Rodeo Family

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Russ.

  Chapter 2

  Tori’s mouth went dry. She froze in place. Why had she never thought of him coming here? Because in the three weeks since he’d moved in, he’d never once come to see her at work. He’d only cared about her bed and using her as a punching bag.

  But no more. Done. She was done. Just like that Country song she liked.

  Just keep him calm. And deal with him later.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he sneered, his words slurring together.

  Drunk. Which made him even more volatile.

  “What can I do for you, Russ?”

  “For starters, you can come home. Where you been, babe?”

  The endearment made her skin crawl. How had she put up with him as long as she had? Simple. He terrified her.

  “I really can’t talk now. I’m working.”

  He scanned the store. “Nope. Don’t see any customers.”

  “But my boss is in the back. We’ll have to discuss this later.”

  “We’ll discuss it now.” He took a menacing step toward her.

  “Really, Russ, you need to go.” She hated the quiver in her voice. “You’ll get me fired.”

  “And you’re bluffing. Nobody’s here but us.” He ran a finger over a lampshade, then whacked his hand into the base creating a domino effect of falling lamps. Glass shattered and flew while rawhide shades tumbled in a heap.

  “Please stop.” Tori clamped her hands over her ears.

  Russ picked up a large piece of glass, ran his fingers across the jagged edge and took another step toward her.

  “Hold it right there.” Jenna stepped out of the storeroom, holding a large bronze statue above her head with both hands. “I just called 911 and the store next door to round up as many burly cowboys as possible and send them over. So I suggest you stay put.”

  The door opened and six cowboys trooped in as Jenna scurried to Tori’s side. Two of the men blocked the door while the others created a barrier between Russ and the two women.

  “This guy bothering you ladies?”

  Tori couldn’t tell which cowboy had spoken, but his voice sounded familiar.

  “Yes.” Jenna still held her statue like a weapon. “I called 911. If you could detain him until the police arrive.”

  Russ bolted for the back, but one of the cowboys cut him off.

  “Didn’t you want to say something to him, Tori?” Jenna elbowed her.

  Tori’s mouth opened, but nothing came out for a second. “Done. We’re over. Done.”

  “Got that?” The man with the familiar voice jabbed a finger at Russ. “She doesn’t want to see you again. And we don’t want to see you round here again. Got that?”

  Mitch Warren and another officer rushed in the front door, hands on holstered guns, obviously not sure who the suspect was.

  “Right here’s our troublemaker, Mitch.” Jenna pointed to Russ. “I want this man arrested for vandalism and terroristic threats.”

  “No, Jenna. Please.” Tori breathed the plea. “It will only make things worse.”

  “If this loser is in jail, he can’t take his frustrations out on innocent victims.”

  “What’s going on, Jenna?” Mitch asked.

  “This man threatened my employee and broke my lamps.”

  Mitch, Jenna’s cousin’s Texas Ranger husband, turned to Tori. “Is that true?”

  “He didn’t really threaten me.”

  “He cornered you, Tori.” Jenna blew out a frustrated sigh. “With a big piece of glass from the lamps he broke. He frightened you. That’s a threat in my book.”

  “Did anyone else see what happened?”

  “They came in after the fact.” Jenna set her statue down, as if she’d just realized she still held a potential weapon. “I called the store next door and asked the owner to round up some men to keep him under control until y’all got here.”

  “He had her cornered when we got here and he was holding a big piece of broken glass.” The familiar leader backed up Jenna’s claim. “And then he tried to bolt out the back.”

  “And I’ve got it all on tape thanks to my security camera.” Jenna played her trump card with a satisfied grin.

  With the men who’d come for backup sidetracked, no one covered the door. Russ bolted.

  “Whoa, hold it right there.” Mitch cut him off and Russ threw a punch, but his fist only met air as he wobbled.

  “I didn’t do nothing.” Russ growled. “The tramp ain’t worth the effort.”

  Tori clamped her hands over her ears.

  Mitch cuffed Russ.

  But she knew he wouldn’t be locked up long. And when he got out, he’d come after her.

  Just like the time she and her mom had slipped out in the middle of the night so long ago. But her dad found them. And her mom had paid with that last beating.

  And her life.

  The bell above the door jingled as Mitch led Russ out. The familiar man turned to face her.

  The man from the other night. The one she’d pulled the poker on.

  * * *

  “You hungry?” Brant’s bootheels tapped across the brick-lined streets of the Fort Worth Stockyards.

  “Not really.” Tori strode beside him, hugging herself.

  The sixty degree temp drew locals and tourists to the historic district. The locals wore cowboy or cowgirl gear. The tourists wore cameras.

  “Jenna said to feed you. I don’t want to have to answer to her later.”

  “My stomach’s all in a jumble. If I ate something, I’d probably hurl.”

  “Understandable.” He let the rest of their trek to his truck fall into silence.

  He’d given his official statement then waited outside while Mitch spoke with the other witnesses. Eventually, Jenna had come outside with Tori and asked him to take her home.

  Tori, still shaking, had insisted she was fine. But Jenna was more insistent.

  “Here’s my truck.” He opened the door for her.

