The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  She shook her head. “Hope you don’t mind. I... I should have called first. But I thought...”

  “I’d say no?” he suggested.

  “Something like that. I did kind of ignore you at the party earlier.”

  She slipped a small purse up the length of her arm, letting the strap rest in the crook of her elbow. This one was pink with big red hearts and Cupid’s bows. Nate was instantly reminded of Valentine’s Day and his proposal. Had she chosen that particular purse on purpose? Was she remembering, too?

  “Is there something you want, Ronnie?” He hitched his chin at Breeze. “I need to unsaddle her.”

  “I, um, was hoping we could talk.”

  “Really? Because you haven’t wanted to talk whenever I’ve tried.”

  She had the decency to look contrite. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Did your dad by chance put you up to this?”

  She drew back. “My dad? No. What makes you think that?”

  “He mentioned our history at the cookout.” Seeing her stricken expression, he said, “Never mind. I obviously misunderstood.”

  “O...kay.” She appeared more troubled than convinced.

  He took pity on her. Tying Breeze’s lead rope to a metal ring on the outside of the trailer, he proceeded to unsaddle the mare. “Is this about working together? Or did I inadvertently say the wrong thing at the cookout?”

  “Not at all. Everyone likes you.” She moved marginally closer, confusing him even further. “I owe you an explanation for what happened six years ago, and it’s time I gave it to you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ronnie knew she should say something. Anything. She’d come to The Small Change, learned from the guy cleaning stalls that Nate had gone riding on Breeze, waited the twenty-plus minutes outside his trailer for him, then announced she owed him an explanation.

  Only, here she was, following three steps behind him while he returned Breeze to the pasture, racking her brain for the right words and praying she wouldn’t sound stupid. So far, she’d commented on the weather, Sam’s practice schedule for the upcoming week and what kind of crowds they might expect at the Poco Dinero this weekend.

  Gauging by his brief answers, Nate hadn’t been riveted. He was obviously waiting for her to cut to the chase.

  She’d never been good at expressing herself. In their last weeks together, when she’d become increasingly withdrawn, Nate had accused her of purposely shutting him out. Had she? Her sisters thought she’d inadvertently learned to hold in her emotions when their mom died. Everyone had been too immersed in their own grief and despair to listen to a young child.

  The loud clang when Nate shoved the gate latch into place gave Ronnie a start, and she jerked.

  “Nervous?” he asked, his gaze boring into her.

  He would have to notice her reaction.

  “No, no. I, ah, stepped in a hole.”

  “Be careful.” His lazy drawl became even lazier. “There are a lot of...holes...around here.”

  Dammit, he knew she was lying. He’d always been much too adept at reading her.

  “You want to go somewhere else?” he asked.

  “What?” She blinked.

  “You seem uncomfortable. We could go to the bar. Or, the café for coffee.”

  “No.” She shoved her hands in her hoodie pockets. “This is just harder than I thought it would be.”

  “Why did you come if you’re not ready to talk?”

  “You being at Frankie’s today, chatting all cozy-like with Dad and the rest of my family, joking with Sam’s friend...it seemed, I don’t know, easy and natural. As if you belonged.” She raised her eyes to his. “I realized you did belong at one time, and I took that away from you.”

  “I like your family. I’d forgotten how much fun big gatherings are.”

  That surprised her. “Don’t you go home for visits?”

  “Home? Naw. Not since my parents moved. Richmond isn’t home for me. But I see them periodically. Depends where I am at the time. Last year they went to Hawaii over Christmas with my sister and her husband. I celebrated with this very nice retired couple in an RV campground. The wife bought one of those complete turkey dinners from a grocery store and heated it up in their oven.”

  “Sounds terrible.”

  “It wasn’t.” He flashed a melancholy grin. “They had a lot of interesting stories.”

  “But you do see them, right? Your parents and your sister?”

  “Sure. And we talk regularly. Especially on holidays. Well, except for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Right.” Ronnie swallowed. The painful lump that had formed moments ago remained stubbornly lodged.

  “I’m not fit company on that day, and I don’t even try to be. The folks and sis have learned to leave me alone.”

  “How did they take it? When you and I broke...” Oh, just say it, she told herself. “When I left?”

  “They felt bad, of course. They were fond of you.”

  “Same here. They’re great.”

  “We’re not as close as we should be.” Nate propped his back against the pasture gate. “My fault. They only wanted to help, but I preferred to remain miserable and would have none of their... I believe interference was the term I used. And I was angry at Mom for a long time because of what she said to you.”

  This seemed like a good spot to ease into what Ronnie predicted would be the difficult part of their discussion.

  “That, too, is my fault.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it. We’re okay now. Not back to where we were before but better.”

  She glanced away, the sadness in Nate’s expression too great for her to bear. They’d only just shared the good news with their families a month earlier. Nate had been on the phone with his mom the day before. His next calls had been to relay unfortunate news.

  “When I thought about all the people who were affected by my actions,” she said, “not just you and me but our parents and sisters, too, I dreaded facing them again.”

  “Why? Everyone was sympathetic.”

  Speaking had become difficult. Ronnie mustered her courage before continuing. “I was convinced they’d think me a horrible person.”

