The Bull Rider’s Keeper

by Lynn Cahoon

  “That’s the problem—I never even saw that coming with Mike. Brit told me he had a thing for me for years, but I always thought we were just friends.” Taylor swung her tote bag on her shoulder. “Anyway, I’m heading out to grab a long lunch and maybe even a glass of wine before I come back and tackle the rest of those contract reviews. I have my cell if you need me.”

  “Take your time. We’ll be fine. Brit just left to grab a pizza for us, and she’s going to teach me how to set up a display.” Angie beamed. “She says I have a knack for visual placement.”

  “You’ll be running the place before Jesse knows it.” Taylor cringed at the words. She could see the family involved in the gallery. Picking artists and giving their own twist on the art world, just like she and her grandfather had done when she started working with him. Grief stabbed at her heart. For a minute, she wasn’t sure if the pain was caused by losing her grandfather, the gallery, or her connection with Jesse and his family.

  “He cares about you,” Angie said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Taylor smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve closed that door. However, I know he cares about you. You told them about the cancer, didn’t you?”

  “I told Jesse when I got that lawyer letter. Then he brought in the entire group. I swear, that boy can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

  “You’ll appreciate the support later. Don’t be so stubborn—it’s nice to have family.” Taylor paused at the door. “But, if you ever need something, you know you can call me too.”

  Angie nodded, then waved Taylor out the door. “Go to lunch. We can sing ‘Kumbaya’ and roast marshmallows when you get back.”

  Taylor left the gallery, and as she walked past the large picture windows she saw Angie pick up the phone.

  • • •

  An hour later, filled with seafood, pasta, garlic bread, and not one, but two glasses of wine, Taylor strolled back to the gallery. She’d stopped in a dress shop and picked up a new purse that she had seen in the window as she passed the storefront. She patted the new bag on her shoulder as she walked. Impulse purchase or not, it represented her new life. The canvas tote was huge with hand-painted purple pansies strung across the outside. She’d been able to stuff her old bag inside with no problem. Time to take care of Taylor. She might even take the rest of the afternoon off and go walk through the art museum.

  Taylor swung open the door to the gallery, deciding to do just that. She’d take a cab down to the museum and walk away this pleasant buzz she felt.

  “Angie? Brit?” No one was at the front desk. Odd, but Angie had mentioned they were working on a display. She dumped her bag behind the counter and headed toward the first display room. Empty. Frowning, she stepped farther into the gallery. Her stomach clenched and the pleasant buzz in her head disappeared fast. Something felt wrong.

  Entering the last display room, she saw the picture. The room had been draped in all black, letting a single light shine on the painting. A painting of her.

  Taylor walked up to the easel and studied the lines. The way her smile teased and her eyes in the portrait danced, she almost looked like a Renaissance model. She half expected to find fat cherubs circling her nearly naked form. Instead, the rest of the picture was set in a bed. Sheets tangled, keeping her modest, but hinting at a perfect body that she knew didn’t quite match her own.

  “Do you like it?”

  The question came from behind her. Jesse. She didn’t turn when she answered. “You did this? How?”

  “From your sitting at your mom’s class. Of course, I played with the surroundings a bit.” Jesse’s voice sounded closer now. She could almost feel his hand on her back, supporting her.

  “Typically, it takes several sittings to finish a portrait like this. You did it from just one?” She turned, challenging him. If she’d found out he’d taken pictures of her when she was asleep, she was going to kill him.

  “The rest was from memory. Believe me, you’re hard to get out of my thoughts.” Jesse took her hand. “I need to ask you something.”

  She wanted to pull away. She felt a jolt of energy run through her body as he held her hand. Something so simple shouldn’t feel so sexual. Shouldn’t make her want to kiss him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about. I’m getting the office ready for the transition. You should be able to work directly with Brit on any questions you have.”

  “You didn’t read the proposal George drafted.” Jesse stepped closer.

