The Bull Rider’s Keeper

by Lynn Cahoon

  When she finished her dinner, Jesse and Angie were gone from the dining room. Maybe Angie had changed her mind and told her youngest son about the cancer. Jesse would be a rock for her. She just hoped Angie’s way would be lit brightly, and she’d come through the other side healthy and cured.

  She picked up her purse and threw a couple twenties down for the waitress.

  Mike picked the money up and pushed it back into her hand. “I’ll bill the office. I was going to talk business tonight, but I think it should wait until tomorrow. I’ll stop by the gallery late morning.”

  Taylor nodded. “I’ll be there.” She excused herself and turned toward the restroom.

  When she returned to the dining room, Mike was gone and the table had already been cleared. She checked her watch and pulled her tote closer. She had five minutes to walk to class and get changed. The way her stomach was rolling, she probably should just skip tonight.

  She was still arguing with herself when she saw Jesse leaning against his truck, watching her. Determined, she squared her shoulders, unwilling to go on the defensive. If he wanted to fight, they’d do it on her terms. She pointed a finger at him. “What did you think you were doing in there? Mike is my lawyer, nothing more. And your fight is with me, not him.”

  “I beg to differ. His name is on the letter.” Jesse tipped his hat further back on his head. “He’s just as much to blame as you are. Although, I think you’re cold-hearted, from what Angie told me.”

  “I am not cold-hearted,” she said, angrily, before his words sunk in. “Wait, what are you talking about? What’s Angie got to do with this?”

  He stood up straight, fury burning his cheeks a flame red. And heaven help her, she wanted him. Hot and angry, the boy was as sexy as he had been when he’d looked at her with lust. Or love. Her brain changed the descriptor without her permission. She took a step forward, but caught herself before she’d gone running into his arms.

  He reached into the cab of the truck and grabbed a piece of paper. “Don’t play dumb-blond with me.” Jesse crumbled the page in his hand. “Are you really that heartless?”

  “What’s that?” Taylor tried to see what was written on the page, but Jesse wouldn’t hold still.

  “It’s the letter you had your henchman send to my mom. What did that cost you? Dinner and some extracurricular activities later tonight?” His gaze flowed up and down her body. “I guess you’re good enough to sell it.”

  Any touch of positive emotion she’d felt at seeing Jesse escaped her as his words hit her like a sucker punch. “You are nuts. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t care.”

  “Of course not. You’re punishing Mom for what went on this weekend. Hell, I would have sworn you were having fun, too.” Jesse didn’t meet her eyes. “At least, until I woke up alone in that hotel room with no note, no goodbye. You could have left some money on the table, and at least I would have understood. Or was this all payback from Ontario?”

  “I …” Taylor paused. What could she say? I did enjoy myself? I fell in love, so I ran? You’re too good for me? No, there wasn’t anything she could say to redeem her actions that night. She had decided their fate the minute she’d run. “I really don’t know why you’re so upset about this. I had to catch an early flight back. Gallery business.”

  This time, Jesse looked at her. She felt his eyes burning into her soul, and she almost cringed as she realized he knew the lie. “I called Brit on Sunday. She didn’t know where you were. Unless your gallery business involved spending some one-on-one time with Mikey.”

  “It’s not any of your business who I spend time with.” She regretted the words as soon as she said them. Jesse nodded, knowingly. Why wasn’t she just telling him she was confused, that she hid from everyone at the spa? Then the reason hit her: she didn’t want to appear weak. She didn’t want him to know that she needed him. She’d been strong and independent her entire life. Like Angie. Leaning on a man, especially one like Jesse, just wasn’t in the cards for her. She didn’t want to give in to anyone.

  “Bingo.” Jesse crumpled the paper in his hand tighter. “I should have seen that coming. Girls like you don’t fall for bull riders. They like their men more metrosexual. They like doctors and … lawyers.” The word spit out of him like a cuss word.

