by Sable Hunter
After taking care of the animals, she climbed into her truck and headed out toward the road. Before she got very far, her phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, I hate we were interrupted. Don’t let George give you a hard time.”
Her heart raced at the sound of his voice. She was falling in love with Dallas McClain, no doubt about it. “Did he give you one?” She could just imagine her old friend holding a shotgun as he forced Dallas to do the right thing.
“He tried,” that was all Dallas would say. “Listen, I wanted you to know that Howard Keel was apprehended a few minutes ago trying to cross the border in El Paso. I’m going to be taking him in for questioning. If we find he’s been responsible for all of this–well, that’s great. If there’s any doubt, I’ll be back.”
His statement didn’t bring her comfort. Dallas implied he wouldn’t be coming back if the case was solved.
Well, now she knew.
Lennon swore she wouldn’t let him know how much she cared–how much it would hurt. “Okay. Good luck.” Frankly, she didn’t know what else to say.
Dallas could tell something was wrong. “Look, Lennon. I know we need to have a talk.”
Lennon didn’t want to hear this–not now. “Sure…I look forward to it. I need to go and see if there are any cattle to feed tonight.”
“I’ll make sure to tell the guys to help you. They’ll see that the fence is repaired too.”
“Thanks.” Lennon knew this wasn’t part of the Rangers job description. He was calling in favors because… Dang. Maybe he just felt sorry for her. Poor, pitiful, Lennon. No–she wouldn’t cling. “Be careful.” Her concern for him couldn’t be hidden, she just didn’t have the strength.
“I will and I’ll keep you informed.” He lingered. “You take care too.”
“I will. Bye.” She hung up quickly before he could tell she was crying.
* * *
The next day, Dallas was completely worn out. And he wasn’t any closer to getting the case solved than he had been when he’d left. Howard Keel had been interrogated by the best, but he wouldn’t crack. The best they could determine was the fact that he wasn’t working alone. The lie detector test confirmed Keel didn’t know where the stolen cattle were or who had shot the Mexican. What he did admit to doing was the acts of vandalism. Dallas was convinced he was working for Rooster Daniels, but so far his suspicions hadn’t been confirmed. Bottom line–Lennon was still in danger and his job wasn’t done.
A strange sense of relief filled him. He wasn’t ready to let her go.
Heading west, he figured he could be at Apache Springs before dark. He was on I-10 about thirty miles east of Fort Stockton. Holding his phone to his ear, he called Lennon.
No answer. Next, he tried the house phone and was relieved when George answered. “Apache Springs.”
“Hello, George. May I speak to Lennon?”
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
George was silent. Obviously, Dallas was still in the doghouse as far as George was concerned.
“Come on, George. I need to talk to her. Howard Keel wasn’t working alone, and we don’t know who else is out there trying to hurt her.”
“Besides you, you mean?”
“I’m not trying to hurt her.” Dallas sighed. “I’m trying to protect her.”
“Who’s going to protect her from you? Are you about to propose?”
Dallas didn’t want to have this conversation. “This is mine and Lennon’s business.” He didn’t want to be rude, but… He focused on the passing landscape. The farther he drove west, the more barren the land became…. Just like his life before Lennon – barren.
“You hurt her, McClain, and you’ll have to answer to me.” George promised.
“I respect that.” Dallas couldn’t tell George that loving Lennon would hurt her far more than if Dallas just walked away.
George sighed. “She left the ranch this morning, dropped the sheep off at the auction barn and she’s now over at the rodeo arena trying to rake in a little extra dough.”
Dallas remembered. “What rodeo arena? How will I find her? Is she running a booth?”
“Fort Stockton, not too far off the interstate. Just follow the billboards.” He chuckled. “And no, she’s not running a booth. Not exactly. Just get a ticket and sit in the stands, you’ll find her soon enough.”
The phone went dead in his hands. Damn. Dallas checked the mileage. He’d be in town in time to catch most of the events. But then, the events weren’t really what he was going after…
At the arena…
“Cowgirls and Cowpokes, please rise for the National Anthem and the presentation of our flags.”
Near the gate where the bulls would emerge, Lennon stood with the other bullfighter, a man named Dinky Diehl. While Dinky was in full clown regalia, Lennon was dressed in her usual red outfit with hair in pigtails and her trusty bra slingshot with nerf balls ready to shoot at her bovine targets.
“You need to watch Whiskey River, Lennon. He’s smart and mean as a snake. He gored a guy up in Montana a few weeks ago.”