  Taylor shrugged. “No need. Angie shouldn’t have been fired. It was a mistake, and one I’ve corrected, so you didn’t need to convince me to keep her on.”

  Jesse stared at her hand and the look made her shiver. “I didn’t just want Angie to stay on. The papers said you’d stay on as manager after the sale.”

  Taylor sighed. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not? We make a good team—as long as we’re completely honest with each other.”

  Taylor laughed. “When have we been honest? We always seem to be doing this dance. If I’m chasing, you’re running. And if you chase . . . ”

  “You run. I get it. You need more of a commitment.”

  “Like a painting of me in your bed.” Taylor turned back to the painting. It was hauntingly beautiful, not because she was beautiful, but because the artist had painted her that way.

  “I never said it was my bed. But no, that isn’t what I’m talking about.” Jesse paused. “I know I’m not in your league. But I’m going to take a chance here. If you say no, I’ll quit bothering you. You can stay on as manager, or not, it’s your choice.”

  “So you’re asking me to keep running the gallery?” Taylor kept her voice steady, even though she wanted to scream, or turn and kiss the heck out of the man next to her. How could he mess with her feelings so much? No one ever got her this worked up. No one, except Jesse.

  “No. I mean, yes, but that’s not my question.” He took her shoulders and spun her around to face him. As she searched his eyes, he kneeled before her.

  This can’t be happening, she thought. No way. I’m misunderstanding the action. As she watched, Jesse pulled a ring out of his shirt pocket.

  He held the diamond up to her. “Taylor DeMarco, will you marry me?”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Taylor stared at the perfect marquise-cut diamond in a platinum setting. It couldn’t have been more perfect if she’d chosen the ring herself. Brit had to have had a hand in this decision. Her mind raced. Marry Jesse. She glanced at the painting.

  Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Probably. I can’t sleep, food tastes like sawdust, and all I’ve been able to focus on for weeks is that painting. So, insanity is an option. Is that a no? I’m feeling a little foolish down here on one knee, especially if you’re going to blow me off.” Jesse rubbed his thumb over the top of her knuckles. “Think about it. We’re good together.”

  “When we’re not trying to kill each other.” Taylor’s heart was going to beat out of her chest. So this was what it felt like. She felt scared, disoriented, and ecstatic, all at the same time.

  “Life will never be dull. We have passion.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without you. When we met, something in me awoke, like I’d been asleep for a really long time. And honestly, that scared me. You weren’t a one-night stand.”

  “Two.” Taylor reminded him.

  “Fine, two-night stand. Stop interrupting me, woman, I’m trying to make a point.”

  “Yes, sir,” Taylor said, stifling a laugh.

  “Anyway, you scared the crap out of me. I know love doesn’t come to everyone. I’m not stupid enough to throw it away when it does. Someone once told me to marry the person I can’t live without. That’s you.”

  “I think it’s from a movie. Don’t marry the person you can live with, but the one you can’t live without.” Taylor broke her gaze away from Jesse and looked at the picture. “Do you really see me
like that?”

  Jesse swore under his breath. “No, I couldn’t get the right look. You’re so much more beautiful than I could hope to draw.”

  She turned back, her free hand waving at the portrait. “Oh, Jesse, I could never be this beautiful.”

  This time he stood and pulled her into his arms. “To me, you are.” He then captured her lips in a deep, slow kiss.. A kiss that was more of a promise than a desire. When he stopped, he stared into her eyes, pausing just a moment before asking, “Will you marry me?”

  She took the ring away from him. “I just bought a ticket to Paris for next month.”

  “So that’s a no?” Pain flitted across Jesse’s face.

  Taylor shook her head and slipped the diamond on her left ring finger. “That’s a yes, but my ticket better be refundable.”

  This time when he kissed her, she felt the room moving under them. “I’ll eat the cost if it isn’t.”

