Lara had grown up in this house. It had been built in the 1930s, and even with remodeling and updates, some things never changed, like noisy plumbing and handcrafted charm. When she was a kid, Lara’s grandparents and Aunt Eileen lived up here, but since then, Gramps had gone to be with the Lord, and Eileen had moved to Colorado where she remained happily unmarried and now taught high school science. Over the past few years, Gram’s health declined, so Lara volunteered to move in with her. The elderly woman enjoyed the company, and Lara liked caring for her, the little bit that she did. Gram was still quite self-sufficient for the most part.
After washing up, Lara padded to her bedroom. Gram had insisted she take the master bedroom when she moved in, and seeing it would do no good to argue, Lara agreed. She painted and wallpapered to make the room feel like her own. In fact, the entire flat was beginning to look like “her own,” but Gram adored the changes.
Once she’d dressed in jeans and a blue-and-red striped T-shirt, Lara gathered her light brown hair, with its blond highlights, and clipped it up at the back of her head. Snatching her purse off the desk in the living room, she called a goodbye to Gram and left. As she passed the downstairs unit, Lara opened the backdoor and hollered a greeting.
“Anybody need anything while I’m out?”
“Don’t think so,” her father answered from the direction of the living room.
Lara continued on her way out. Behind the off-white vinyl-sided house with its burgundy shutters and next to the garage, her father had erected a carport under which Lara and Tim parked their vehicles. Unlocking the door of her teal compact car, Lara climbed in and started the engine. Next, she backed into the alley, deciding her first stop would be the hospital. Lara hoped she’d find Kevin’s friends there so she wouldn’t have to search for them at a crowded rodeo.
When she arrived at County General, Lara was unprepared for the sight that met her in the spacious lobby. Television crews and cameras filled the area, and several feet away, Lara recognized the Director of Public Relations talking to media personnel.
She took cautious steps forward, wondering what was going on. Then someone caught her elbow, and Lara whirled around to face a man about fifty years of age with a stocky build, graying brown hair, and a suntanned face.
“You don’t recognize me without my makeup, do you?” He laughed. “I’m Quincy Owens, otherwise known as ‘Quincy the Clown.’?”
Lara blinked until finally the realization struck. “Oh. . .from yesterday. Kevin’s friend.”
“That’s right.” Quincy smiled then nodded toward the reporters. “This here’s the press conference Mac arranged right after Wink went into surgery. She’s determined to make him famous one way or another.”
“Oh. . .so that’s what’s going on here.”
“Yep. We’re all gettin’ updated on Wink’s condition. The doctors say he’s going to be okay, even though he’s in a coma right now.”
Lara noticed the worry lines that formed on Quincy’s forehead.
“I sure hope he’s okay. . .”
“I hope so too.” Lara opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. From it, she extracted Kevin’s driver’s license. “I need to return this.” She handed the plastic card to Quincy. “The registrar in the emergency department gave it to me yesterday, and somehow I never gave it back. I apologize.”
After giving the ID a quick glance, Quincy handed it right back. “Maybe you oughta keep it till Wink wakes up. See, the rodeo is over after tomorrow. We’re all pulling up stakes and heading out. Wink’ll have to catch up with us when he’s better.”
“What about his sponsor. . .Mac?”
The large man shrugged. “She might stick around. Her daddy’s company has a lot of dough riding on Wink. . .pardon the pun.”
“I see. . .”
“You can give the license to Mac, if you want, although she’s not the most responsible person in the world.”
Lara slipped the driver’s license back into her purse. “I’ll find out where Wink. . .I mean, Kevin’s belongings are. Security will know. I’ll be sure to add his license to his other things.”
“Sounds good.”
After a hesitant look, she decided to forge on. “I never got a chance to tell you and the others that Kevin and I grew up in the same neighborhood right here in Milwaukee—Wauwatosa, actually. Our part of town borders Waukesha County.”
Quincy brought his chin back. “I never knew Kevin was from around here.” He turned. “Did you know that, Brent?”
“What?”
Several feet away, another man pivoted and looked their way. Lara recognized him as the ruggedly handsome cowboy who had asked for her business card.
“Woman here says she grew up with Wink. I didn’t know he hailed from Wisconsin, did you?”
The man called Brent sauntered over. He gave Lara an appraising glance from head to toe before meeting her gaze. A blush warmed her face.
“Yeah, I knew Wink was from Wisconsin. Didn’t realize it was this particular area, though.” He tore his stare from hers and looked at Quincy. “But if she says he is, I imagine it’s true.”
Lara felt oddly flattered that Brent would give her the benefit of the doubt.
“I can’t imagine there’s more than one Kevin Wincouser in the world,” Lara added, “at least not one who’s twenty-nine years old and in the rodeo.”
“Heaven help us if there is,” Brent quipped with a slight grin.
Quincy chuckled.
Pulling something from the breast pocket of his plaid shirt, he offered it to Lara. An instant later, she realized he’d handed her two tickets.
“Bull-riding competition is tonight. Want to come watch?”
“Um. . .”
“Bring a friend.”