Lennon nodded at Dinky. “Okay. I will.” She stared at the crowd, trying to ground herself. This hadn’t been the best day in the world. She’d had words with George over Dallas. Lennon hadn’t wanted to offend her friend, but she refused to be ashamed of what she’d done or how she felt. He’d asked her if she took precautions against getting pregnant and Lennon refused to answer, Mainly, because she’d been stunned–shocked–dumbfounded. She felt beyond stupid. Birth control had never entered her head. She couldn’t blame Dallas; she was a grown person. He hadn’t asked her about protection, but she hadn’t insisted on it either. Could she be pregnant? Probably not, but she wouldn’t know for certain until she took a test.
Leaning against the fence, she worried. If she were pregnant, what would she do? What would Dallas do? She didn’t want him to feel obligated to marry her. People probably didn’t do those type of things too much anymore. Lennon sighed. In many ways she was behind the times. Her parents had been older, she’d had no siblings and the main influence in her life, other than her own folks, had been her elderly neighbors.
“Want a hot dog?” Dinky asked. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before our action starts.”
“No, I’m good.” She didn’t feel like eating. Anytime she had to face the bulls, her stomach seemed full of butterflies. Lennon hoped that was the case and she wasn’t expecting. Part of her wanted to walk away, not to do something so dangerous when she might be pregnant. But what choice did she have?
Down the street…
Dallas searched for a parking place. He was anxious to see Lennon, to tell her what was going on, to ask her opinion… Fuck. He was just anxious to see Lennon. As he moved across the parking lot, the buzz of the security lamps seemed louder, like the buzzing of a thousand insect wings. Gasps from the crowd told him some cowboy had just been pitched into the air by a bucking bronc. The closer he came, the more familiar the noise became. He’d been to several rodeos since moving to Central Texas. The smell of parched peanuts and roasting hot dogs wafted on the air. He intended to hunt Lennon, and if he couldn’t find her on the outskirts, he’d climb into the stands where he had a better view.
“Next up is Lamar Boden riding Green Mile. This is a wild bull, Ladies and Gentlemen. He’s only been ridden once.”
Bull riding. His favorite part of the rodeo. There was nothing like watching those one ton beasts twist and turn. He’d never even been tempted to try. The cowboys who messed with those monsters were a special breed. As he listened to the announcer, Dallas weaved his way through the concession stands featuring everything from turkey legs to nachos. There were also booths offering hand tooled belts, purses and T-shirts. Funny, he hadn’t realized rodeos had turned into mini fairs. Scanning the crowd, he checked every face and none of them was Lennon. With renewed resolve, he bought a ticket to enter the stands. He’d find her there, for sure. All day h
e’d been rehearsing what to say to her. He wanted to talk about the case, but more than that – he needed to apologize for putting her in a position to lose face with her family. George was important to her and he should’ve shown more discretion. The old man went to sleep early enough that they could’ve waited. Shit. A feeling of guilt rose in his chest. He’d seduced a virgin, a woman who deserved everything. And what did he have to give in return? A tarnished past, a broken spirit and a hardened heart.
As he pushed his way through the crowd, avoiding women with babies on their hips, and congregations of rhinestone cowboys being ogled by buckle bunnies, he snorted–not at the people around him but from the eagerness that he felt to see Lennon again. Visions of her beautiful body, her sweet face, her moans of delight as he loved on her were indelibly imprinted on his mind.
Making his way to the stands, he began to climb, dodging little cowpokes and cowgirls decked out in western finery. Dallas decided to make his way to the top so he’d have an eagle-eye view. His eyesight was sharp, he’d be able to pick her out of the crowd, especially if she were walking the aisles hawking peanuts or corn dogs. Honestly, it bothered him that she had to do this. Lennon worked hard enough already.
Settling down on a bench-style bleacher, he rested his forearms on his thighs, clasped his hands and began to methodically survey the crowd. There were many pretty women, but no vibrant, dark-haired beauty with a million-dollar smile. The thought meandered through his mind how much his estimation of her had changed. At first, he’d thought her unattractive and now she was fast redefining his idea of the perfect woman.
“Six seconds. So sorry, Lonnie B. Combs! Hurry, hurry, grab your hat!”
Dallas let his eyes shift to the action in the arena. A cowboy was scrambling around trying to avoid the sharp horns of an angry bull while two clowns with a barrel cut the beast off. One of them was a large guy wearing bozo hair and full clown makeup. The other was a tiny thing, wearing form-fitting red long johns with pigtails, shooting nerf balls at the bull with a…bra? He couldn’t help but laugh, then gasp as the bull turned on the small woman. Even the long-underwear couldn’t mask her delicate curves. She turned slightly, skipping just out of the way of sharp horns and he could see she wore no white-face or clown makeup. Along with the rest of the crowd, he held his breath as the bull focused on the diminutive female. She dashed out of the way in the nick of time to grab ahold of a barrel to turn over in front of the charging animal. And when she did–the truth hit Dallas like a run-a-way freight train. Lennon! His Lennon was a fuckin’ bullfighter!
