Roni was looking forward to having a little fun with her husband today—watching Jessie take her first ride on a merry-go-round, eating barbecue until they popped, cheering on the local rodeo cowboys as they tried their luck against bulls and broncos and the clock. While she’d certainly had no complaints about Sam’s attentions, he and his crew had worked like the devil all week carting livestock back and forth for Buzz Henry’s perusal. And it had been an impressive presentation. Sam was cautiously optimistic about the chance of landing the contract, but the pressure was immense with so much at stake. It wouldn’t hurt the man to take some time off with his family and enjoy himself.
As the parade broke up at the fairground’s gate, everything became a mass of confusion with floats and riders going in a hundred different directions at once, trucks being cranked, shouts of recognition and greeting as groups of families and friends reunited. Roni clucked softly at Diablo and tapped him with her heels, guiding him through the melee toward Sam’s truck and the horse trailer they’d parked earlier. The others were driving Roni’s Jeep for convenience.
But Diablo, who’d been the perfect gentleman all through the parade itself, suddenly wasn’t sure that he liked all the furor going on around them. He danced sideways, his ears pricked, while Roni struggled to control him.
“Whoa, Diablo. Cut it out, darn you!”
A souped-up truck blasted past, country music blaring out of the teenager’s megawatt sound system. Startled, Diablo pivoted, ignoring Roni’s commands, and for a dismayed moment she was sure she was headed for an ignominious “tail over teakettle” landing. But then a rider on a dappled gray Appaloosa caught Diablo’s bridle, and the big stallion instantly quieted down again.
“Hey, you all right?”
“Fine, thanks. Much obliged.” Grappling with the reins and her racing heart, Roni looked up to find Travis King watching her with a wicked twinkle in his dark eyes. “Travis! My gosh, how are you?”
He pulled the brim of his black hat in an automatic cowboy courtesy, and a grin lifted his mustache. “Roni. Could be better, but can’t complain, I guess. Mighty fine piece of hoss you got there. Which way you headed?”
“Just over there.” Roni indicated the horse trailer emblazoned with the Lazy Diamond brand. Releasing Diablo’s bridle, Travis kicked his mount into place beside Roni and they headed side by side toward the trailer.
“I can’t thank you enough, Travis,” Roni said. “If I’d eaten dust, Sam would never have let me live it down.”
“Powerful animal for a little lady like you.”
Roni grimaced as they dismounted at the trailer. “That’s what Sam said. I guess he’s right, but don’t tell him I said so.”
“Ole Sam...he sure likes being right, doesn’t he?”
There was an awkward space as their eyes met and they acknowledged the burdens of the past. Roni shrugged, both helpless and regretful. “Well, you know Sam.”
“You’re good for him, I’ll bet. He’s a lucky man.”
“And you’re still the sweet-talkin’-est bull rider I ever saw.” Her smile was warm. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“A little of this and that. You know, business, personal appearance, make the hometown crowd happy.”
Travis pulled his mecate reins through his gloved hand, and Roni noticed his movements were stiff. She remembered what Krystal had said about his rodeo injuries and wondered just how serious they were. Battered or not, though, Travis King was still a fine-looking specimen of a man, and Roni was sure that he had a passel of “buckle bunnies” waiting on the sidelines for him in every rodeo town.
“Well, Flat Fork loves to hail the conquering hero,” she said. “Ought to be fun for you.”
He chuckled, but there was an ironic twist to his lips. “Some hero. Look, I put a business proposition to Sam a while back. Tell him it’s still open if he changes his mind.”
Roni bit her lip and nodded. “I will, but...”
“Yeah, I know. He’s a stubborn cuss.” Travis indicated Diablo. “You need any help with his tack?”
“I can handle it, thanks. And Sam will be here soon.”
“I’ll get moving, then. You take care of yourself.” He pulled his hat brim again.
“You, too, Travis.”
