The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  “Then what is?”

  “Sam, drop it.” Nate put just enough bite in his voice to get her attention. “I won’t be the cause of a problem between you and your sister. If that’s the case, I’ll leave.”

  Sam clamped her jaw shut and rolled her eyes. “She’s impossible. I can’t do anything right, lately.”

  “Not the time or place,” Ronnie warned.

  “Fine. I’ll ask Frankie.” Sam pulled her cell phone from her pocket and tapped in a number before Ronnie could object. “I’m staying with her, anyway, and she has room for another horse.”

  Nate tried again to stop her. “It’s okay. Really. I’ll find a place.”

  She was too busy making the call to listen.

  “Sorry about this.” He smiled apologetically at Ronnie while Sam waited for the eldest Hartman sister to answer.

  “On the off chance Frankie agrees, I’d appreciate it if you decline.”

  For no reason Nate could come up with, Ronnie’s request irked him. “I’m not trying to make trouble for you.”

  “And, yet, you are.”

  “Hi, Frankie,” Sam chirped. “Sorry to bother you at work.” Nate and Ronnie exchanged glances while Sam made her plea. “I promise, it would only be for a couple of days. A week at the most.”

  “Tell her I’ll pay rent.” And Nate would, the moment he found work.

  Emotion sparked in Ronnie’s eyes, but she said nothing. Rather, she stepped up onto the trailer’s running board, reached inside and began petting Breeze. The old horse snorted and closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the head scratching.

  “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Ronnie cooed.

  Nate’s anger faded. Ronnie had once doted on Breeze almost as much as he did.

  “Sure. Of course.” Sam’s gaze cut to Nate. “I will. Thanks.” She disconnected. “Frankie says you and she can talk about it when you get there.”

  “Great.” Not a yes exactly. Then again, not a no. With limited options, he decided he’d agree to whatever terms Frankie named, within reason.

  Ronnie huffed in disgust.

  “I could ride back with you,” Sam suggested. “Save Ronnie from having to drive me.”

  “Sure.”

  “Can we take Big John, too? Since I won’t be riding him at Kingman this weekend, might as well take him home.” The last part included a not-so-subtle jab directed at Ronnie.

  “Let’s load up, then. It’s getting close to dinnertime. I don’t want to interfere with Frankie’s schedule.”

  Ronnie hopped down from the running board. “What about practice tomorrow?” Her voice was strained, but civil.

  “I’m taking the twins to preschool, and then helping Mel until two. She needs some lab tests dropped off at FedEx.”

  Nate’s mom had mentioned something about Sam working for her sisters in exchange for room and board and Big John’s vet care. Again, he reflected on how lucky the teenager was to have such a willing and welcoming biological family, bickering with Ronnie aside.

  “There are only a few days left before we leave,” Ronnie said. “You can’t afford to miss any practice.”

  “I get it.” Sam’s tone was sharp. “I’ll be here. Two thirty.”

  “All right.” Ronnie started to leave, then paused to look at Nate. “Both of you, I’m assuming.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” He slung a brotherly arm around Sam’s shoulders, hoping to incite a rise from Ronnie.

  He got it. She sucked in a harsh breath before pivoting on her heel.

  Sam watched her go. “She can be pretty uptight sometimes.”

  “She always was.”

  “I’m assuming you were, like, boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “Yeah.” He hadn’t planned on admitting even that much. “How’d you guess?”

  “It’s kind of obvious.”

  “Hmm. Apparently, I need to try harder.”

  “When did you two date?”

  “Six years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “We drifted apart.” What else was there to say when he had no clue what had prompted Ronnie to pack up and leave with no warning? She’d obviously fallen out of love and fast.

  “She doesn’t date,” Sam said. “Not since I’ve been here, anyway.”

  “She’s busy. Running a barrel racing school takes a lot of time.”

  “Guys ask her. I’ve overheard ’em. And Mel and Frankie are always telling her she needs to get out more.”

  Nate believed it. Mustang Valley was nothing if not a cowboy town. In addition to the various horse ranches, there were five sizable cattle ranches in the area and as many more within a thirty-mile radius. A gal as pretty as Ronnie must have her pick of men.

  “She’s always telling them no.” Sam followed him to the front compartment where he secured a latch.

  “I really don’t care about her social life.”

  “But don’t you think it’s strange? I’ve only been living here since the summer, and I’ve gone out with two different guys.”

  He paused and gave her a serious look. “Anybody I have to beat up for getting out of line?”

  “Will you quit it?” She groaned.

  “Come on, we need to hit the road. Where’s Big John?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Not long after that, Big John had been loaded beside Breeze, who’d readily accepted her new traveling companion. Nate carefully navigated the long, winding road from Powell Ranch down the mountainside. Sam sat beside him, chatting up a storm and pointing out some of the local sights. He’d been to Mustang Valley twice before, back in the days when he and Ronnie were together. A lot had changed, however, and he appreciated the update.

  Frankie’s house was in one of the new subdivisions on the other side of the valley and, according to Sam, had a mini barn and horse setup. She directed Nate down a side access road where Frankie waited by an open RV gate. She motioned for him to enter and park his trailer in a spot that butted up beside the covered horse stalls.

