crew added a sense of comic relief to the tension of the bulls blowing hot steam at their riders.
Dally was up next. He tightened the flat braided rope that he pulled around Hell Fire’s girth, then tied himself to the back of the animal by putting his hand through the loop and pulling it tight. Wrapping the tail of the rope around his hand, Dally wove it through his fingers to make sure if he did get bucked off, he could easily let go of the bellrope.
The chute gate opened into a field of mud and muck. Dally turned out his toes and hung on as Hell Fire lunged out of the chute like a twister running amok. Hell Fire’s shoulders hurdled one direction, his haunches kicking higher than his head. Dally read the spin just before the bull tossed his massive horns to the left, trying to throw his lanky rider.
“Ride ’im, Dally,” Augusta yelled with all the others, too caught up in the excitement of the moment. She’d forgotten how thrilling it was to watch such a match of muscle and horn against a man’s greater will. She also forgot that she was in the stomping line and left little room for escape. Hell Fire was coming strong and straight for her.
Realizing her mistake, Augusta darted to the left, taking a flying leap at the top of the chute but knowing she wasn’t going to make it.
A gun went off. A clown appeared on either side of her. She heard her name yelled. Then something struck the back of her leg, sending her crashing over the wooden fence.
Augusta landed in the mud, face-first. It took her a moment to realize the wind had been knocked out of her. She gasped, sucking in damp air and spitting out bits of foul-tasting stuff she prayed was straw. Something hot and slimy oozed down the neck of her costume, but she was afraid to turn. Afraid that Hell Fire stood just behind her, blowing hot fury and ready to gouge her with horns.
A body hurdled next to her, grabbing her, lifting her. “Gus, are you okay? Did he hurt you? Talk to me, Redhead.”
Dally’s hands were all over her, checking, testing, making sure she could stand. The clowns rushed over to help her to her feet.
“I-I’m all right,” she finally told them, spinning around to make sure they were all out of danger. If the fence had been any less sturdy, Hell Fire would have locked horns with a few of her ribs. She took a step away and started to raise her hands to wave at the crowd to assure them she was unhurt, but her right leg gave way. “Ouch.”
Dally pushed the clowns aside and swept her up into his arms. “Where are your folks?” he asked, before she could utter a single word of protest.
She couldn’t let him take her to her parents. Maddy might be there and she wanted time to tell him about her.
“No, it will just frighten them,” she said. “It’s just the back of my leg. I’ll be okay. No need to worry them. Take me to Clown Alley.”
“No.” He headed for somewhere closer, a line of tents set up near the springs. “You almost got freight-trained by that bull. I need to see if he hooked you and anything’s broken.”
“Well, folks, it looks like Dally Angelo made his ride and won the girl for the dance,” one of the onlookers said. “Some cowboys just get all the luck.”
“Some luck.” Augusta held tightly to Dally’s shoulders, realizing how difficult it was for him to make much progress in the mud. “Sorry I’m such dead weight.”
Dally halted in his tracks and stared down at her, for the first time allowing her to see the worry that etched his brow. “Choose better words when I’m carrying you, Gus, okay? Promise me you won’t ever say such a thing again. That bull could’ve killed you.”
And then it struck her and she couldn’t resist saying it. No matter how much she loved him, no matter how much she’d made up her mind to let him have a true draw tomorrow. “It’s not easy watching someone you love get hurt, is it?”
Chapter 8
She felt him stiffen. His boot slipped. Dally tried to correct the imbalance but the momentum forced her hands to unlock from around his neck. He couldn’t regain his stride and catch her at the same time. They both went crashing to the mud, he to his knees, she on her backside.
“Just wonderful,” she complained, once she caught her breath and tried to stand. Her leg hurt like sin, but she’d never admit it to the laughing hyena attempting to help her to her feet. At first she thought he had reacted to what she’d said about watching someone you love getting hurt and that it had made him lose his footing. Now it looked as if he had simply just tripped. “Quit laughing. It’s going to take days to get this out of my costume, much less my hair.”
Dally laughed harder, infuriating her when he started to walk away and leave her.
“I said, stop your—”
He turned and bent down to get something. All of a sudden, Dally spun around. A mudball sailed through the air and hit Augusta’s right cheek. She opened her mouth to protest, then abruptly closed it, dodging the next wad of mud coming her way. Dally had already bent to grab a third handful when she decided to remind him that two could play the same game.