  Chapter 16

  The first weekend in May was unseasonably warm that year. Lizzie and James had pushed off the seasonal opening of Hudson’s Spa, the rural bed and breakfast retreat they ran, for a week, letting the family take over the four cabins surrounding their home. James had been busy remodeling the big house to add more bedrooms. The twins were getting kicked out of the nursery to make room for a new arrival coming that fall.

  “I swear, you’re carrying a girl,” Angie said, patting Lizzie’s stomach. They sat around a picnic table out in the large backyard, enjoying the spring sunshine next to the riverbank. Angie’s hair was spiky, short, and gray—a look she’d sported after being able to give up her scarf collection. She donated all the scarves to a cancer support group for newly diagnosed members. “You’re carrying her totally differently than you did the boys.”

  “That’s because there’s just one growing in there.” Lizzie laughed. “Not that we don’t want a girl, I just don’t want to jinx it.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Barb said. “I never thought raising a girl would be the challenge Kadi’s putting us through. Did you know she wants her ears pierced? Apparently she’s the only child in her class that can’t wear earrings. And don’t get me started on the makeup argument.” Barb leaned over and touched her newborn son’s foot sticking out of the blanket covering the car seat. “Grey won’t give us half the trouble Kadi does.”

  “Don’t count on it. Boys are different.” Angie sipped on her iced tea. “I’ll take her next weekend and get her ears pierced. You should have told me—I would have done it last month when we went clothes shopping.”

  “Hunter would have a cow if she came home with studs in her ears.” Barb dipped a chip into the homemade salsa. “Let’s just give him some time to adjust to the pre-teen years, okay?”

  “I just don’t see the problem. Let the girl live. She’s already had a taste of how unfair and short life can be. Losing her folks that young could have made her a basket case instead of turning into a horse nut.” Angie ran her hand through her hair. “Take it from someone who knows.”

  “Believe me, I realize that every day.” Barb unhooked Grey from his carrier and sat the boy on her lap, kissing his bald head.

  Angie glanced around the gathering, “Angelic was spot on with her prediction.”

  Lizzie frowned. “What prediction?”

  “She said if Jesse bought the gallery, change would happen.” Angie waved her hands indicating the yard. “And look at all the changes.”

  “It’s called life, Angie. Life happened, not a fortuneteller’s prediction.” Barb held her palm flat for Grey to explore with his tiny fingers.

  Angie sniffed. “Whatever you want to believe. I just know the woman is a godsend with her counsel.”

  The women wore sundresses, shorts, and sandals for the parade. They waited for the boys to get ready to go. JR and James had gone ahead with the horse trailer, as they were riding as part of JR’s horse club. The twins ran around the edges of the yard playing chase with Kadi, who looked more like the child she was than the teenager she’d soon be. Hunter sat alone near the river, watching the water sparkle over the rocks.

  Only two people were missing. Jesse and Taylor.

  • • •

  “I should wear the suit.” Jesse reached for the black suit lying out on the bed. Taylor slapped his hand.

  “You look great.” She smoothed his button-down shirt, flipping his too-long hair over the shirt collar. “A suit is overkill. You wanted to have your first show here as part of Shawnee Rodeo Weekend. Now you have to dress like a cowboy, or all the critics will be disappointed.”

  “I wanted to get away from the bull rider stigma. What was I thinking?” He sank onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

  Taylor sat next to him. “Your show is going to be amazing. I’ve already heard from six of the major art sites. They have people here from Boise just for today’s opening. Bull riding is what you did, not who you are.”

  “Tell that to Angie. I swear, she was showing everyone who walked into the studio last week photos from the championship last winter.” He took her hand. “You really think they’ll like the show?”

  “You’re a talented artist. Why do you think DeMarco Gallery is sponsoring your show?” She kissed his cheek.

  “Because I own the gallery?” He smiled. “I hear the tribe getting anxious out there. We better make our appearance.”

  She stood and put her hand on his chest. “I love you, Jesse Sullivan.”

