The Cowboy's Homecoming

by Brenda Minton

  “I think the only way to deal with this mess is to throw it all in the trash.” He shuffled through cabinets and pulled out a box of trash bags.

  Beth couldn’t agree more.

  “You know, I don’t really need help. This is more than you expected and I really can do it alone.”

  Beth wrapped another photograph and placed it in the box. She walked into the tiny kitchen and pictured him there, a boy trying to take care of a mom and a little sister. As a teenager, even from the time he was eleven or twelve, he was always working odd jobs around town. Vera had put him to work washing dishes. Buck had hired him to clean stalls in exchange for riding lessons. Until Beth had been caught making eyes at him, and then he’d been sent packing.

  She smiled, remembering him in that barn, faded jeans, worn-out boots and a threadbare T-shirt. She hadn’t seen any of that. She’d seen a smile that set butterflies loose in her stomach and eyes that always looked deep into hers, as if he really cared what she had to say.

  Even then he’d been different. He’d been two people—the tough kid and the sweet guy. Now he was the man who made her forget fear, forget all of those years thinking she wasn’t worth anything.

  And he was the man most likely to hurt her.

  “I don’t mind helping. I can even wash the dishes.”

  “No, these are going in the trash.” He had already filled one garbage bag.

  “What about the bedrooms?”

  “There are two. Elise’s room is cleaned out. Mom probably sold what she could, if there was anything to sell.”

  “And your mom’s room?”

  “More stuff to throw away. I went to the store the other day and bought new clothes for her to wear. The stuff in there isn’t worth taking to her or giving away.”

  “So pack it all in garbage bags unless we find something worth keeping?”

  He stopped stuffing trash into the bag. “There won’t be anything worth keeping.”

  Okay, she knew when to let it go. She grabbed a trash bag and headed for the back of the trailer. The floor had weak spots that sagged and the paneled walls were dingy and stained by years of dust and nicotine. The bedroom at the end of the hall was a little bigger than the first, but not enough to count. A double mattress on a frame was pushed against one wall, the sheets a jumbled mess, an old quilt thrown over the whole mess. The closet was full of old housedresses, worn polyester pants and shirts.

  The dresser held more of the same. The drawers didn’t pull out straight and the top of the dresser was covered with books, papers and old dust collectors that had obviously done their “dust collecting” for years. She hated to throw away the figurines, thinking that at one time they had meant something to Janie Hightree.

  As adamant as Jeremy was that it should all be thrown away, she wondered if Elise would feel the same way. These were her mother’s few possessions. Beth grabbed an old shirt and dusted a few of the figurines. One was porcelain and dated. Had Janie kept it for a reason?

  She placed it in a box and as she dusted, she added several more to the collection. Ten minutes later she was shoving clothes into a trash bag when booted footsteps came down the hall. She glanced toward the door as Jeremy walked into the room. He walked over to the box and picked up one of the figurines.

  “What’s this?”

  Beth shoved the last of the clothes into the bag and pulled it closed.

  “I don’t know, I guess I just thought that Elise might feel differently. She might want some of these. Or perhaps you could put them in your mom’s room.”

  Jeremy exhaled a sigh and put the figurine back in the box. He shook his head. “I don’t really want that and it won’t mean anything to Elise.”

  “Okay.” She knew when to let it go. Sometimes.

  Jeremy turned out to be the one who didn’t let it go. He leaned against the dresser, his gaze traveling around the dingy, tiny room.

  “Hard to believe this was her life.” He shook his head and then looked up. “It could have been my life, or Elise’s life. Somehow we escaped.”

  The moment stretched between them, silence hanging over the room. Beth stepped close. She put a hand on his cheek, felt the raspy five-o’clock stubble, and then his lips moved to brush across her palm. His hands moved to her hips.

  Beth closed her eyes as his lips touched hers, sweet and gentle. She sighed into a kiss that moved her to new places, stronger places. He whispered her name at the end of the kiss and shook his head lightly.