  “You didn’t cause the miscarriage.”

  “I insisted on competing at Nationals. You didn’t want me to. My dad and sisters told me not to go. And if I’d stayed home instead, I wouldn’t have tripped and fallen.”

  She shut her eyes and saw again the riderless horse charging toward her. Felt her body seize with fear as her legs struggled in vain to carry her to safety, only to have her feet tangle beneath her. Experienced the hard, heavy hit when the ground rushed up to meet her. Heard the chorus of alarmed voices, Nate’s the loudest.

  At first, she’d been simply stunned. An hour later, after the rodeo medic had examined her and insisted she rest, she’d believed herself to be fine. Two hours later, the cramping and bleeding had started and her worst nightmare had come true shortly after she and Nate reached the hospital.

  “You didn’t fall when you competed,” Nate said. “And that’s what we argued about. I still wanted you to come and watch me. You might have wound up in the path of that horse no matter what.”

  “I doubt it. If I hadn’t competed, I would have been sitting in the bleachers, not standing where I was.”

  “We can play the what-if game all night and get nowhere.”

  “You were so mad at me.” She crossed her arms, as much to fend off the encroaching cold as to shore up her defenses. “You wanted the baby, and I saw how much losing it affected you.”

  “It was an accident, Ronnie. An awful, unavoidable accident. The doctor even said the fall wasn’t that bad. He wondered about the health of the fetus and said you may have miscarried anyway at some point.”

  Nonviable pregnanc
y. Those were the words the doctor had used. They hadn’t lessened any of Ronnie’s anguish. Or guilt.

  “We’ll never know, will we?” And that was what tormented her. Steeling her resolve, she continued. “I was unfair to you. You had a right. A say. The decision whether I competed or not wasn’t solely mine to make. I was selfish, and we all paid the price.”

  Her dream since her very first rodeo had been to win a World title. Nate’s, too, but he’d had a dozen titles to his name and thought nothing of missing a year. He hadn’t understood her reluctance to take time off. Her agony of going to Vegas five years in a row and losing all five times. She’d begun doubting she had the talent and determination to succeed.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them away. “I wasn’t entirely reckless, Nate. I talked to my doctor beforehand. He said riding was a personal choice. That I was experienced and as long as I didn’t fall, the baby would be fine. I also talked to some friends on the circuit. Mary Simmons, you remember her? She competed up until her twelfth week with no problems. I never expected to be nearly run down by a horse, but I should have been more careful.”

  Ronnie had lain awake for hours in her hospital bed while Nate dozed in the chair beside her—when he wasn’t consoling her or shedding tears with her. He’d also phoned her father and his parents, who’d arrived the next morning, and conferred with the doctors regarding her care. All in all, he’d been the best, most loving, most supportive partner she could have asked for.

  And how had she rewarded him? By rejecting his beautiful, heartfelt Valentine’s Day proposal and walking out two days later while he was helping a buddy teach steer wrestling to a group of 4-H members.

  “I don’t blame you,” Nate said.

  Yeah, well, how come he kept his distance, not inching closer to her as he’d done at every opportunity since his return?

  “I had a lot of dark emotions in the weeks following the miscarriage.”

  “Trust me, if there’s one thing I’m familiar with, it’s dark emotions.”

  She nodded. “I started examining my whole life. My drive for a title and the reasons behind it. My skewed priorities. Where we were in our relationship. I looked deep inside myself, tried to figure out why I’d put winning ahead of me and you and our baby.”

  “I don’t believe you caused the miscarriage,” he repeated. “It just happened.”

  “The more I thought about things, the more convinced I became your mom was right about what she said to me, and the more immersed in guilt I became.”

  “I wasn’t blind, Ronnie. I realized you were having problems coping.”

  “Yes.” She sniffed. “You were wonderful. Gave me space when I needed it. Held me when I cried.”

  “I must have let you down somehow, some way.”

  “The more you tried to help, the worse I felt. Then, you took me out to that beautiful restaurant for an incredible dinner and proposed.” She wiped her damp cheek. “I got scared.”

  Confusion flashed in his eyes. “Of what?”

  “I wasn’t sure why you proposed.”

  “Why does anyone propose? I loved you.”

  “Believe me, I came up with a lot of reasons. Does he truly want to spend the rest of his life with me? Is he asking out of duty and a sense of responsibility? Is he just trying to help me through my grief and make me feel better? Has he noticed me pulling away and is afraid of losing me? Is he trying to prove to both of us he doesn’t hate me for what I did?”

  “I never have and never will hate you, Ronnie.”

  “But you resented me.”

  “Not true, I swear.” He rubbed his forehead in obvious frustration. “Not for that.”

  She resisted saying, “See! Told you,” and instead asked, “What, then? For leaving?”

  “Leaving without a word. Refusing to return my phone calls. Making me feel like what happened was my fault.”

  “I’m sorry, Nate. I realized I was being awful. You deserved much, much better. But I was worried you’d track me down and convince me to come back with you.”

  “I might have.”

  “To what end? Seriously. A quick, clean break was better.”

  “I loved you. We were good together,” he insisted.

