To top it off, her dad was sick. Her mother said it was something he ate and he’d be fine as soon as the medicine took hold. He just didn’t dare get too far from the bathroom in the meantime, which left Violet to deal with the stock, the committee, the contestants, the judges, and Cole, and she was not in the mood. Her eyeballs felt like she’d fallen and scraped them on the sidewalk and her head throbbed, each beat of her heart a steel-tipped hammer blow to the inside of her skull.
Imagine how much worse it would’ve been if Joe had stayed.
Her face burned at the fresh slap of humiliation. The man had kissed her like she was water and he’d been crawling across the desert for a week, and he’d been as turned on as she was. Hard to hide that not-so-small detail when she was plastered up against him. Then bam! He pushed her off and walked away. What the fuck? Or not, as the case may be.
Violet repeated the curse out loud as she stumbled over a beer bottle tossed in the grass behind the bleachers. Jerk slob littering assholes. She’d like to smack them upside the head with their own trash, along with the moron who was supposed to be opening the chute for the timed events. By rule, the job was not supposed to change hands for the entire length of the rodeo, but this gate man had staggered in still drunk from the night before. She’d had a dozen ropers, five committee members, and three judges arguing about who would replace him.
Slack had started eventually—fifteen minutes late—then screeched to halt again when a hinge broke on the chute gate. A local welder was now attempting to repair the damage while agitated ropers paced and bitched about how they had to hurry up and get to the afternoon performance at another rodeo down the road. Well, they’d just have to hold their horses, literally and figuratively. She was doing the best she could, and now that the drunk had staggered away to sleep it off, she was doing it one man short.
And despite what he’d said about seeing her in the morning, Joe had yet to show his face. Figured. Just when she thought she could count on him, he left her wanting in every way possible. She hustled around the back of the stock pens and into the ramshackle rodeo office. Cole was there alone, rooting through a portable file box filled with Iris’s paperwork.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded, jerking the box away from him. “Mom will have your hide if you mess those up.”
Cole swiped a sleeve across his sweaty face. “One of the steers is coughing. Just dusty hay I think, but the judges want him pulled. They need the numbers for the extras to draw a replacement.”
Great. Now the ropers would have something else to bitch about.
“Where’s Mom?” Violet asked, flipping through the file box to find the folder with the morning’s draw sheets.
“She ran over to check on your dad. And Beni’s being a pain, too.”
Of course. With a kid’s perfect sense of timing, Beni had been impossible from the moment he popped out of bed. He wanted pancakes. No, waffles. No, French toast. With juice. Or maybe milk. Then he was full after three whole bites. Then he started whining about being bored. He was tired of this game. He wanted his other game, the one she couldn’t find. He wanted to be home. He wanted his daddy. Violet would have gladly handed him over except whoops!, Delon was probably still handcuffed to a bed in Omaha if Stacy Lyn had had her way with him. Men. Not one of ’em Violet wouldn’t trade for a good horse and a foot massage.
She found the team roping draw sheet and held it out to Cole. He lifted his hands, backing away. “You can take it down there.”
“I need to go get Beni.” And grab another handful of ibuprofen while she was at it.
Cole’s face went stubborn. “I’m almost twenty minutes late graining the horses.”
Lord knew she didn’t dare suggest the horses could wait another ten minutes. Cole already looked like he might hyperventilate. “Get Hank to do it.”
“He took off last night with some girl. Where’s Joe?” Cole looked around like maybe Joe was hiding behind one of the dusty cobwebs in the corner of the office.
“Sleeping, I assume.” Violet shoved the draw sheet at Cole. “It’ll take you two minutes to drop this down at the roping chutes.”
Cole shook his head. “They’ll all start yakking at me and I hate that.”
Violet stomped her foot in sheer frustration, then paid the price as pain shot clear to her hip. “Gawd! You are such a butthead.”
But the words only bounced off Cole’s retreating back.