  “I’m not sure what we’re doing here.” He rested his cheek against hers and she wanted him to hold her close for a long time.

  “I don’t know either, but does it have to be wrong?”

  And then she was cold and lonely because he moved to the doorway. How did she tell him that he changed things? He shifted her heart from broken and lonely to hopeful.

  He made her feel safe.

  How did she tell him something that important when he didn’t know what they were doing here? She took that as her cue to leave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Saturday night at the rodeo. That’s what Jeremy needed after the week he’d had. He’d packed up his mom’s trailer at the beginning of the week, gone to a planning and zoning meeting a couple of days later. He’d managed to steer clear of Beth because he needed time to get his head on straight.

  He unlatched the back of his trailer and backed his horse out. The big gray stepped onto firm ground and lifted his head, ears alert as he took in the surroundings. The animal was so excited he was almost to the point of trembling.

  The horse had needed this as much as Jeremy. They both loved the smell, the sounds and the action of the rodeo. He ran a hand down the light gray of the animal’s neck and then led the horse to the side of the trailer to tie him while Jeremy got the saddle and bridle out of the tack room of the trailer.

  “Hey, bro, how’s it going?” Travis walked up, long-limbed and all energy. His dark-framed glasses didn’t manage to give him a serious expression, not with the big grin on his face.

  “Going good, Travis. What about you? You bullfighting tonight?”

  “Nah, no bulls tonight. It’s a ranch rodeo. What are you going to do?”

  “I didn’t know it was a ranch event.” Teams of four or five guys doing events that were similar to work done on the ranch. Sorting calves, loading and simulated branding.

  He hadn’t really talked to Wyatt since a few guys started planning the rodeo. It was meant to be a way to raise funds for some of the folks in Dawson who were still struggling to get back to normal after the tornado. People had to be reminded that even though they were back to everyday life, quite a few of their neighbors were still in limbo. Several were living in campers. A few had moved to apartments in Grove. A couple of families were still at the church.

  But the rodeo required a team and he didn’t have one. He shoved his saddle back in the tack section of his trailer. So much for letting loose and burning energy tonight.

  “You can take my spot on the Cooper Clan team,” Travis said.

  “No, that’s okay.” Jeremy brushed a hand down his horse’s back. Travis got a little closer and eyed the gray gelding.

  “Nice horse.”

  “Yeah, he’s been real good for me.”

  Travis nodded. “Yeah, I think you should ride with Jackson, Reese and Dad. I’d give anything for a night off.”

  Travis glanced toward a trailer where a girl in dark jeans and a tank top was saddling a pretty bay mare.

  “I bet you’d like a night off.” Jeremy laughed at the younger man. But he got it. He’d also been searching for a face since he pulled into the rodeo grounds fifteen minutes earlier. He’d seen the Bradshaw trailer parked at the end of the row. So far he hadn’t seen Beth. It was a ranch rodeo, but they’d still have barrels.

  And then Jackson was strolling toward them. Jeremy shook his head. It was really about time to head for Tulsa.

  “You don’t have a team, do you?” Jackson Cooper spok
e as he reached down to buckle his bright orange chaps. Yeah, that took some self-confidence. His shirt was orange, too. Kind of a peachy orange.

  “No, I didn’t realize it was ranch night.” Okay, enough explaining. He needed to load his horse and leave.

  Leave, as in straight back to Tulsa.

  The lights flashed on around the arena. Jeremy untied his horse and Jackson was still standing there in his way.

  “Where you going?” Jackson looked puzzled enough.

  “Home. I’m not planning on running barrels and I’m not on a ranch team.”

  “I told him he could take my place on the Cooper Clan Team.” Travis grinned big.

  Jackson shrugged. “Works for me. Travis can’t sort calves for nothing.”

  Because Travis couldn’t stay in one place long enough to sort calves. It was easy. There were ten calves in one section and the team of riders had to sort the calves in order, bringing one calf at a time across the line to the other side of the arena. If a calf slipped over the line out of order, the team was done.