  Taylor bit her lip. “Look, we had fun. Can’t we leave it at that?”

  For a minute, she thought he was going to try to convince her it wasn’t just fun. He took a half step forward, then sighed and climbed into his truck. “Fair warning, I’m going to destroy you. After we sign the contract for the gallery, you’re out of a job. I’m going to tell every gallery owner in the area how you treat employees. They may hire you, or not. Of course, you always have Mike to take you in.”

  “Go to hell, Jesse Sullivan.”

  He started the truck and tipped his hat. “Not a problem.”

  She stared after him as he gunned the truck and sped down the street. She yelled after him. “I hope you get a ticket.”

  A man walking by on the sidewalk chuckled.

  Taylor turned and stared, hoping to make him at least turn his head away from her.

  “Lovers’ quarrels are the best. Makes making up all the sweeter.” He squeezed the hand of a lady walking next to him. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

  She didn’t wait for the woman’s answer; instead, she turned away from the direction of the gym where she had class. She didn’t want to go home and run into her parents. She didn’t want to just drive. She wanted a drink.

  Taylor took her cell out of her purse and punched Brit’s number. When the call was answered, she didn’t wait for a greeting. “You still got a bottle of tequila at your place?”

  • • •

  Jesse drove on autopilot up to the ranch above Boise. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to turn the world back three years, to before Angie had come into their lives. Knowing you might have a mom somewhere out there who didn’t give a crap was much better than knowing she might be dying of cancer. And now, he’d broken up with Taylor too.

  Man, how could he have read her so wrong? Usually, he had a knack for picking out the mean girls. The ones who liked the game more than being in love. He’d played with a few before, but he’d never given away his heart to that type. Until now.

  Angie’s leaving when he and James were kids had taught him one thing. Girls never stay. He’d fooled himself into thinking that Taylor was different. She’d had a normal childhood, a cool mom, but deep down, women were all the same. They were always looking for the best option for their future husband. Hell, she probably had used sex just to get close to him and keep track of information on the gallery sale. If she thought she’d keep her job now, she was a bigger fool than he’d ever been.

  He sped the truck a little too fast on the winding road up the mountain, fishtailing on a corner. Thank God, no vehicle was coming down the road around that corner. He took a breath and slowed the truck. No use driving into the river running next to the road just because of a girl. He’d get over this one.

  Idiot. He should have seen this coming. He thought of the portrait of her in his studio downtown. The soft curves of her body and the sparkle in her eyes, as if she had a secret. A freaking Mona Lisa smile.

  He parked the truck in front of the ranch house next to Angie’s BMW. He should have known she’d head up here once he sent her home from the restaurant. He slammed the truck door and stomped into the house. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sit down and have a drink.” Angie sat in the living room in front of the lit fireplace. Even though it was still warm outside, the cabin felt welcoming, not stifling.

  “I don’t want to talk,” Jesse said as he grabbed a beer out of the silver bucket filled with ice and longnecks.

  Angie stared into the fire. “Me neither.”

  He slipped into the leather recliner next to the sofa. After a few minutes, he said, “You’re going to be fine. And you’re go
ing back to work as soon as the gallery deal is done. In the meantime, we’ll figure something out.”

  Angie nodded distractedly. “You know, I did love your father. I wish I’d been smarter back then. I had everything I ever needed in that little cabin.”

  “Can’t change the past,” Jesse said, even though, on the drive here, that had been exactly what was on his mind. Changing his past, so this present would have never happened.

  “Your father used to set a fire once a week just so we could sit together and talk.” Angie smiled. “When you boys got old enough, we’d make hot dogs for dinner those nights, and roast marshmallows later.”

  “I remember. James always said I was going to burn my marshmallow holding it too close to the flame.” Jesse smiled at the memory.

  “And he was right, you always did. Then James would give you his when you cried. That boy was Mr. Responsibility from day one.”