Lara glanced at the thick blue tickets before looking back at Brent. She couldn’t think of any other commitments she had this evening.
“You do have a friend, don’t you?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. . .” She shot him an exasperated frown. “Of course I have a friend.”
Brent shifted his weight. “Just one? Or do you need more tickets?”
Lara smirked. She was beginning to understand the man’s sarcastic wit. “My brother and his fiancée might like to come.”
Brent pulled out two more tickets from his shirt pocket.
“My sister, her husband, and their three kids—”
“I said ‘friends,’ not your entire relation.”
Lara laughed. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Four tickets are plenty. Thanks.”
Quincy stood by chuckling. “And notice she didn’t even mention a husband, Brent.”
“I noticed.”
A twinkle entered his brown eyes, and Lara could feel another blush burn into her cheekbones. She had a feeling Brent probably charmed the ladies from coast to coast. But he certainly seemed nice enough.
“Well, thanks for the tickets.”
“Don’t let ‘em go to waste, now,” Quincy the Clown said with a grin.
“I won’t. I promise.”
With a smile, Lara walked past the men and into the throng of media people. The press conference had just finished, and Lara realized, much to her disappointment, she would now have to wait until the evening news to hear what was said publicly about Kevin Wincouser’s medical condition.
Four
“Do I look okay to go to the rodeo?”
Standing in her bedroom, Lara scrutinized Polly’s outfit, faded jeans and a red sweater. “You look fine. It’s not like the rodeo is a black-tie affair or something.”
“I know, but. . .” She pushed out a pretty pout. “I don’t even own a pair of boots. I’m wearing athletic shoes. Some cowgirl I am.”
Lara laughed. “Don’t worry about it. There’ll be
plenty of folks in athletic shoes tonight. You’ll see.”
“Well, you look like a cowgirl.”
Lara turned to gaze at herself in the full-length mirror attached to the closet door. She’d chosen a blue plaid, lightweight, long-sleeved shirt and a newer pair of denim jeans. But unlike Polly, Lara had boots.
“I’m feeling out of sorts here,” her friend confessed.
“Want to change?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Yes!”
Grinning, Lara swung open her closet door and helped Polly select a soft chambray shirt. Lara found an old pair of brown boots that had obviously seen better days, but Polly accepted the offer to wear them despite the leather’s many scuffs and scrapes.
“Now, I feel like I’m dressed for the rodeo,” Polly declared, admiring her outfit in the mirror. “Yee-ha! Let’s go.”
Laughing, the girls walked down the hallway, heading for the back door. Lara called a farewell to her grandmother who sat in the living room watching reruns of The Lawrence Welk Show.
Outside, the setting sun cast golden hues against the cloudless evening sky. Lara decided to drive, so they walked to her car and climbed in.
“So this Brent is really a hunk, eh?” Polly asked, snapping her seatbelt into place.
“I don’t believe I ever used the word hunk.” Lara grinned and backed out of the carport, then drove down the alley. “But he is quite the charmer.”
“Aren’t all cowboys charming? I mean, when I think cowboys I think of that cute actor in that recent Western. . . . What’s his name?”
“I can’t remember his name, but I know which one you’re talking about, and Brent strikes me the same way. Hollywood handsome. But he’s almost too charming for his own good.”
“Well, you know, looks can be deceiving. Maybe the guy is really an upstanding Christian who adheres to good moral values.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Lara wanted to be careful. She wasn’t a prude, and she knew she ought not to pass judgment; however, God wanted her to be discerning. There was nothing wrong with handsome and charming—unless it went along with boozing and womanizing. Lara had heard too many tales involving the latter, especially when it came to rodeo cowboys, and it caused her to be suspicious of Brent’s motives.
“Tim once told me that some guys see an innocent woman as a challenge.”
“Oh, what does your brother know? He’s a committed Christian with a sweet fiancée. Besides, how would Brent know you’re innocent?”
“I think men can tell, Polly.”
She merely shrugged.
Lara decided there was no point in debating the issue. She wanted to have fun tonight. “Personally, I think the reason Brent turned on his charm and gave me free tickets to the rodeo is because he wants me to spend money there—and bring some friends who’ll spend money too.”
“Bingo. I think you’re right.”
Lara laughed. The good times were already beginning.
A half-hour later, they arrived at the fairgrounds, paid to park, then walked through the dusty gravel parking lot to the arena with a crowd of other people. After a quick stop in the restroom to brush their hair and touch up their lipstick, Lara and Polly were headed out to find their seats. An usher came forward and offered his assistance, handing them both a program. Lara and Polly were soon shocked to discover that their “tickets” were actually VIP passes and that they would watch the bull-riding competition from the stands right behind the bucking chutes.
“We’re going to be able to hear the bulls snort from these seats,” Lara teased.
“Are you kidding? We’re so close we’ll feel their hot, angry breath!”
Lara grimaced, imagining that bull’s breath didn’t smell all that pleasant. Then, amidst the growing din of the crowd, she sat down and took in the sights.