  He took his time, being extra careful not to hit anything. At last satisfied with the trailer’s position, he shut off the engine and exited the cab. Sam did the same. Later, after he and Frankie had a chance to talk, he’d unhitch the truck from his trailer and park it on the street.

  “Hi, Frankie.” He considered giving her a hug when she met up with him in front of his truck. At the last second, he reconsidered and reached out his hand. “I really appreciate this.”

  She returned his handshake with genuine warmth. “I wish it could be longer, but I can only let you stay until Monday.”

  Sam had left that part out. Well, no matter. It was enough he had a place for the next four days.

  “Did Sam tell you, I insist on paying rent?”

  “She did, and I won’t hear of it. You can help with chores and maybe some repairs.”

  “Anything you need.”

  The teenager scurried about, unloading Big John first and taking him to his stall.

  “In the meantime,” Frankie said, “you’ll find a garden hose and heavy-duty electrical cord in the tack room. It’s unlocked. There’s an outlet over there.” She pointed to the side of the small barn. “And the closest water spigot is by the corral.”

  Nate tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “When you’ve finished, come knock on the door. I’ve got supper in the oven, and you can meet my daughters. Spence, too, if he gets home in time.”

  “I don’t expect you to feed me.” Though Nate wouldn’t mind. His lunch had consisted of a stale leftover doughnut.

  She ignored his protest. “And while we’re eating, you can tell me the real reason you’re here.”

  He surprised himself by agreeing. “And maybe in exchange, you can tell me a
bout Ronnie.”

  * * *

  TWO PAIRS OF EYES, one of them brown and the other one green, stared at Nate from across the kitchen table. Weren’t twins supposed to look alike? Frankie’s two certainly didn’t.

  “We’re four,” the smaller one announced and held up the appropriate number of fingers.

  “Not yet,” Frankie corrected as she set plates in front of them. “In a couple of weeks.”

  The little girl giggled impishly and then, like her sister, dug into her food. Nate did as well, after Frankie had taken her seat. Waiting wasn’t easy.

  “This is good.” In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d tasted better meat loaf.

  “Mommy caters food,” the smaller girl said around a swallow of milk.

  Did the taller one ever talk?

  “Is that so?” Nate asked.

  “I-Hart-Catering. H-A-R-T. Like our last name.”

  “Clever. And congratulations on your new business. Sam raved about it on the drive over here. Said you’re really picking up steam.”

  He’d expected the teenager to join them for dinner, only to learn she’d made plans with a friend. Spence, Frankie’s fiancé, and the father of her daughters, was working late at the horse racing farm where he was head trainer. That left just her, the twins and Nate.

  The slight discomfort he’d initially felt at being alone with them—not to mention his anxiety about the questions Frankie might pose—had been vanquished by the hospitality she’d shown. Hospitality that included feeding him an incredible home-cooked meal.

  “Thanks.” She stopped to reprimand the girls for sneaking their vegetables to the dogs beneath the table. “I only just got I-Hart-Catering off the ground. Time will tell if I can make a go of it.”

  He savored a mouthful of superbly seasoned green beans. “With food this good, I don’t see how you can fail.”

  “It’s not easy. I’m still working full-time at the café and catering mostly on weekends. That may change if things keep going like they are.”

  “Well, good luck to you.”

  She gave her head an incredulous shake. “I still can’t believe your mom and Sam’s mom are such good friends. What are the odds?”

  “Beyond my limited math skills.”

  “I wonder why Ronnie didn’t make the connection when Sam first arrived.”

  “Well, they never met. And while I’m sure I mentioned Sam’s mom, I doubt her last name ever came up.”

  “Did Sam tell you how she found us?”

  “She said your dad won the state lottery earlier this year and she tracked him down online.”

  The story was an interesting one, and Frankie recounted it while they ate.

  “He split the winnings four ways. It wasn’t a fortune but enough to better all of our lives. I bought this house with my share. Mel acquired her veterinary practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and for their honeymoon. And Ronnie started her barrel racing school. Before that she worked for the Powells, teaching classes and training horses. Because the money was spent before Sam got here, we all pitch in to help cover her rodeo expenses. She, in turn, helps us out as much as she can in exchange for room and board and Big John’s medical costs.”

  “Must have been a shock, learning you had a half sister.”

  “Quite a shock. But we adapted quickly.” Frankie set her fork down. “All right, not that quickly. But that’s to be expected.”

  “Have she and Ronnie always squabbled like they do?”

  “Funny you should mention that. No, they haven’t. Just lately. Sam’s really worried she won’t qualify for Nationals, and Ronnie’s trying hard to get her there. That’s probably putting a strain on their relationship.”

  Nate thought back on his own rodeo career. In hindsight, he’d never worried much about qualifying. If it happened, great, if not, no big deal. He’d competed strictly for fun. That he’d earned a long list of titles and made decent money by anyone’s standards had often amazed him.

  He had his late brother, Allan, to thank. Knowing his life would end prematurely, Allan had instilled Nate with a seize-the-moment attitude, and for many years Nate embraced the philosophy. He’d also reaped the rewards.