  Travis liked constant motion and sitting on a horse long enough to keep calves from crossing a line probably wouldn’t be his thing.

  “If you take my place, they might really win.” Travis jerked the number off his back and handed it to Jeremy. “Have at it, bro.”

  “Right.” Jeremy looked at the number and he felt like he’d been picked by the cool guys to play on their ball team.

  “Better get that horse saddled.” Jackson slapped him on the back and walked away. “Glad you’re one of us.”

  Jeremy tied his horse and reached for the bridle. And then he saw Beth heading his way, a country girl in faded jeans, a T-shirt and dark pink roper boots. He couldn’t picture her in California, in a city. She belonged in Dawson.

  He thought about that for a long moment and refused to think the same about himself.

  “You riding?” She sat on the wheel well of the trailer and watched him saddle Pete, the horse.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m riding with the Coopers.”

  “That’s great.”

  He glanced her way before reaching under his horse to pull the girth strap tight. The horse stomped as the strap tightened under his belly.

  “Yeah, I know, Pete.” He lowered the stirrup back into place and then ducked under the horse’s neck so that he was on the same side as Beth. “You riding tonight?”

  “I’m trying that roan Dad bought.” She pulled off her hat and smoothed her hair. “I guess it’s quiet at your place since there are only a couple of families left in the church.”

  “Yeah, it’s quiet.” What else could he say?

  “I should go take care of my horse.” She stood up. Next to him she was tiny. He could imagine holding her close, lifting her in his arms. He couldn’t imagine anyone striking her, ever.

  Every time he looked at her this way, he wanted to run a finger over that scar on her face. He wanted to ask her if it still hurt, the deep-down-inside pain of the past.

  She was healing.

  He didn’t want to hurt her all over again. He wasn’t thinking about the church, he was thinking about him and that look in her eyes that said she wanted something more, something that lasted.

  “I’m going to loosen Pete up a little and then find out what I’m supposed to do. I’ve watched ranch rodeo a few times but I’m as green as they get.”

  “You’ve been team roping a lot lately.” She made the comment as she moved a few steps away from him.

  “Yeah, with Dane Scott.” Dane had a degree in engineering. The two of them were partners in the custom bike business. Dane didn’t look like an engineer or a computer genius. He looked like a biker, the kind of guy that scared people when they met him in the dark.

  He was the same guy who warned Jeremy that God wouldn’t look too kindly on his plan to tear down Back Street. Jeremy figured he had Dane’s prayers to thank for everything that had happened since he got to Dawson

  “Well, good luck tonight.” The look she gave him, all innocence and sweetness, was a lot like the look she’d given him years ago. It teased and tempted. It left him staring after her like his brains had been scrambled.

  She fast-walked back to the Bradshaw trailer. It held four horses, tack and living quarters. The Bradshaws went big wherever they went.

  He watched as she untied the dusky roan and mounted. He watched as she nudged the horse from a walk to a trot and then an easy lope away from the crowd.

  “You going to admire the scenery or ride?” Jackson Cooper rode up on a big black gelding. The horse tossed his head and backed up, nervous energy already causing perspiration to soak his dark coat.

  “Yeah, I’m riding. But don’t forget that I’ve knocked that grin off your face before.”

  “And got a black eye for your trouble.”

  Good point.

  Beth kept the gelding in control, holding the reins tight as the big animal trotted along the back of the rodeo grounds, bobbing his head up and down, wanting to break into a run. She eased him into a walk and turned him toward the trailer where Jason was tying his horse and talking to their dad and Lance. The other members of their team were standing at a nearby trailer.

  As she rode up the driveway she thought about all the times in her life that this was normal. This was where she’d grown up and where she belonged. But Chance had convinced her that they could see the ocean, live a dream life and escape the country. Escaping the country had been what he wanted and she’d followed.

