Kane (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 6)

by Sinclair Jayne

  Show-off.

  “Kane, the T-shirts for the 4-H group you sponsor in Phoenix are back and ready for me to distribute. You usually sign them before the kids get here. He has so many groups he sponsors.” The young girl, sweetly crushing on Kane, turned to smile at Sky.

  “Thank you, Janie, I will.” Again Kane glanced at the massive watch that looked like it did a heck of a lot more than tell time. “Once I finish a couple of interviews, I will come sign all the shirts. Let’s roll.”

  They walked toward a large cordoned-off area marked ‘press’ with lots of people, lights, equipment and a buzz of activity. Sky slowed, feeling massively uncomfortable. She’d always felt bad that he left her out of this part but now that there were more people moving about, most of them with a strong sense of purpose, Sky balked.

  “What?” Kane waited. “You wanted to experience my job, all of it, the whole tour.” His voice had a definite edge.

  “We’ll just wait…” She looked around for somewhere to sit or something to do. Montana had books in her bag. And now a stuffed bull. And blanket. She might take a nap.

  “You’re going to be busy,” she said looking at the press area, nervousness making her voice husky. “Really busy.”

  She didn’t like crowds on a normal day. Walking the gauntlet of press with an AEBR celebrity while she was wearing a buckle bunny outfit was not in her plans. She knew her parents didn’t watch anything that covered the AEBR or rodeos since Bennington had died, but they still owned a huge ranch and other properties in Scottsdale. Some of their friends might catch a glimpse of her and Montana and Kane and put two and two together. She’d already ruined their lives enough. She didn’t need to rub their noses in their grief by hanging on the arm of the man they blamed for their son getting into bull riding instead of heading off to college to study business and law like they’d expected. She didn’t need to add one more insult.

  “I am not hiding my daughter away like a secret,” he hissed.

  “There you are, Mr. Wilder.” A man with a headset walked out of the press area. “Right on time as usual.”

  He shook Kane’s hand, glanced at Sky and kept staring. His eyes lit with interest and Kane frowned.

  “This way,” he said motioning for Kane to follow. “Ma’am, you can come too. Tom Davis.” His voice oozed charm and he held out a hand. “It’s lovely to see Mr. Wilder bring a guest.”

  Sky barely restrained an eye roll. Kane Wilder probably squired busty, blonde beauties to interviews on a daily basis. With her slim body, barely there breasts and long black hair she definitely didn’t fit Kane’s dance card.

  “Welcome to the AEBR,” he gushed, still holding her hand. “You are in for a great show. I can let you sit in the press area if you’d like. I can give you some pointers on what to look for with the bulls and the cowboys during the rides if you are new to the tour.”

  Sky dredged up a smile, and gently tugged back her hand. “Aaaah, thank you.” She hated how she looked to Kane for the answer. Already she was reverting to her teenaged self or worse, her mother. Apologetic. Submissive. Looking for direction.

  “Thanks, Tom,” Kane said easily. “But I have Sky and Montana in the family section.” Two bull riders walked by, greeted Kane and stared at Sky, glances clearly taking in the view. They spoke in a language she didn’t speak, probably Portuguese. They gave Kane a thumbs-up.

  “I’ll wait for you outside the press area,” Sky said stiffly, arms crossed high on her chest. She’d always been small breasted, but with the T-shirt, she felt like she was flaunting the small gifts nature had given her in bright lights.

  “Hold up a sec,” Kane said unzipping his garment bag.

  The way he’d been checking his watch, Sky didn’t think he had a second to spare, but even time cooperated with Kane Wilder.

  He pulled out a light blue silky western-style shirt with black snaps and fed her arms through the sleeves.

  “Kane, I can do it,” she said conscious that some of the din of the press area had quieted. She could feel the looks and smirks even though she kept her eyes glued to his hands as they moved up the shirt. Snap. Snap.

  “More fun this way.”

  She quickly looked up to discern his mood. Could he be forgiving, letting go of some of the tension that had ridden him so hard the last six hours? His eyes were hooded, his face intent, but his hands were gentle.