She watched him remount, noting again a certain hesitation in his movements that did not bode well for his continued career as a top bull rider. Something told her that is was time for Travis King to hang up his spurs. Turning to unsaddle Diablo, Roni shook her head. What was it about stubborn men, anyway? Sometimes it seemed they never learned.
The rest of Roni’s party caught up with her just as she finished wiping Diablo down. They left the horse tethered with a full feed bag and then adjourned to the Jaycee barbecue stand for an early supper.
Later, before the rodeo, Roni and Carolyn pushed Jessie around the midway in her stroller while Jinks and Sam strolled behind, occasionally trying their hands at the carnival games in an attempt to see who could win the biggest teddy bear for Jessie. When the men decided to throw baseballs at milk bottles and Jessie was happily going around and around on a tiny tots airplane ride, Carolyn gave her daughter another news report.
“Jackson called again this week.”
“Did you give him my message?” Roni asked, waving at Jessie as she made another loop.
“Yes, but he didn’t sound too happy.”
“Do you know what’s nice about all this, Mom?” Roni grinned. “I couldn’t care less about Mr. Dial’s problems.”
“Anyone with eyes can see that married life agrees with you.”
“It’s Sam who agrees with me. He’s perfect. We’re perfect.”
Carolyn’s answering smile flickered. “That’s as it should be, honey. But you’d best remember Sam’s just a man like any other. Marriage is hard enough work as it is. Don’t go building up expectations of perfection. You’re bound to be disappointed.”
“And you’re bound to be a worry wart. I guess that comes with being a mother. I’m finding that out. But don’t worry, everything with Sam and me is fine, just fine.”
Reassured, Carolyn hugged her daughter. “Of course. Look, there’s Krystal. Haven’t those boys of hers grown?”
Krystal and Bud and their three towheaded sons joined the group, and after a few more rides, they all made their way into the arena and found seats on the board bleachers just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the first evening star appeared in the darkening sky.
“Having fun?” Sam murmured in Roni’s ear.
“Yep.” She settled Jessie in her lap and innocently placed her hand on Sam’s knee.
Covering her fingers, he rubbed them suggestively up and down his denim-covered thigh. “But not as much fun as we’ll have later, right?”
She cast him a provocative look under her lashes. “We’ll have to see how the night progresses.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Only for you, cowboy.”
They stood as the announcer introduced the mounted color guard and the playing of the national anthem. Afterward, they cheered and gasped as the rapid-fire events unfolded—calf roping and steer wrestling, barrel racing and bronco busting. Midway through, the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, demanding that everyone give a Flat Fork howdy to one of their own, two-time champion bull rider Travis King.
Roni noticed instantly how Sam stiffened and his eyes narrowed as Travis stepped out from near the chutes to wave his hat at the crowd and take a bow. Roni wondered for a moment if Travis intended to compete in the upcoming bull riding events, then was relieved when he merely headed for the media box at the top of the bleachers. But she didn’t like the hard look in Sam’s eye as he watched his competitor for Buzz Henry’s contract mount the stairs.
“Travis is moving kind of slow these days, isn’t he?” she asked.
“One too many rank bulls, I guess.”
“He was nice enough to give me a hand with Diablo earlier.” B
ouncing Jessie, who was becoming more fractious by the minute, Roni turned to warn off Krystal’s youngest. “No, honey, she’s had enough cotton candy. It’ll make her sick.”
“Here, let me.” Sam lifted the tired and sticky baby and settled her against his broad shoulder. The other members of the group were engrossed in the bull riding.
Relieved of Jessie’s weight, Roni sighed. Leaning on her elbows onto the seat behind her, she fixed her husband with a questioning look and spoke in a low tone. “Why don’t you consider his offer, Sam? He said to tell you it’s still open.”
His jaw grew taut. “You know why.”
“Yes, but when are you going to let it go?”
“We’ve been over this ground, Curly.”
“Okay, okay. But to cut off your nose to spite your face is pretty damned childish, don’t you think? Especially considering circumstances at the Lazy Diamond.”
“You let me worry about that. It’s not your concern, all right?”