“So that’s it, is it?” she countered and grabbed a handful. “You forget who you’re slinging at, Angelo. I could always outwit, outrun, outthrow you any day of the week. So take your best shot.”
The mud fight began in earnest. Chuckles and giggles riffled the space that divided them as each projection of wet, Texas dirt hurdled through the air to make contact. The rain persisted, only adding to their muddy mess. Augusta laughed hardest when Dally tried to close the space that divided them and his boots kept slipping and sending him crashing to the ground.
“Better be careful there, partner,” she teased. “You won’t sit old Bone Buster tomorrow if you keep slipping on your saddle. Want to give up now while you’re ahead?”
“I haven’t lost a mud fight with you yet, Redhead,” he reminded, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “And the dirtier you get, the more I get to wash off. Remember?”
She did remember. All too well. Some of their best lovemaking happened after bathing the mud off each other. “No fair, Cowboy. Trying to distract your opponent with sweet talk. My hair’s red, remember? I got a temper that doesn’t cool down so easy.”
“And I know just the way to cool that temper.” Dally nearly stumbled again as he reached her.
“Better practice up on some of that swagger, Angelo,” she laughed, helping him get to his feet despite her intention to resist his playfulness, “or you’ll just be kicking up dirt.”
“You’re the one who puts the swagger there, Gus. If I’ve lost it, it’s because I thought I’d lost you.”
Time seemed to stand still between them, the rain washing away the past heartaches that made her want to ignore how close he stood, how utterly desperately she wanted just to lean into him and give herself to the swell of emotions that had been banked for far too long. The dark mass of his hair hung to his collar, his shoulders drenched from the drizzle of rain. But Dally had never looked as handsome to Augusta as he did now. He appeared as vulnerable as she felt. His eyes said he missed her as much as she had missed him. Desire ignited through Augusta, warding off the chill of all that had kept them apart.
“I missed you, Redhead.”
The huskiness in his voice rippled along the surface of her skin in pebbled gooseflesh, its white-hot seduction surging through her bloodstream. She swallowed and licked her lips, her heart gripping at the sincerity in his tone.
Their gazes collided. “I’m sorry,” their apologies echoed in unison.
“You first,” Dally whispered, his lips pressing a kiss against her forehead, her eyes, against her neck.
A shiver of longing raced through Augusta and it was all she could do to remain standing. But she had to tell him. Had to find somewhere to begin to explain what she’d done and why she’d done it.
Augusta fidgeted, her body tensing as she realized that her confession might very well put an end to all this. And she wanted so deeply for this closeness to last. Just a moment longer. A lifetime if it could.
The prairie around them looked freshly washed, and she was filled with hope that the old had been cleansed away and somehow the moment was full of new promises. Her heart began to sing, her blood seemed to hum with some long dormant but well-remembered rhythm.
Dally smiled at the expression softening the contours of Augusta’s face, aware of the exact moment she opened her heart to him again. “Let’s go see about your leg, love, before I lose something more than a mud fight. You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to lose any sense I’ve got left. Otherwise, I’m going to throw you over my shoulders and carry you off to my tent and not come out for days.”
She simply nodded and let him lead her by the hand, past the Double D camp to the privacy of his tent.
They spoke little while he pulled up her trouser leg and checked where she pointed that it hurt. Deciding that Hell Fire’s head must have caught the backside of her leg but didn’t break skin, Dally told her that it looked like it would be a nasty bruise but nothing more. She was lucky. No broken bones or gores.
“Would you like a drink?” Dally offered, retrieving a bottle of whiskey he had stashed away to use for medicinal purposes. He offered her the amber liquid. “It will take an edge of the pain away.”
“I didn’t think you drank before you rode.” She was surprised to discover Dally kept a bottle of liquor among his things.
“I mostly use it to cauterize wounds or sterilize my knife.” Dally opened the bottle, took a swig, then offered it to her. “But I’m not against enjoying it when it’ll ease some pain.”
She looked up, wondering what pain had instigated the swig he just took. She knew, but she didn’t want to admit to being the cause of it. Augusta accepted the bottle and took a drink, tasting the essence of Dally on the bottle’s rim. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. “Hmm,” a moan escaped her as she gave in to the memory.
“Good?”
“Delicious,” she admitted. Let him think what he would. She knew what really drove her hunger.
“Hope I’m not disturbing anything,” a familiar voice announced from outside the tent. “Augusta, could I talk to you a minute?”
Startled and embarrassed, she hadn’t even heard anyone approach. She hoped he hadn’t heard her moaning and misunderstood. “Of course,” she finally answered and handed Dally back the bottle.