The arena consisted of an enclosed oblong area that had bucking chutes on one end and a roping chute on the opposite side. The flooring consisted of a clay and sand mixture spread around and loosened with some sort of harrow. Watching the grounds crew finish its final preparations caused Lara to feel bad for Kevin who had been injured somewhere out there. She wondered if he was any better this evening.
“Is this where we’re sitting?” a feminine voice asked, although it sounded more like an exclamation.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Lara turned to see her brother, Tim, and his fiancée, Amanda standing in the aisle.
“This is it,” she replied, waving them in. “We’re practically in the front row.”
“So I see.” Tim allowed Amanda to scoot in first. He then sat down on the end of the metallic bench. “Did you and Polly get programs?”
In reply to her brother’s question, Lara nodded and held hers up so Tim could see it.
“Kevin Wincouser’s part of this rodeo. Remember that guy, Lara? Open your program, and you’ll see his picture. Mom said she heard on the news that he got hurt.”
Lara laughed at her brother’s rapid-fire remarks. “I was at the hospital when Flight brought Kevin in yesterday.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Tim appeared insulted.
“I couldn’t. There are laws I have to abide by, or I’ll lose my job, you know?”
Her brother shrugged.
“But now that the media is reporting Kevin’s injury, I don’t have to keep it a secret anymore.” Lara glanced at her program, knowing she was prohibited from discussing his condition. What the media reported was all she could confirm.
“Wow, Kevin Wincouser. . .” Tim shook his head. “He was like my hero or something.”
“Yeah, mine too,” Lara admitted, leaning over Polly and Amanda in order to converse with her brother.”
“Is this the guy you’re talking about?” Amanda asked, pointing at a photo in her program. Her long, straight, platinum blond hair hung past her shoulders, adorned by a simple red plastic headband.
Lara tried not to envy her future sister-in-law’s flawless beauty. Bright blue eyes, a trim figure, and gorgeous locks, Amanda Erikson was model material. But what caused her to be so special was that the younger woman was just as attractive on the inside. She had a sweet, caring heart and would do just about anything for anybody.
Tim, a sweetheart himself, was a tall, lanky, brunette. He was the veritable computer geek of the Donahue family, and he had found a gem in Amanda. They made an adorable couple, and Lara was looking forward to their wedding in the fall.
Polly gave Lara a nudge. “Look. There’s some activity in the bullpens.”
“Bullpens? That’s baseball, you nut. What you’re staring at are called bucking chutes”
“No, what I’m staring at is a cowboy in a black Stetson heading this way.”
Lara whipped her gaze to the left and saw Brent striding toward them. In one smooth move, he jumped up on the side of the stands and clasped the overhead green metal railing. “Glad you could make it,” he said with a dashing smile.
Lara returned the gesture, then began introductions. “This is my friend, Polly Nivens.”
With his left arm wrapped around the rail, Brent pulled off his tan leather glove and stuck out his right hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Polly.”
“Same here.” Reaching over Lara, she clasped his hand in a friendly shake.
“And this is my brother, Tim, and his fiancée, Amanda.”
Lara watched Brent’s expression as he glanced down the row and bobbed out a polite nod. He didn’t seem star-struck by Amanda’s good looks, which upped Lara’s estimation of him.
“Mac heard from the docs at your hospital,” Brent said, focusing on Lara. “Apparently they’re going to try to wake up Wink on Monday.”
“Really? They’re bringing out his coma so soon? That’s awesome!”
Brent narrowed hi
s brown-eyed gaze. “We’ll see.”
Lara wondered what he meant but didn’t get the opportunity to ask.
“I’d better go. Just wanted to, um, swing by,” Brent stated, indicating the railing he still gripped, “and say hello.”
Lara and Polly smiled, and Brent tugged on the brim of his hat before jumping off the edge of the bleachers.
“Why didn’t you tell me he’s drop dead gorgeous?!” Polly shrieked, putting her hands around Lara’s neck and giving her a playful shake.
“I did tell you.”
Amanda leaned over. “I think I’ll buy Tim a Stetson for Christmas. What do you think?”
“Can’t turn a frog into a handsome prince,” Polly quipped. “Correction—handsome cowboy.”
Lara frowned. “Hey, that’s my brother you’re insulting.”
“And my fiancée.” Amanda raised her perfectly shaped chin in mock indignation.
“Right. You two love him. That’s why you need me to point out the obvious.”
“Amanda, let’s both spill our sodas on Polly’s lap later, accidentally, of course.”
“Not good enough. I think we should volunteer her as a clown during the bull-riding competition tonight.”
Lara laughed, Polly smirked, and Amanda wore an expression that said she’d get even—in one amusing way or another.
The rodeo began with a booming overhead announcement that came on so fast it startled Lara. Then, a pre-show commenced with a parade of pretty white horses wearing decorative headpieces. Dancers stood on the animals’ backs, performing a variety of acrobatic moves and all to a popular western tune that soon had the audience clapping their hands and singing along.
Once the preceding entertainment ended, the contestants were introduced. A familiar song played in the background, warning mothers not to let their children grow up to be cowboys.
“Next, and currently in third place, is Brent Yiska.”
Lara applauded with the rest of the audience but soon felt Polly lean toward her.
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