“No, it’s not all right!” She sat up straight, frowning. “We’re partners, aren’t we?”
He rubbed Jessie’s back, chuckling. “After the last few days, I’d say more than that.”
Flushing, Roni responded with an angry hiss. “I don’t mean just in bed! I’m a part of this family, too. You’ve got to let me in if this is going to work.”
“Honey, as far as I’m concerned, it’s working just fine.”
“But—”
Bending his head, he silenced her with a swift kiss, a shocking thing for a private man like Sam Preston to do in such a public place.
“Now, now, you two.” Krystal’s teasing voice broke them apart. “There are children present. Set an example.”
“Yeah, Sam,” Bud joked. “Show me that move again. Like this?”
Bud bussed Krystal soundly, breaking up the group with laughter and receiving a playful slap from his giggling wife for his efforts.
After that, the talk turned general again, so Roni had no option but to let Sam’s remarks pass. They niggled at her, however, filling her with a nebulous uneasiness. As close as she and Sam had become, she knew that he held something of himself back at all times, as if he didn’t trust her to be completely on his side, and the knowledge hurt. And although she did trust Sam, and knew she could always depend on him, in a chilling sort of way his withholding of himself was more in the mold of Jackson Dial than she cared to consider.
Jessie fussed against Sam’s shoulder, drawing Roni’s attention. “It’s way past her bedtime. I’d better take her home.”
After bidding everyone good-night, Sam walked his ladies across the pasture parking lot to Roni’s Jeep. The plaintive melody of the carousel carried over the muted roar of the people still enjoying the midway.
“I’ll bring Diablo’s trailer when I come,” Sam said. “Don’t worry if I’m late. I’m going to try to get another word in with Buzz after things finish up here tonight.”
Roni buckled Jessie into her car seat. The little girl murmured drowsily and fell instantly asleep. “Do you think he might be ready to make a decision?”
“I hope he already has—in favor of the Lazy Diamond. But I’m not about to let Travis King get a jump on me if he hasn’t.”
“Oh, Sam.” With a disappointed sigh she slid into the driver’s seat.
“Look, I’m not in the mood for another lecture, okay?”
There was a tension and a sharpness in Sam’s voice that surprised and wounded her. But they’d all had a long day, and she knew that now wasn’t the time for her to push a resolution of the uncertainties that still remained in their relationship, much less his unresolved feelings toward Travis King.
“Whatever you want, Sam,” she murmured, starting the engine.
He leaned in through the window, his features softening. “I want you, Curly, but duty calls.” He dropped a quick peck on her lips. “Keep your fingers crossed, and maybe when I get home tonight we’ll really have something to celebrate.”
* * *
If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all....
With an angry flick of his wrist, Sam turned off the truck radio, killing the country singer’s mournful crooning. He filled up the empty space with a string of curses that didn’t let up until he parked the truck and horse trailer beside the barn back at the Lazy Diamond. Climbing out, he cast a quick look toward the ranch house. A single light shone, but he could hardly bear to look at it. God, what was he going to tell Roni?
Slamming the truck door, Sam gave the rear tire a savage kick of pure frustration. Buzz Henry’s hope-destroying words still rang in his ears.
Sorry, Sam, but I got to go with King’s outfit this year. Maybe next season...
By next season it could be too late. Sam unchained the rear of the horse trailer and walked Diablo free. His hands lingered on the animal, soothing and praising without words, and the stallion wickered softly, butting his forehead against Sam’s shoulder. Sam felt like a traitor.
“Sorry, ole buddy. Old Man Henderson’s been after me to buy you for years. Looks like I don’t have much choice now.”
With a slap on the rump, Sam turned the horse into his corral and latched the gate, a simple enough chore, but the normalcy of his actions was totally at odds with the blasted, barren terrain inside his soul. Adversity was supposed to make a man stronger, wasn’t it? Well, Sam was just tired. Tired of struggling, tired of fighting, but what the hell else was he supposed to do? The Lazy Diamond was his life.