She tried to smooth down her hair but the wet muddy strands did nothing but practically stand straight up as if they were railroad spikes. Oh yeah, right. I look quite fetching, I’ll bet. “Why didn’t you tell me I looked a sight?” she shot Dally a woeful glare.
“You look damned beautiful to me.”
She swatted away Dally’s hand as it reached out to pull her toward him just as Joey entered the tent. The clown stopped in his tracks and stared at both of them.
“What happened to you two? Did you get plowed through the mud?” When the flap swung back and left them in virtual darkness, he added, “You gonna light a lantern so you can see?”
“We weren’t haven’t any trouble seeing a thing.” Dally’s tone held a hint of unfriendliness toward the intruder.
The two men obviously didn’t care much for the other, though she knew them both to be good people. Why was it men always felt they had to challenge one another? Why couldn’t they believe a woman could love one man and simply be good friends with another? If she and Dally were ever going to be truly happy together, that was one thing she would have to get straight with him. She had men friends. Just no male lovers other than Dally. Served him right for being the jealous sort.
“We were just checking to see if Hell Fire did much damage to my leg,” she told her friend. “It’s only a bad bruise and won’t be any more trouble than that time the donkey kicked me. In fact, come to think of it, it’s the same leg. So, if you came to see if I’m okay, I am. No need to concern yourself any further. We have things well in hand.”
Joey hesitated, not taking the hint to leave. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you back to town?”
“If she needs walking, I’ll walk her back.”
“Then you’re not going to join your parents for the dance?”
When Joey stressed the word parents, Augusta really knew he was asking about when she would return to Maddy.
“Tell them I’ll check in later. To enjoy their evening and go ahead and go on to bed. Don’t wait up for me. Like Dally said, he’ll see me home.”
“All right then,” Joey relented. “If you think that’s best, but could I talk to you a moment…alone?”
“I’ll be at the spring, washing off.” Dally moved past the clown and shoved open the tent flap. “Looks like the rain has let up.”
“What’s so important that you couldn’t say it in front of him?” Augusta asked, not holding her tone to a whisper after Dally exited. She would keep nothing from him any longer. She’d promised herself that tonight would change things and now was as good a time as any.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Augusta?” Joey stood like a silent sentinel ready to guard her from all comers. “He’s what you want?”
“He’s always been who I want, Joey. That’s never been any question about that.” Augusta knew before the words cam
e out of her mouth that she’d finally determined the reason she was willing now to meet Dally more than halfway. “I just finally realized that I’ve got to love him enough to let him have his ride. That all this time I’ve been chastising him for thinking it would bring Flint back, when all along I’ve been guilty of believing that not letting him ride would somehow save him and give me more time with him. All it’s done was pull us apart. I’d rather have tonight in his arms, Joey, than years more of waiting for and wondering about what could have been.”
“What if he doesn’t understand about Maddy?”
“Then he’s not the man I think he is.”
“I only want what’s best for you, Augusta.”
“Dally Angelo is what’s best for me, Joey. He always has been.”
“As long as you love him, then I’ll back off and not say another word.”
It was then that Augusta realized that Joey had cared for her more than just as a friend. “I’m sorry, Joey, I didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. I’ve always known the truth. I just figured that cowboy of yours would somehow mess it up. Guess he’s got more luck than he gives himself credit for.”
Joey disappeared into the night, leaving Augusta with a sense of sadness that she’d caused him pain. She left the tent and crossed the distance to the springs and stood directly behind Dally. He stiffened as she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his broad back. His shirt was damp and cold from the rain, the skin beneath it drawing her fingers to its warmth. She could feel his every breath, heard the exact moment the steady beat of his heart sped up to match the racing of her own.
“I love you, Dally.”
“I’ve never believed any different. But what about this thing with Bone Buster?”
“I’ll watch you ride him if that’s what you want.”
Dally braced his feet as if warding off an attack. An untruth. “I need to understand why this sudden change of heart, Gus.”
She gently brushed his arms, urging him to face her, to slip them around her and pull her closer. She leaned back into the curve of his embrace, letting her gaze take in the blue of his eyes, the heaven waiting at his lips. “Because I discovered there’s something we all fear beyond our control and that’s death. Bone Buster represents that to you. There’s nothing we can do to conquer it, Dally. Riding him any time will never make you any stronger a man than you already are.”
Give Me A Texas Outlaw Bundle with Give Me A Cowboy Page 48