  The shirt was silky against her skin, and she had to fight the urge to hug the fabric close to her body. He cuffed the sleeves four times, and they stood toe-to-toe, and for a moment, his gaze dropped to her mouth. She held her breath. Was he going to kiss her again? Did she want him to?

  “It’s like a dress,” Kane said, amusement tingeing his voice. Then he slid a belt off the hanger and from a separate sealed compartment he pulled out a buckle.

  He wrapped the belt around her waist, and worked on fastening the buckle. Sky held her breath when his knuckles brushed against her. His hands were warm, and she could feel goose bumps rise along her arms and her tummy as they tingled with awareness. She gasped and his sandalwood and cedar scent teased her senses, making her feel a little dizzy.

  “Won’t you need this to ride?” she whispered, recognizing the buckle for what it was—the AEBR World Championship buckle from last year.

  He finally met her gaze, seeking something Sky thought with a sinking heart that wasn’t there. Once again she was coming up short. Her breath squeezed in her lungs. This close, she could see his long, spiky lashes that framed his beautiful eyes so dramatically. His pale blue irises that seemed to go silver when he when he was angry or aroused darkened to turbulent gray. She’d never seen him angry close up until today, but she remembered the color when he was aroused. She’d mixed pigments trying to match that mercurial silver shot through with a little blue.

  His eyes were spectacular. But so were his dark brows, his bones, his sensuous mouth that still managed to shout masculine. “You’re so beautiful,” she said helplessly, unable to censor her thoughts.

  He let go of the belt and straightened up slowly, his gaze not wavering, and Sky realized with a thud of her heart that she could see forever when she looked at Kane. She had no idea how she’d found the strength to push him away four years ago. Her fear had been more powerful than her love, which was truly pathetic to admit, but she didn’t think she’d be able to do it again.

  Somehow, in one day and one mad dash across the southwest desert, her life had once again changed.

  “I’ll wait,” she said, meaning it, hating it, but knowing with despair that it was true.

  Chapter Six

  Six hours later Sky’s life had spun around in another one-eighty. And feeling punch drunk she curled up on an ugly blue and lilac vinyl cushioned waiting room seat and watched Montana play “tea party with Daddy.” Her heart wrenched because Daddy, after a perfect high-scoring, jaw-dropping ride in tonight’s final, had ended up on a stretcher behind the closed doors in the ER.

  Sky hadn’t seen it happen. She’d seen the ride—and the slam of amazement, thrill, pride, fear and love that he could actually do that had stolen her breath; but Montana had dropped her bull and then her cowgirl hat, and while Sky had crawled on the disgusting kettle corn and soda splashed cement to retrieve both, the crowd, standing up and cheering had suddenly groaned, screamed and then gone eerily silent.

  By the time she’d scrambled to her feet, Kane was flat in the dirt, and the clowns were distracting the bull and the cowboy on his horse had even galloped forward, lasso whirling. Kane got up, after what seemed like an agonizingly long time, but then he staggered, nearly going down again before someone from the medical team helped him to walk off. Sky was sick with worry. For all she knew Daddy might never get a chance to actually play tea party with Montana.

  What if today—six hours in his truck with one stop, incongruously for pancakes at one-thirty in the afternoon—was all the normal Kane got with his child?

  Stop.

  Sky jumped to
her feet too agitated to try to contain the fear and doubt and guilt assailing her mind and her body. Twelve hours ago Kane hadn’t even known he had a child. She should have been winding down from her splashy evening event at the gallery. Montana’s daddy should still have been limited to pictures and images on YouTube. Now what?

  What if he were like Bennington? Her brother had gone down, been trampled by a bull, and when he’d been rolling away from it, a hoof had caught his head. Her brother, the golden one, the beloved son and brother, had never gotten up. Never spoken again. What if today were her last memory of Kane—him angry, bewildered, closed off and feeling betrayed but still driven to fix the situation. As if that were possible, but Kane, ever the optimist, was determined to try.