  “I really can drive myself. No sense in you driving me all the way to Aubrey.”

  “You seem shaky to me and it’s not that far. Besides, it’s church night. I was planning to head there after I did my shopping.”

  She hesitated a second, then climbed in.

  He was glad he kept his truck clean. No fast food sacks or manure in the floorboard. Not in his truck. He shut her door and rounded the vehicle.

  As he started the engine, he scanned her wounded eye and profile. “That jerk the one who did that to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He grazed her cheek with the back of his fingers and she flinched. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I don’t hurt women. I just wanna see your eye.” Still a bit puffy and yellow bruising her makeup didn’t quite cover. He gently cupped her chin and turned her to face him. “Looks a lot better. Did you ever see a doctor?”

  “No.”

  “Should’ve. A blow like that could’ve cracked your eye socket. And if you’d seen a doctor, you’d have evidence for the police.”

  “I’m not pressing charges.” She shuddered.

  “Why not?”

  “He’d only get out and come back madder. I wish Jenna hadn’t pressed charges.”

  “If nobody presses charges, a jerk like that will keep shoving people around.” He traced her cheekbone. “Hurting women. He needs to be stopped.”

  “Men like him can’t be stopped.” She pulled out of his grasp. “Sorry you got caught up in this.”

  “I’m not. I never mind rescuing damsels in distress. My white horse was getting bored.”

  A tiny smile curved her pretty lips. “How did you end up in my little drama?”

  “I was in the gift
shop next door looking for a birthday gift for my sister.”

  “Did you find something?”

  “I’ll come back another day. So, it’s four o’clock and I skipped lunch. How about an early supper?”

  “Can you take me home now? I mean to the guesthouse.” Her laugh came out harsh. “I guess I don’t have a home anymore.”

  His gut twisted. Hurt, hunted, homeless. Made him want to protect her. Keep her safe. “You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

  “Maybe drive through McDonald’s. My mom used to take me to McDonald’s to cheer me up after...”

  He waited for her to finish, but she didn’t. After what?

  “Want to stop here or in Denton?”

  “Denton. That way it’ll stay warm on the drive to the guesthouse.”

  “I don’t let just anybody eat in my truck, but you can eat in my truck anytime.”

  Another tiny smile escaped. “Thanks, but I’ll wait. Maybe by the time we get to the guesthouse, my stomach will settle.”

  He scanned her profile again wanting to know more about her. What had gotten her to this point? She tugged at something deep inside him. Something that wanted to make sure that jerk never got close enough to hurt her again.

  * * *

  Tori nibbled on her Filet-O-Fish on the front porch swing. Brant sat on the floor, leaning against an Austin stone pillar. As he wolfed down his Big Mac, his gaze barely left her.

  “Are you supervising me?” Tori took a sip of her shake. “You really can go anytime. I’m fine.”

  “I told you, I don’t want to tangle with Jenna. I’m making sure you eat. Besides, I have time to kill before church.”

  “So you met Garrett in Nashville?”

  “Right after high school. We met at church, realized we were chasing the same dream and got an apartment together.”

  “You’re a musician?” She winced as the unintended bitterness in her tone turned the word ugly.

  “Guilty. Garrett stuck it out, but I went home after a year to Pleasant Valley, Texas—near Wichita Falls.”

  “What brought you to Fort Worth?” Tori dropped her empty sandwich box into the paper bag beside her.

  “While Garrett was doing his two-month headliner gig at the Stockyards, he recommended me.” Brant finished his meal and wadded his trash in a ball. “My sister is a school nurse in Garland. I’ve wanted to live closer to her since her husband died a few years ago.”

  “He must have been young.” Tori pushed off with one foot, sending the swing into a jerky diagonal movement. Just like her life—off-kilter. She clamped her French fry container tighter between her knees. “What happened?”

  “He was a Texas Ranger, Mitch Warren’s partner.” Brant’s ironic laugh sounded more like a grunt. “But he died in an off duty car wreck.”

  “That’s so sad.” And she meant it. She knew how it felt to lose someone you love.

  “It was tough on her. Especially since their son was only three. But she’s trying to follow through on their plans to raise him in a small town. She applied for the school nurse position at Aubrey and we were looking to buy Jenna’s house together, but she didn’t get the job.”

  “Has she applied anywhere else? Plenty of small towns, doctor’s offices and hospitals around here.” Tori popped a French fry in her mouth and turned sideways on the swing, stretching her legs out on the seat.

  “She wants to work at a school, so her hours match her boy’s, but none of the other smaller schools have openings.”

  “Do you still want to be a music star?” Her voice quivered. She pushed off the porch rail behind her and set the swing in motion again.

  “Not like you’re thinking, but I am hoping it will lead to something bigger.” He caught her gaze. “What’s your story, Tori?”

  Despite everything, his unintentional rhyme got a grin out of her. But where to begin on her story—as if she even wanted to. She closed her eyes. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Really. I do. Maybe someday, you’ll decide you want me to know.”

  He was too good to be true. She’d never told anyone her story. He probably wouldn’t believe her if she did.