  He kissed her, slowly and sweetly]. “I love you, Taylor DeMarco Sullivan.”

  He went to step away but she held him.

  “Seriously, they’ll come looking for us in about three minutes. Lizzie won’t miss JR riding in the parade.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t have time to ravage you on the bed, or in the hot tub.”

  “In your dreams.” Taylor bit her lip. “I just wanted to tell you one thing before we met up with your family. Something you should know. Although, I’m not sure how happy you’re going to be.”

  “Oh God, you’ve already heard from the critics. They hate the show. They hate me.” Jesse searched her face. “Wait, you look happy. They liked me?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “What I need to tell you, before we go meet with your family, is that we have a family right here. In this room.”

  Jesse laughed. “Oh, honey, I know. You’re my family now. It’s just, the Sullivans are pretty in-your-face close, especially when we all get together. You’ll get used to it.”

  She held him tight as he tried to step away. “Listen to me. We’re a family. You, me, and …” Taylor let her gaze drop down to her stomach. “Lizzie’s not the only one expecting a new arrival.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant? What, when?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure it happened on our trip to Sun Valley a few months ago. I thought I was just busy, that I had forgotten. But when I started feeling sick, Brit took me to the doctor last week. We’re having a baby.”

  Jesse picked her up and swung her around the cabin bedroom. “A baby.”

  As they walked out to the backyard to tell the family about their newest addition, Taylor felt tears fill her eyes. She saw the picture take shape in front of her. Their life had become a painting Norman Rockwell could have done; one called A Summer Gathering. Family. Messy, crazy, and most of all, loving. Her family now.

  She was a Sullivan.

  About the Author

  Lynn Cahoon’s a multi-published author. An Idaho native, her stories focus around the depth and experience of small town life and love. Lynn is published in the Chicken Soup anthologies, has explored controversial stories for the confessional magazines, has short stories in Women’s World, and contemporary romantic fiction. Currently, she’s living in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. She lives with her husband and four fur babies. She can be found at her website.

  More from This Author

&nbs
p; (From The Bull Rider’s Manager by Lynn Cahoon)

  If flying was hell, waiting to fly was purgatory. Their plane should have taken off an hour ago. And even though they were on hold, Jesse Sullivan still hadn’t graced the airport with his presence. Barb dialed Jesse’s cell again and immediately got his answering message. “Damn, Jesse — where are you?”

  “No luck?” Hunter Martin, prodigal son of Martin Dairy Empires — and potential sponsor for her perpetually late client — opened his blue eyes and looked at her.

  Barb had thought the man had been asleep when she’d pulled out the cell one more time. She pasted on a smile she didn’t feel. “Just his voice mail. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic?”

  Hunter raised his eyebrows. “In Boise?”

  “It happens,” Barb shot back. “He’s been staying at his brother’s spread up near Lucky Peak so maybe a logging truck accident slowed him down.”

  Hunter shook his head. “Really?”

  “It could happen. Those trucks fly on those narrow roads.” Barb sighed. “I think you’re stuck with me for the flight. I don’t think Jesse will make it.”

  “I’m not going to complain.” Hunter’s smile was slow and sexy. He closed his eyes again. “Shake me if they announce our flight. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Barb smiled. I bet you didn’t. Hunter Martin was known in Boise social circles as a player. Or at least he had been. All Barb really knew about the thirty-two-year old bachelor was that he liked the Country Star bar — well known for its line dancing classes and generous beer prices — better than the upscale places downtown. She’d seen him at Country Star a few years ago and man, the boy could swing. In all her years around the rodeo, Barb had never been able to relax enough to let her partner lead her around the dance floor. But she felt the music, even if her dancing would put her on a reality show for the Worst Dancers in America.

  Rumor had it that Mr. Martin must be involved because he’d been absent from his usual bar stool for months. Barb snuck a glance at his left hand. No ring yet. Although that didn’t mean anything. He still could be engaged.