  But Allan hadn’t lived long enough to learn the higher one flew, the farther they fell, and the more difficult it was for them to recover.

  “Maybe the reason Ronnie and Sam bicker is because they’re a lot alike.”

  Frankie stared at him as if he’d just solved a difficult scientific equation. “You’re absolutely right. Can’t imagine why that didn’t occur to me before. Those two are peas in a pod.”

  The taller twin spoke for the first time. “What’s a pod, Mommy?”

  While Frankie explained, the four of them finished their dinner. Afterward, she dispatched the girls to the family room to play.

  “Can I help with cleanup?” Nate asked.

  “An offer I never turn down.”

  Their friendly conversation continued, centering on Ronnie and Nate’s rodeo days and the good memories, of which there were many. During a break, Nate asked Frankie the question that had been bothering him from the moment his mom called and requested he stop in Mustang Valley.

  “Do you have any idea why Ronnie took off without even leaving a goodbye note?”

  Frankie stopped loading the dishwasher. “You really should talk to her.”

  “I tried, believe me. Kind of hard when she wouldn’t return my phone calls. I’m hoping to ask her when the moment’s right.”

  “If it makes you feel better, she hardly spoke to any of us after she came back.” Frankie’s expression turned sad. “She took the miscarriage really hard.”

  “She wasn’t the only one.”

  “Oh, Nate. I’m so sorry. Shame on us for thinking just of Ronnie and not you.”

  He’d been surprised by his excitement at the prospect of becoming a father, considering how young he and Ronnie both were and the pregnancy being completely unplanned. He’d figured on having kids in the distant future, not at twenty-four and when his career was just beginning to peak.

  “Ronnie really wanted the baby,” Frankie said. “I know that for a fact.”

  “Then why did she insist on competing?” It made no sense to him, then or now.

  “I can only guess. I know the decision wasn’t easy for her and when things went...wrong, she was devastated.”

  Nate had been watching from the arena fence as Ronnie executed her run, his muscles clenching at every tight turn she made around the barrels. He’d gone weak as a pup when, after completing the run, she reined her horse to a stop and climbed off safely.

  Then, the unthinkable happened. While she stood watching the remaining competitors and chatting with friends, a runaway horse appeared from out of nowhere and nearly ran her over, causing her to trip and fall.

  They’d seen the on-site medic and thought she was fine. But a few hours later, he’d rushed Ronnie to the hospital where she lost the baby.

  “I did everything I could to support her,” Nate said, using a trip to the table for dirty dishes to gain control of his emotions.

  “I have no doubt.” Frankie finished loading the dishwasher. Closing the door, she leaned her hip against the counter. “She did say your mother was...harsh when expressing her opinion.”

  His parents had arrived at the hospital the next morning just before Ronnie was to be released. His mother had been thrilled about the baby and couldn’t wait for the arrival of her first grandchild. But rather than comfort Ronnie, she’d made callous remarks about Ronnie not being ready for motherhood and selfishly putting her needs ahead of those of her child. Nate had walked in a short time later to find Ronnie sobbing.

  “My mom did treat Ronnie badly,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t excuse her shutting me out or leaving without a word.”

 
“Ronnie needed to work things out on her own. She’s been like that since our mom died.”

  “Except we both know she hasn’t worked things out.” And, to be honest, neither had Nate. “She’s angry at me for showing up without calling ahead.”

  “Is that the real reason you came here? To get an answer for why she broke up with you?”

  “I came to check on Samantha.”

  “And for closure.”

  “I’m over Ronnie,” he insisted.

  Frankie pushed off the counter. “Okay. If that’s what you say.”

  She didn’t believe him. Then again, she was hardly the only one.

  Together they made quick work of the remaining dishes, both of them giving the subject of Ronnie a rest.

  When they were done, Nate asked, “Are any ranches in the area hiring? Short-term, if possible. And with weekends off. This weekend, anyway. I’m going to the rodeo with Sam and Ronnie.”

  “I don’t know of any. Spence would have a better idea. Though, you could always head into town and stop by the Poco Dinero Bar and Grill. Ranch hands regularly hang out there. Buy one of them a beer and get them talking.”

  It was a good idea. “Thanks for the tip,” Nate said. “And for letting me park my truck and trailer. I promise not to get in the way.”

  “No problem.”

  “Dinner was great.” He checked the time on his phone and grabbed his cowboy hat from where it hung on the back of the chair. “I can see myself out.”

  “Breakfast is at six.”

  “I’ve got food in the camper.” If a couple cans of pork and beans and a box of granola bars counted as food.

  “Come on, Nate. You can meet Spence.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She didn’t insist, and he headed out the front door to where he’d parked his truck. A drive down the main street quickly brought him to his destination, easy to find from the glowing neon signs in the window and busy parking lot.

  What Frankie had predicted was true. Even on a Tuesday, the Poco Dinero boasted a fair-size crowd. Though the small stage—home to whatever band played on the weekend—was empty, a middle-aged couple shuffled across the dance floor, their steps in time to music coming from the jukebox. Small posters on each wall announced the soon to be completed recreational rodeo arena and a website for interested parties to check out the details.