Her mother hustled into the space he’d vacated, Beni in tow. “Did they get the roping chute fixed yet?”
“I’m going to check right now.” She fluttered the piece of paper in her hand. “And take this draw sheet down there, while I’m at it.”
“I want to stay in the trailer and play my big video game,” Beni whined. “It’s boring in here.”
Violet scooped Beni up to prop him on her hip like when he was a toddler. Sheesh. He must’ve gained ten pounds in the last month. “How ‘bout you help me take this draw sheet to the roping chutes, then we’ll go get a snack. What sounds good?”
“Popcorn!”
At nine-thirty in the morning, when he hadn’t finished his breakfast? Oh, what the hell? She’d be Mom of the Year some other day. “Can do.”
She gave him a squeeze and a smacking kiss, then continued on her way, albeit more slowly. Packing the extra weight did nothing for the pain in her shins. Praise the Lord, though, the welder was dragging his equipment out of the arena and they were back in business. At this rate, they might get this slack run off before Joe got around to crawling out of bed.
She gave the draw sheet to the judges and watched to be sure the next few tie-down ropers got out of the box without the chute gate falling off. Then she gathered up Beni and swung by her trailer, where she popped a bag of microwave popcorn, grabbed a Coke—if she was gonna be the worst mom ever, might as well do it right—and deposited him back at the office while she went to see what else had gone to hell in her brief absence.
An eternity later, she trudged back to the office to get her kid, her stomach rumbling. Cowboys strolled past with horses trailing along behind, ropes slung over their saddle horns. Engines rumbled as the slack contestants rolled out and those slated for the afternoon performance began to trickle in. Violet had, at most, an hour to grab lunch and put her feet up before it all started over again.
She rounded the last corner to the office and there was Joe, sitting on a bench outside the rodeo office with…Beni? They were bent over Joe’s phone and Beni was showing him something—either the latest version of Angry Birds or another of the porn sites he’d stumbled across despite every parental control she’d put in place on her phone. Lord only knew with Beni. Joe took the phone, poked at the screen a few times, typed something in, then handed it back.
Beni’s face lit up. “Whoa. That is awesome.”
Then Joe spotted her and sprang to his feet with a tentative smile. “It’s educational, I swear.”
He was wearing his cowboy hat, one of those threadbare chopped up T-shirts, wrinkled jeans, and running shoes, and looked as if his night had been even worse than hers. In other words, he was perfect.
Right there, right then, Violet’s previously undented heart cracked wide open. She felt it, the same as when she broke her arm. She had that same instant to think, Oh crap, this is gonna hurt, and wonder if she could somehow eject from her own body before the pain blinded her. But it was too late. She’d fallen head over heels, and just like when that damn Shetland pony took a hard right and threw her into the fence, this was not going to end well.
Joe wasn’t ever going to stay in Texas. Not for her. Not for the world. When his three rodeos were done, he’d hightail it straight back to Oregon and the only true love in his life—that damn High Lonesome Ranch. There was nothing Violet could do or say to stop him. She could only try to limit the damage.
Chapter 26
As
soon as the announcer’s voice woke Joe, he knew he was screwed. He’d promised to help Violet this morning, and one glance at the clock told him he’d slept through most of the slack. He dragged on the first clothes he found and bailed out of the truck. Violet was nowhere in sight, but Beni was slouched on a bench outside the rodeo office, looking like an abandoned puppy.
Joe hesitated. He was a total novice when it came to kids, and this one struck him as advanced-class material, but he couldn’t just walk past without saying anything. “What’s the problem, big guy?”
Beni rolled his eyes up to give Joe a sullen look. “Grandma’s too busy to get me a snack.”
Joe glanced into the office. Iris was tapping at the keys of her laptop, a cell phone stuck to her ear and a frown on her face.
“Where’s your mom?” Joe asked, like he was only trying to be helpful and not desperate to see her.
“Sorting steers because the gate man is drunk.”