  God, she could use some of his optimism now. She’d been four years without him, and now, even though she’d dragged her feet, protested all day, and wrapped herself in a defensive cloak, all she wanted to do was curl herself around him. Promise him that she would try to surmount her doubts and salvage something of their relationship so that Montana had a shot at having her mom and dad in her life.

  Together?

  Did she have the nerve to actually go for that? Had he really been serious or just reacting? Maybe once he settled down, he’d realize how improbable the idea was. If he could think at all. She mentally shook off the fear. She had to be strong for herself and their child.

  Theirs. It was the first time the thought had come naturally all day.

  And now it might be too late. Agony shot through her like a flaming arrow. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her anything? Her fault because she wasn’t family. Because they didn’t know her. When she’d finally gathered her wits enough to try to find the medical staging area at the arena, Montana trailing quiet and exhausted behind her, the only thing she’d been given had been an eviction order, and when she’d tried to push past the security guard, she and Montana had been escorted out of the arena and into the night.

  No keys to the truck. No money. The buckle bunny style clothes.

  She’d convinced an off-duty cop who’d been helping with security to drop her off at the hospital. He’d been skeptical, but Sky thought that Montana had swayed him. She’d asked him if he knew her daddy. It had been pretty much the only thing that had gone right all day.

  How many times had he been hurt in four years?

  Sky really didn’t want to know. She paced by a fish tank of tropical, brightly colored fish. Weren’t they supposed to soothe you and lower your blood pressure? Not working.

  Should she try to find his brother Luke somehow? His mother? Sky didn’t even know if either of them lived in Scottsdale anymore. She knew Luke rode the professional rodeo circuit. Kane had told her. He’d watched his brother’s stats and tapes obsessively. He’d been so proud of Luke.

  “Mama, I want Daddy.” Montana was playing pretend tea party with her bull in a toy area in the emergency waiting room.

  “Me too. Soon, baby. I hope soon,” Sky said automatically—not wanting to lie, but wanting to reassure her daughter. She couldn’t imagine a world where Kane wasn’t striding through it so confidently, so sure he was right.

  A large group of people surged into the emergency room. Three suits, but also several cowboys, which made Sky think they must be from the AEBR. About time. One woman, tall, slim and dark, wearing a dark business suit with a red blouse who was perhaps late thirties or early forties seemed to be in charge. She was talking into a cell phone, but also clearly directing the others in the suits who were typing out something on iPads.

  Sky bit her lip. Her instinct was to hide. But she’d been doing that for four years. Bennington used to say ‘ball up’ when he had to do something difficult that he didn’t want to do. The unexpected memory made her smile. What was the female equivalent: ovary up? Womb up? Somehow it seemed sexist that there wasn’t a cool phrase that she could toss out to get her butt in gear and quiet her always-clamoring nerves.

  She was tired of being afraid.

  “Montana, I’m going to go talk to those people for a moment,” she said softly.

  Montana looked up from where she and her stuffed bull were having tea.

  “Then we see Daddy?”

  “I hope so. I’ll be right over there.” Montana stood up, looked with interest at the knot of people and then resumed pouring out more tea and asking her bull if he wanted cookies.

  Sky shuddered to think about the germs in the emergency room waiting area toys. She normally would have wiped everything down but Brandy hadn’t packed any antibacterial wipes in Montana’s backpack. Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Sky touched her hair that she’d twisted up in a messy bun that she’d done and redone reflexively on the way to the hospital. Kane always liked her hair down, specifically he’d liked to take it down, run his fingers through it, his beautiful blue-gray eyes darkening as he became aroused. Would she ever see those beautiful eyes open and focused on her again?

  She needed to find out how Kane was even though she was terrified of the information.

  If she’d married Kane, she’d be in there now. Or at least people wouldn’t have treated her like she had a disease. If she’d married Kane she would have had to go through this waiting routine many times now. God, how many times had he been hurt the past four years? She hadn’t wanted to know. If she married Kane she wouldn’t be meeting his colleagues in this skimpy outfit. No wonder no one took her seriously. She was going to kill Kane for this after he was better.