  “He took care of me for years. Years longer than I should have let him.” Jesse took a swig of his beer. “I almost messed up him and Lizzie.”

  “True love always wins, no matter what the obstacles.” Angie sat her drink down and stared at him. “Speaking of, you’re in love with that girl.”

  Jesse shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not in love with me.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Angie’s voice was soft.

  Jesse thought about the fight less than an hour ago. “When she told me to go to hell, I think she was pretty sure about her feelings.”

  A soft laugh came from his mother. “Oh, honey, that just tells you how deep her emotions run. I’d be more worried if she’d just said goodbye without any heat. Anger requires deep passion.”

  Jesse sipped his beer, thinking about his mother’s words. “Then the girl must be head over heels for me, because I’ve never seen her that mad.” His lips curve into a small smile. “But it doesn’t matter. She burned you. That’s reason enough to end the relationship, for me.”

  “Don’t use me as an excuse, Jesse Sullivan. You’ve been running from love your entire life. I’m not a fool. I know why.” Angie sighed. “It was me. Maybe that’s why I’m sick: paying for my past transgressions. You think that’s what causes cancers? Little bits of life where you make the wrong decision, and the regrets fester into cancer years later?”

  Jesse stood from his chair and went to sit by Angie. He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. “No, nothing you did caused this.” He paused. “Except, maybe, the booze and cigarettes. You giving up smoking?”

  He felt her sigh. “I’ve got the patch on now. I started a week ago, right after I saw the doctor.”

  “Good girl.”

  Angie sat up and took a sip of her drink. “The doctor said to stop drinking too, but one fight at a time, right?”

  He smiled. “You can do anything.”

  “It’s not fair that the one time I really need a cigarette, I can’t have one.” Angie stared into the fire. “Life sure throws you some curveballs at times.”

  That it does. He wondered how pissed she was going to be when the family posse showed up tomorrow. Of course, she’d get over it. Eventually. For once in their lives, they were going to stand together in the bad times. No more lying or running away. Watch out, cancer, he thought as he watched his mother in the firelight. We’re coming after you, and Sullivans always win.

  Chapter 14

  Lizzie and Barb had started cooking a late breakfast when Angie walked through the door wrapped in a pink fluffy robe and feather slippers. At first, her face lit up and she glanced around the room. “What’s going on? Did you bring the kids with you?”

  When everyone looked at Jesse, realization hit Angie, and her lips tightened.

  “Angie, it’s time to talk.” Jesse stood up and kissed her on one cheek, handing her a cup of coffee.

  She turned on him, her eyes wide with anger. In a low voice she said, “I told you not to mention this.”

  He led her to the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down. We have some things to discuss.”

  She sat and glanced around the room. She smoothed hair with her hands when she saw George Baxter, the family lawyer, sitting next to James. “You might have warned me to dress up before meeting you all like this.”

  James laughed. “You look fine.” He reached over and covered her hand with his own. “I’m sorry about this.”

  Jesse could see the tears fill Angie’s eyes as she nodded. Damn, she was trying to be cool, but he knew their concern touched her. “First things, first. We need to make a schedule." He tapped a notebook and a calendar. When’s your next doctor appointment?”

  “Wednesday, with the surgeon, but …” Angie was cut off by Barb.

  “I’ll take that appointment and talk to that doctor to get an idea of what’s coming next.” Barb tapped the appointment into her phone. “What time should I pick you up?”

  “I really don’t need help.” Angie shook her head and scowled at Jesse. “This is why I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  The gathering around the table glanced at James. “Mom, you’re not a bother. We’re family and we’re going to fight this together. Don’t start pointing your finger at me. I’m not calling you Angie anymore. You’re my mother. Get used to it.”

  Angie wiped the tears from her eyes. “Okay, then. I never could talk you boys out of something once you got your minds made up.”

  “So what time do I pick you up?” Barb asked.

  They discussed what the doctors had already told Angie, and filled their calendars with appointments and meetings. Lizzie and James decided to move down from the mountain back into the ranch house.