Crap. That didn’t sound good. Iris hung up the phone, muttering something under her breath that wasn’t appropriate Sunday morning talk. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Joe.
“Could you watch Beni while I find Cole? Steve’s got…well, he’s not feeling so hot, and now next week’s committee wants to add a rookie bareback riding event, and I can’t give them an answer.”
“Uh—”
“Thank you.” She shut and locked the office door, hustling away before he had a chance to utter a complete word.
Joe looked at Beni. Beni looked back, equally skeptical about the arrangement. Then he heaved another sigh. “I’m still hungry.”
Oh hell. He could at least buy the kid a snack. Come to think of it, he was starving, too. “We can grab something at the concession stand. What do you want?”
Beni perked up. “A Snickers.”
“How ‘bout a pancake?” Joe countered.
“I already had one of those.” His eyes narrowed, wheels spinning in his head. The word conniving crossed Joe’s mind, but geez, the kid was five. “Maybe some popcorn?”
Well, it wasn’t candy, and it was made of corn, which made it a vegetable. That was good, right? They went to the nearest concession stand, got a bag of popcorn for Beni and a burger for Joe, and brought it back to the bench in front of the rodeo office. Beni munched happily. Joe swallowed his burger in three bites and fidgeted, impatient. If Iris would come back and cut him loose, he could at least help pen and sort the stock for the performance.
“Grandma said you and my mommy went on a date,” Beni said.
Joe snapped to attention. Oh hell. What was he supposed to say? “Uh…yeah.”
“And you stayed out real late. That’s why Mommy’s cranky today.”
“I…guess?” Joe winced at the pathetic reply. Geezus. He really sucked at this.
Beni’s eyebrows scrunched in accusation. “You better not’ve tried any funny business.”
Joe made a sound halfway between a choke and a laugh. He was tempted to ask what a five-year-old knew about funny business, but he was afraid of the answer. And the follow-up questions. He met Beni’s gaze, keeping his own steady and somber. “No funny business.”
Beni did a classic Eastwood squint, a half-pint badass. Joe didn’t flinch. This, he realized suddenly. This was the reason he’d had to walk away from Violet last night. So he could look her son in the eye this morning and not blink. Not lie. It was worth every aching, miserable minute since. For the first time in very long time, Joe felt…clean.
Or at least cleaner.
Beni gave him a half-nod, then slouched against the wall and shoveled in a fistful of popcorn. “Got anything good on your phone?” he mumbled through a full mouth.
“Huh?”
“Games and stuff. I get in trouble when I’m bored.”
It sounded like a threat. Having seen Beni in action, Joe was prepared to take it seriously. He pulled out his phone and handed it over. “We can download something from the app store.”
“Cool.” In less time than it took Joe to pull up a number on speed dial, Beni found what he wanted and handed the phone back to Joe. Zombies vs. Aliens. “Your mom lets you play this?”
“She never said I couldn’t.”
Which was pretty much what Joe had told Violet after asking her dad if they could date. Nice try, kid. Joe tried a different tack, opening a browser and pulling up a site Wyatt had found that showed all of the wind currents rippling and eddying across the United States. The effect was mesmerizing, and would hopefully distract Beni long enough for his grandmother to get back.
“Here. Check this out.”
As Beni took the phone, Joe glanced up and saw Violet watching them. Hair straggled out of her ponytail, stuck to the sweat on her neck, and her face was flushed, a streak of dirt across one cheek and a smear of calf shit on one thigh. She stared at him as if he was holding Beni at gunpoint, then her expression went weird, sort of queasy, like she’d been punched in the stomach. Her gaze slid, fixed on Beni, and her eyes narrowed.
“Where did you get that?” She stalked over and snatched the nearly empty bag of popcorn out of Beni’s hand.
“He gave it to me,” Beni whined, like Joe had forced him to take it.
Joe froze like a jackrabbit caught out in the open desert. If he kept still enough, she might find another target.