  And he would get better, she vowed and with shoulders back and chin up a little because she could pretend she had it together for a few minutes, Sky walked toward the group wondering when they’d notice her. Being small and shy meant that you could really sneak up on people and often when you were there, they didn’t notice you right away.

  No one missed or ignored Kane. He’d open a door and everyone would instantly look up, stop talking, approach him.

  Damn charisma.

  It wasn’t helping him now.

  Small, shy and stealthy did not work on this crew.

  The cowboys were open with their curiosity.

  The businesspeople looked on with cool disdain.

  “Yes?” the woman in charge asked, guarded. Did she ever smile?

  “I’m wondering if you have news on Kane, please.”

  She hated herself for adding that last word. Please would not work on that armor.

  “No,” the woman said all succinct confidence as her eyes swept down Sky, clearly unimpressed. “And you need to go home, honey.”

  “I can’t.”

  That was true on many levels.

  “Honey.” The woman’s voice expressed patience and dismissal at the same time. “I have been down this road with y’all.”

  That brought Sky up short. Like she was part of a group. Of what? Groupies? Buckle bunnies? Did Kane have so many women following him they could form a band? Why was he trying to drag her around if he had his own band of women?

  “Just head on home. Kane’s going to need his rest tonight. Besides, sweet cheeks, ever heard of HIPPA?”

  Sky drew herself up to her full height of maybe five-two with the boots. Five-three with good posture. Maybe.

  “I am not a…” She could barely bring herself to say the word.

  “Buckle bunny.” The dark-haired woman laughed. “Nothing wrong with the bunnies,” she said, her voice not unkind. “But you are definitely not his type.”

  Tall. Blonde. Or honey brown. Sometimes two at a time she’d read more than once when she was making a scrapbook for Montana. She’d had to cut out almost as much as she’d kept. Beautiful women who were stacked and eager to tug off his buckle with no more provocation from him than a wink or a quirk of his dimpled smile if rumor wasn’t exaggerated. And it likely wasn’t. Still Sky held her ground, tilted her chin up, as much to hold eye contact as an act of defiance. The emergency room was not AEBR domain.

  “Mama.” Sky had been so focused on taking a stand, she hadn’t noti
ced her daughter tugging on the shirt Kane had given her to wear. Montana’s fingers traced the buckle and then she pulled at it.

  “I want Daddy to give me one of these to wear too. Shiny.”

  Montana pulled at the shirt Sky had bloused over the massive buckle, not wanting to stand out and scream bull rider’s girl. Montana traced the large letters and poster image of a rider atop a bull, hand held high.

  “I want it now.” She pulled harder.

  Sky recognized the signs of a building tantrum and no wonder. Montana been cooped up in a truck most of the day and was completely off her schedule with no familiar reference points other than an overwhelmed mother who was barely holding it together. She tried to pick up her daughter, but Montana kicked at her, still clutching the material.

  “I want to see Daddy now.” Montana was seriously agitated, stomping her feet and pulling at Sky, who struggled to hold on to her daughter.

  “Soon, sweetie, soon.” Sky finally managed to haul the squirming girl into her arms and slung her to the side of her body, locking her in tight. That’s when she noticed everyone was staring at her. Well, not her exactly her but at her very exposed pale as milk midriff and the glaringly shiny and huge buckle that took up a lot of real estate.

  Chapter Seven

  The woman in the suit sucked in a breath and then her gaze riveted on Montana who stared back at her, eyes suspicious, tiny fists grabbing handfuls of her mother’s hair and pulling. Everyone else stared too. Sky felt like she was holding her breath, for what, she didn’t know, but the woman exhaled on a long, long fffff…and then she looked at the man who had hovered next to her the entire time.

  “When Kane is vertical again I’m going to knock him back on his prime ass for this curveball.”

  “Stand in line,” Sky muttered, because the curveball was also a cutter, slider, knuckleball and changeup all in one wicked fast pitch, and Sky didn’t even play baseball but she’d cheered during hundreds of her brother’s games.