But it wasn’t just him anymore. No, Roni and Jessie were his responsibilities, and Roni sure as hell hadn’t signed on just to find out the ship was sinking. A cold, clenching fear settled in his gut when he thought of her reaction. Well, his back was truly against the wall, and he’d have to retrench if he hoped to salvage anything out of this mess. The problem was, at the moment he didn’t have an inkling what to do next.
But that was nothing new, either. For years, he’d been hiding his fears and his worries, drawing from some unknown source of strength within himself to keep going. His mouth twisted. Sam Preston, strong and silent and stalwart. What a damned joke. But there was nothing for him to do now but play out the hand. Drawing a steadying breath, Sam squared his shoulders and went to the house.
He found Roni at the kitchen table engrossed in some kind of letter. She wore one of those damnable silky kimono robe things, and, from the way his heart lurched, probably nothing under it. Her dark hair was loose, falling down her back the way he liked, and her bare feet curled over the rungs of the kitchen chair. At his entrance, she looked up with an abstracted smile.
“Hi. I waited—” Her expression snapped into focus, and she sat up, alarmed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Sam grimaced. So much for keeping up a stone face to spare her the bad news. She’d read him like a book. Jaw clenched, he hooked his hat on a peg and turned to her with the bald truth.
“I didn’t get the contract. Buzz told me he’s giving it to Travis King.”
She blinked, but no words of commiseration or sympathy fell from her lips. Instead, she glanced down at the paper in her hands and said slowly, “That settles it, then. I’m going to Hollywood.”
Nine
“Just like that?”
Sam looked as though she’d punched him in the gut. With a start, Roni realized what she’d said.
“No, Sam, of course not.” She jumped to her feet, waving the letter. “Let me explain.”
“What’s to explain?” The bitterness in his voice chilled her to the bone. “The belt around here gets tightened another notch, and you turn tail and run. Just like Shelly.”
She flushed angrily, but kept her gaze steady. “That was uncalled for.”
“Yeah, well, if the boot fits...”
“Shut up!” She controlled herself with an effort, then spoke between gritted teeth, slowly, as if to a stubborn and none-too-bright child. “I’ve had a job offer. A very lucrative offer. One that will make it possible to keep the L
azy Diamond running. But I’ll have to go to California. So now you just leap back over those conclusions you’ve been jumping to, mister!”
“What job?” he growled suspiciously. “For whom? Doing what?”
“Preliminary art design for a new movie. It’s a fabulous opportunity for me professionally. The backers were especially insistent that I come aboard, which is very flattering, and the fee my agent has arranged—” Referring to the letter, she named a figure that still amazed her, a sum that could mean all the difference to the Lazy Diamond. “So you see, it’s a godsend. A proverbial gift horse.”
“What’s this horse’s name?”
She swallowed, for this was the difficult part. “Uh, it’s Jackson, Sam.”
“Jackson Dial? As in your former significant other? And I’m supposed to go for this idea?” He threw his hands up. “You’re crazy. And so is he. Forget it. No way. End of discussion.”
“You’re being totally unreasonable.”
“If you think I’ll let my wife run back to her old lover—”
“Jackson doesn’t mean a thing to me anymore, and you know it!” she shouted, infuriated. She shook the letter at him. “Look, this is a way out for us, that’s all.”
Sam snatched the paper and ripped it in half, letting the pieces fall to the kitchen tiles. “By God, I can take care of my own without Jackson Dial’s charity.”
“It is not charity,” she replied indignantly. “I’m good at what I do, and I earn my fee and then some. And for your information, Jackson isn’t exactly thrilled at the situation, either, but Apache Tears is winning all kinds of artistic awards and his financiers are insisting I do the work again.”
“How very convenient,” he said with a sneer.
“He’s begging me, Sam, and he’s so desperate, he’s willing to come up to scratch with the money for the first time.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “After all the years I wasted on him, having the shoe on the other foot is very sweet.”
The Rancher and the Redhead Page 13