Violet crushed the bag into a ball and slam-dunked it with enough force to rock the aluminum trash can. “Did I not say you couldn’t have any more today? Are you trying to make yourself sick?”
Beni ducked his head and pushed out his bottom lip. “I was hungry.”
“Because you didn’t eat your breakfast, which is why I told you no more snacks until lunch.”
“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “I didn’t know—”
Violet nailed him to the bench with a disgusted glare. “That’s why he hit you up. You’re the only one he could con.”
Perfect. First he’d been a no-show for the slack, then he’d been played by a preschooler.
Violet grabbed Beni’s hand and hauled him off the bench. “You’re going to the trailer, mister.” As she dragged him away, she looked over her shoulder at Joe. “And you…stay right there.”
Any man who’d ever had a mother knew that tone of voice. Joe stayed. Iris came back, her gaze falling on the empty space beside him, then rising with a question.
“Violet took him to the camper,” Joe said.
“Then the slack must be over. Thank God.” She gave him a weary smile and went on inside.
Contestants came and went, glancing curiously at Joe, some lingering to chat with Iris. Hank wandered back from wherever he’d spent the night and made himself comfortable, flirting with a couple of barrel racers while they checked the time sheets from the slack. Cole wandered in with his dog and they kicked back in the corner to share a sandwich. When Violet reappeared, Joe got up to meet her out of earshot of the crowd. She led him around the back side of the building.
“Is Beni okay?” he asked.
“Fine, until all that popcorn starts coming out the other end.”
“Oh.” Shit. Literally. Joe took off his hat, scooped his fingers over his head, then frowned when there was no hair to push out of his face. “Listen, Violet—”
She gave a quick, hard shake of her head. “Beni’s a pro. Everybody falls for his song and dance somewhere along the line.”
Joe rolled the brim of his hat in his hands, unease skittering up his spine at her stony face. Not just angry. Closed. Distant. “I should have been here to help this morning. I’m sorry. I slept right through my alarm.”
“We hired you to fight bulls, not push roping calves.”
“Well yeah, but I promised—”
She folded her arms tight across her chest, her gaze glued stubbornly to the ground between them. “We’ve managed to get by this long without you.”
Joe slapped the hat back on his head, stung by the ice in her voice. “I’ll just get out of your way, then.”
“Wait.” She reached out a hand to grab his arm, then snatched it away as if the touch burned her fingers. “We need to…talk.” She swallowed. Twice. And still her voice was husky. “I can’t do this, Joe.”
His heart stuttered. “Do what?”
“This.” She circled a hand in the air to indicate the two of them. “There’s not enough of me to go around right now. I need to tend to business.”
He stared at her, incredulous. “You’re dumping me because I slept in?”
“No! I’m not…we weren’t…” She bit her lip and averted her face. “You’re leaving next week. I’m only cutting things a little short. It’s just…it’s better this way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of my kid.”
She turned on her heel and made a beeline for her trailer, those long strides sure and swift. No hesitation. No looking back. Joe could only stare after her, stunned to the verge of paralysis. The quiet clearing of a throat pulled him out of the stupor. Hank stood at the corner of the rodeo office and the look on his face said it all.
Humiliation rained down, deepening the chill settling into Joe’s bones. “You heard?”
Hank nodded toward an old swamp cooler set in the wall of the building, right next to where Joe was standing. “Sound comes right through that thing.”
Great. Once again, Violet had found a way to go public with her love life, but this time she wouldn’t be the butt of the joke.
* * *
No one was in any mood to howl and pound their chest that afternoon. Steve prowled the back of the chutes like a mountain lion with a bad tooth, taking swipes at anyone who moved too slow, and Violet was stone-faced and silent behind her sunglasses. Iris’s smile was strained around the edges. Even Hank was subdued. All of them kept a safe distance from Joe, as if he’d sprouted a mysterious rash and it might be contagious. The crew was in such a rush to load up and get gone, he barely had time to grab his bag out of the truck before it hit the highway.
Reckless in Texas Page 20