  “Can I at least know your last name?”

  “Eaton. Go ahead.”

  “What?”

  “Give me your best joke about Tori Eaton eatin’ French fries.”

  He grinned. “I’m no good with jokes when I’m trying. You going to church tonight?” His voice was soft, gentle.

  Something stirred deep inside Tori. Jenna had dragged her to church over a year ago and something had stirred then, yet she’d walked away and vowed to never go back. But after Russ and the mess she’d gotten herself into, maybe God was the only one left to turn to.

  “I promised Jenna I’d go when I got presentable enough.” She gingerly touched the skin under her eye. “Swelling’s gone. Still a little red and yellow.”

  “Nobody would notice if they didn’t know what happened. And for the record, you were presentable last week. Even with your shiner and fire poker.”

  Something tightened in her throat. Why was he being so nice to her? The same way Jenna had always gone above and beyond to be kind to her. Could their God make her like them?

  “I think I will go.”

  Brant’s eyes lit up as if she’d handed him a million dollars. “Great! Want to ride with me?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, we’re both headed to the same place. And it’s not like you have a car handy.”

  “Thanks, but I need to put a fresh coat of makeup on my eye.” She stopped the swing and stood. “I’m sure Jenna and Garrett will give me a ride.”

  “I can wait. I mean, since I’m already here and all. Save them a stop.”

  She bit her lip. Five days ago, as she lay on the floor after Russ’s beating, she’d sworn off men. But Brant was unlike any man she’d ever known. Could she really trust him?

  “What should I wear?”

  He scanned her black slacks and jacket paired with a black-and-white-striped top and heels. Quick. Not the way most men looked her up and down. And his interest was obviously only on her attire.

  How had she not noticed his jade eyes before now? Such a contrast against his sun-bronzed skin, short dark hair, and close-clipped beard.

  “I’m wearing what I’ve got on. We’re casual on Wednesday night.”

  “Let me freshen up.” She picked up her bag of trash, retrieved his and headed for the door. “Want to wait inside?”

  “I’m fine here. Take your time. I’ve still got a good forty-five minutes before I need to be there and it’s just down the road from here.”

  Every other man who’d ever taken her home was inside with his belt buckle unfastened by now. Could this guy be for real?

  * * *

  The pressure in Tori’s chest built. The pressure that began when she’d agreed to ride to church with Brant.

  As they stepped inside the lobby, people greeted them. As a couple. Maybe they shouldn’t have come together.

  “I wasn’t aware our new song director was married?” An older woman clamped onto Tori’s arm. “Where has he been hiding you?”

  Song director?

  “We’re not.” Her voice blended with Brant’s.

  “This is Tori. A friend of a friend. I mean we’ll probably end up being friends, but we only met a few days ago.”

  The older woman’s mouth formed an O. “My mistake. But we’re glad you came, Tori. Just make yourself at home.”

  As more people welcomed her, Brant was hustled away by two men in suits. Leaving her alone and outnumbered by people she didn’t know. Definitely should have ridden with Jenna and Garrett.

  Jenna entered the sanctuary as if on cue followed by Garrett. His presence barely caused a ripple. I
t was obvious the congregation was used to having the Christian music superstar in their midst.

  “I’m so glad you came.” Jenna rushed to greet Tori with a hug.

  She wished she could say the same, but Tori wasn’t glad. She’d never been so uncomfortable in her life.

  “Did you meet everyone?”

  “And their horse.”

  “A bit too much.” Jenna grimaced. “Let’s sit, okay?”

  “Yes, please.” If Tori could only sink through the floor and disappear. She scanned the church. White walls, soft lighting, burgundy carpet and padded pews. Hymn books in the racks. Not a whole lot different from the church her aunt Loretta attended. The people were just as welcoming. And overwhelming. Why did kindness overwhelm her?

  Because she wasn’t used to it.

  The pianist played a hymn softly as people settled in and the pastor made a few announcements, including the need for a new pianist.

  The pianist launched into “Sweet Hour of Prayer” as Brant approached the pulpit. Although she played well, she paid no attention to the timing on the page and set her own pace instead of following the singer. Which was fine, just kept the singer on his toes.

  Brant’s raspy baritone seemed effortless as he flew threw the song. But from his occasional glances at the pianist, Tori guessed he was being kept alert.

  Two more hymns followed and he descended the stage. Her breath caught. Would he sit with her?

  Brant glanced at her as he sat by the pastor on the front pew. Something in her stomach balled in a tight knot as the kids dispersed to classes and a man stepped forward to teach.

  Stupid. Why had she even thought he might sit with her? What surprised her most was that she wanted him to.

  * * *

  As the deacon wrapped up his lesson, Brant’s mind stayed firmly on Tori. He’d have given anything to sit with her. Even with Jenna at her side, she still looked as if she might jump through her own skin. Had she ever been in church before? It hadn’t really been a salvation message. And the one thing he knew about Tori for certain, she needed Jesus.

  The pastor stood and Brant followed, flipping to the song index as he went. “Have Thine Own Way, Lord.” The song that consistently dragged him to the altar even on the rare occasions when he’d been a good boy.