  “I’m not sure you’ll be getting much rest once the twins and JR arrive. Those boys love their grandma.” Lizzie smiled as she put a basket of cinnamon rolls on the table.

  “I think they’ll be exactly what I need during my bad days.” Angie took a roll and broke it apart. “So are we done beating this thing to death?”

  “One more problem: your health insurance from the gallery.” George looked grim. “I’m not sure what I can do now, but as soon as Jesse signs the purchase contract we’ll get you back on the policy. Good news is that the insurance company cannot reject you on a pre-existing clause anymore. Can you delay the surgery until the sale is finalized?”

  “No.” James’s answer came first. “We’ll hire her on at the agency and get her coverage today.” He glanced at Barb. “We can do that, right?”

  She shook her head. “Even if we hire her, there’s a ninety day waiting period on our policy. That’s why I keep the riders on the insurance year-round instead of just during the rodeo season. It costs us more, but the guys are protected.”

  George looked at Jesse. “I’ll go talk to this Taylor girl and see if we can get her to change her mind. The sale will be finalized in the next thirty days or so. Typically, management doesn’t make big changes while things like this are pending. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

  Everyone’s gaze fell on Jesse. The room went silent as he struggled with the decision. Finally, he put Angie’s needs in front of his own anger. What harm could it do to see Taylor again? “I’ll go with you.”

  • • •

  Taylor’s head pounded. She couldn’t believe she was even walking, considering the number of shots she’d pounded back last night. Salt, tequila, lemon, shudder. Rinse and repeat. At least she’d stopped crying about the fight with Jesse. Until she was truly good and drunk—then the blues hit harder than she’d ever felt them before. She needed to change her coping mechanisms, or she’d find herself in an intervention meeting faster than her folks could say, “move out of our house.”

  She pulled out the file with the condo information. She’d planned on buying the place next year by using her savings and income from the gallery. With the gallery being sold, and her job no longer secure, she wondered if she should shelve the idea in case the next step in her career wasn’t here i
n Boise. All because she’d clung to some desperate idea that she had to uphold the family name. She touched the pictures of the model kitchen. Granite counter tops, walnut cupboards, and, more important, a gas stove. She could see herself living there, making pastas and pastries. Making breakfast when Jesse stayed over, his arms surrounding her, kissing her neck as she took the omelet makings out of the stainless steel refrigerator. She shook away the fantasy. She’d shut that door when she’d left Wyoming, doing her cross-state walk of shame.

  Frowning, she replayed the argument back in her mind. Jesse had been mad about her being out with Mike. As if there was something going on there—ha. But he’d said something else, too. He’d said that she’d hurt Angie. Maybe Jesse had found out about Angie’s health condition and blamed Taylor for not telling him first.

  That didn’t sound right. Jesse was mad about a letter. She could see the crumpled paper in his hand as he railed last night.

  Taylor buzzed Brit, who was watching the front desk.

  “Hey, you feeling better? Want some more coffee?” Brit sounded fine. Like she hadn’t matched Taylor shot-for-shot last night. Taylor hated her for it, but only just a bit.

  “Coffee would be good,” she said. “Hey, is Angie in yet?”

  There was a pause. “I’ll bring a cup in. And no, she hasn’t shown. Do you want me to call her?”

  “No.” Taylor opened her computer, looking for Angie’s cell number. She dialed the number and got her voicemail. When Angie’s prerecorded message ended, she left a brief message. “Call me. It’s Taylor.”

  As Brit came into the room, she nodded to the phone. “Didn’t reach her?”

  “She said something yesterday about needing some time off. Maybe I didn’t write down the dates right.” Taylor sipped the black liquid like it was a healing potion.

  Brit slipped into one of the guest chairs. “I was going to ask you what you guys were talking about. You were in here a long time. Mike stopped by and waited for a while, but then he took out of here like a shot.”