  “I thought so, too. And, then, all at once, we weren’t good together. We faced our first big challenges and look what happened. I shut down emotionally and you overcompensated. We were caught in a vicious circle with only one escape. I took it.”

  “You didn’t give us enough time to heal.” The anger she’d been expecting finally erupted. His terse voice sliced through her with the pain of a razor sharp blade. “Instead, you abandoned me. Us. Our life and entire future.”

  “You’re right.” She didn’t offer yet another apology. “And now you know why I didn’t want you staying here.”

  “Me leaving would make things easier on you.”

  “On you, too.”

  “Running away might be your style, but it’s not mine.”

  That was harsh. Possibly deserved but harsh nonetheless.

  He pushed off the gate. “I’ve finally found something, two things, that give me a reason to get up in the morning. Theo McGraw and recreational bull riding.”

  “I am happy for you.”

  “Except you’d be happier if I rediscovered my purpose somewhere other than Mustang Valley.”

  He walked away then, not letting her finish everything she’d intended to say. A taste of her own medicine, she supposed.

  “I assume we’re in agreement,” she said to his retreating back. “We keep our relationship strictly professional.”

  “For now,” he called over his shoulder.

  * * *

  “OF COURSE YOU’RE GOING.” Mel adjusted her very pregnant body in the thick cushioned recliner while attempting to glare at Ronnie. Her floundering lessened the effect considerably. “Even if I have to drag you there.”

  She was referring to the opening night bull riding event at the Poco Dinero. Before Nate’s arrival a week-and-a-half ago, Ronnie wouldn’t have missed attending for anything. Now, doubts plagued her, especially since their talk the past Sunday.

  They hadn’t parted on the best of terms. He’d come to Sam’s practice on Wednesday but had sat with Theo rather than Ronnie. He’d also avoided her at work. Or she’d avoided him; hard to tell which. A minor miracle considering the many hours they were spending in preparation of their respective events.

  Just this morning, the bulls from the Lost Dutchman Livestock Company had arrived. Ronnie had happened to drive by the bar on her way to the post office and spotted the large silver trailer parked alongside the arena. There had also been a half dozen cowboys on the scene busily working. She hadn’t recognized Nate among them, not that she’d been looking.

  Okay, okay. She had looked. Briefly.

  “There’s no reason I need to be there until tomorrow morning,” Ronnie told Mel. “Late entry sign-ups don’t start until noon.”

  “You can’t miss the first night,” Mel insisted. “We’re all going. Dad and Dolores. Frankie, Spence and the twins. Aaron’s even bringing Kaylee.”

  At the mention of Ronnie’s stepniece, her resolve softened. It would be fun seeing the excitement on the youngster’s face. She hadn’t grown up in a horse town like the rest of Ronnie’s family, who’d all seen countless rodeos.

  “I don’t know.” Ronnie’s resolve wavered in spite of her determination to remain firm.

  “It’s Nate, right?” Her always astute sister naturally pinpointed the problem. “You’re avoiding him.”

  “Yes.”

  There was no point in lying. Mel would see straight through her.

  They sat in the living room of the house they’d once shared. Mel had moved out this past summer when she and Aaron had fallen in love and decided to marry. Naturally, Ronni
e was glad for her sister and absolutely adored Aaron and his daughter, Kaylee. The downside was, having to pay the entire rent and utilities on her own significantly strained her monthly budget.

  She hated the thought of dipping into the remaining money earmarked for her business, the money her father had gifted her from his lottery winnings. Besides, not much was left.

  Which was why recruiting new clients and students had become crucial. Mel made a valid point when she asked what better place to meet potential clients and students than at a rodeo event a large number of horse enthusiasts were likely to attend? Ronnie would be a fool not to take advantage.

  “We’ve reached an agreement of sorts. Strictly business. Nothing personal.”

  Mel pushed awkwardly up from her chair, stomach first. “Are things that bad between you? I noticed you didn’t talk much at the cookout.”

  “I avoided him.”

  “Was that really necessary?”

  “Probably not. Which is why I went to see him at The Small Change afterward. We had a—” Ronnie searched for the right words “—terse exchange. Some things were said.”

  “Do tell.” Mel reached behind her and rubbed the small of her back as if to soothe an ache lodged there.

  “I felt I owed him an explanation for why I suddenly left and didn’t return his calls.”

  “Finally! After six years. That was mighty considerate of you.”

  Ronnie ignored her sister’s sarcastic tone. “It’s not like he had no clue.”

  “What you did to him wasn’t nice.”

  Apparently the gloves were off. Both Ronnie’s sisters had been solicitous and compassionate when she’d first come home, respecting her wish not to discuss the painful details of her and Nate’s breakup. She should have realized they’d side with him.

  Well, who wouldn’t? He’d done nothing wrong, after all. She hadn’t wanted to admit it back then, which was why she’d refused to talk to him or answer his calls. Selfish, yes. Cruel, probably. She knew she owed him an apology.

  Neither of her sisters had made a secret of their continued fondness for him since his unexpected appearance. Frankie had recently referred to Nate as the prize Ronnie let get away. More salt in an old wound, and it had burned.