  This would always be home. A dark, humid night with millions of stars sparkling in the sky, arena lights, hamburgers on a grill and the citizens of Dawson in the bleachers of the tiny rodeo arena that was Dawson’s main form of entertainment—this was her life.

  The horse beneath her jogged a little and pulled at the reins. She couldn’t give him his head. He’d get to run soon enough. But he was raring to go. She loved the energy. After years of not riding, not barrel racing, she was glad to be back.

  “Beth.” Jenna Cameron rode up on a palomino mare. “You riding tonight?”

  “I am.” The two had been friends in school. They were closer now. They both suffered from mild post-traumatic stress disorder. Beth from years of abuse and being under Chance’s control. Jenna had been injured in Iraq. She’d lost her leg from the knee down in a roadside bomb attack.

  They had shared stories about fear, captivity, and being whole again. Beth smiled at her friend, who was one of the strongest women she knew.

  “You know I’m going to beat you, right?” Jenna laughed, her smile bright. She had a lot to be happy about. She had Adam MacKenzie for a husband, twin boys and a baby girl.

  Beth would have those things someday. She was starting to dream again. To hope.

  “I’m willing to wager a steak dinner that you don’t.” Beth pulled the roan to a stop and Jenna stopped next to her. The palomino, creamy yellow in the bright lights, pawed at the ground.

  “I’ll see your steak dinner and raise you a cheese-cake.”

  “Great, now I’m too hungry to run barrels.”

  “That was my plan.”

  The announcer called for the invocation. The two women turned their horses toward the arena. Team Cooper rode past. Big men, big horses and lots of cowboy ego. Jeremy was with them, riding with his family. He nodded in her direction and she smiled.

  “Interesting,” Jenna murmured and then bowed her head as the prayer was said.

  Beth waited until amen. “Nothing interesting, just a lot of imagination and speculation.”

  “Right.” Jenna laughed. “Beth, how long have we been friends? I think you loved Jeremy even when you were twelve and he was teasing you in this very arena.”

  “That wasn’t love, that was aggravation.” But she couldn’t help looking at him as Team Cooper was called and the men on horseback rode into the arena, discussing their strategy. At the far end of the arena a line had been drawn with flour. The calves to be sorted were on the other side of tha
t line.

  “Let’s go see how they do.” Jenna led the way. The two rode near the arena and watched. Jeremy went into the herd of calves, found number five and cut him from the herd. The calf ran across the line and Jeremy went back for calf six. The other riders kept the herd from crossing the line.

  People were cheering. Jenna stood in her stirrups to get a better view. And Beth realized she was holding her breath. He was a Cooper. Her heart picked up a few beats and she moved her horse closer.

  A loud bang exploded in her ear. Beth’s horse jumped forward. She grabbed at the reins, getting control as the animal started a series of bucks that jarred her teeth, her head, her neck. She heard Jenna yell for her to hang on.

  That wasn’t optional. It was hang on or land on the ground.

  As the horse jerked forward, taking a few running leaps away from the arena, she heard her dad yell something about firecrackers.

  The horse finally calmed down. He stopped, trembling, breathing hard. She stayed in the saddle, her own breath coming hard and fast as her heart slowly returned to a normal rhythm. She turned, and the horse took jerky steps, nervous, ears twitching.

  “What happened?” Jeremy rode out of the arena straight toward her.

  “Someone threw a firecracker,” Jenna volunteered, her face a little pale.

  Beth’s dad led his horse up to hers. He grabbed the reins.

  “Get off him.”

  “Dad, we’re both fine.”

  “I’m not going to have a horse that can’t be trusted.”

  “Someone threw a firecracker at his feet. You’d jump, too.”

  Buck Bradshaw’s jaw worked, clenching and unclenching. “I wouldn’t have put you on him if…”

  “Dad, I’m a grown woman, not a child.” She held the reins tight. The horse stood calmly, or as calmly as he could considering the arena, the lights, the crowd and the deafening noise that had startled them both out of ten years.

  Jeremy rode up close to her. He opened his mouth and Beth raised a hand to stop him.