Dallas sprang to his feet, descending the stairs so quickly that his boots barely made contact with the wooden steps. With his heart in his throat, Dallas focused on getting across the pavilion to Lennon’s side. And when he got his hands on her delectable little body…she wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.
On the other side of the arena, Lennon guzzled a cup of water. “Wow, Dinky, that was a close one.”
“Did he get you?” Dinky ran his finger over the torn material on her shoulder. “Yep, just a graze but it’s bleeding. I bet that hurts like hell. You should go over to the first aid trailer. You don’t want that to get infected. We’ve only got one more to go, and I can handle it.”
“Yea, but it’s Whiskey River and I’m not letting you take any chances.” About that time, the announcer called out the unlucky rider of the renowned bull. “We’ll do this together.”
Before Dallas could get to the opposite side and around to the gate, he heard the buzzer sound. Muttering a blue cloud of curses, he hopped up on the fence to watch Lennon scamper around waiting for the unlucky cowboy to get thrown–spurs over Stetson–over the tossing horns of the biggest black bull he’d ever seen. The sound of the man’s body hitting the ground seemed to echo, even over the gasps and shouts of the crowd.
“We got trouble, Dinky.” Whiskey River stood pawing, sides heaving. There was no smoke coming from his nostrils, but Lennon fully expected it. “I’ll get his attention and you haul that poor guy outta here.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Dallas stood frozen with his heart in his throat as he watched Lennon taunt the big bull, teasing him by hitting him with balls, tossing her little bra at the bull. Talk about waving a flag! The mad animal shook his head at Lennon and charged. Seeing her fragile little body just inches in front of those huge horns and pounding hooves tore his guts up. Before he knew what was what, his feet moved of their own accord, and Dallas found himself bounding over the fence and out into the midst of the chaos.
Lennon’s heart was pounding, her lungs burned and she wondered if today would be the day her luck ran out. This bull was seriously intent on making hash out of her if he got the opportunity. Zigzagging just out of reach of his horns, she gauged how far she had to lure him so Dinky and others could safely remove the injured cowboy from the arena. Lennon could almost feel the animal’s hot breath on her neck. She turned her head to see where he was and how much longer she had to play bait before trying to save herself.
Wham!
One moment Lennon was on her own two feet and the next she was in the air–but not on the end of a bull’s horn. Two strong arms were wrapped around her and she could hear an angry male voice commanding the beast to “BACK THE FUCK OFF!”
Dallas.
The bull seemed as surprised as Lennon and the on-looking crowd. The announcer had been giving a blow-by-blow account of the actions in front of him until Dallas had let loose with the desperate profanity. Now, the man manning the mic was stammering and stuttering, turning on music to cover up any further blue language that the crazy man on the field might shout.
“Dallas?” Lennon clung to him. “Thank-you. What are you doing here?” She was too stunned to think straight.
Dallas was angry. He was scared shitless. He was ready to kick-ass and take names. “What in God’s name did you think you were doing?” He didn’t stop at the gate. He ignored anyone who ran up to see if Lennon needed anything. He stalked off the rodeo ground with her in his arms.
“This is what I do to make extra money,” she offered tentatively, realizing he probably didn’t approve of her second job. “It’s okay, I know what I’m doing. I’ve done it lots of times.”
“Do you think the fact that you’ve done this a lot of times makes me feel any better?” The pressure rising in his chest threatened to squeeze his heart in two. “Whoever allowed you to put your life on the line like that should be skinned alive.”
Lennon would’ve been blind if she couldn’t see how upset he was–she just didn’t know why. “No one allowed me. I make my own decisions. I used to be in drama club. A friend helped me get into this.”
“Some friend,” Dallas said through gritted teeth. “What were you thinking?” he shouted this time. “That’s no job for a woman, especially one no bigger than a minute like you!”
Lennon tried to look around. “My truck is not over here.”
“You’re going with me now. We’ll get your truck later.” With no further explanation, he made a beeline for his vehicle, then balanced her on his thigh while he opened the door.
“I’m not the only female who does this, there’s another woman in Texas who used to be a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader.”
He sat her down, then proceeded to fasten her seatbelt. “Is that also supposed to make me feel better? She couldn’t be more feminine than you.”
Lennon thought about smiling, but she was still too upset. She wasn’t as upset as Dallas, however. She wasn’t afraid of him either…she just didn’t get why he was so angry. Once he was seated next to her, she added. “Thanks, I’ve never been accused of being feminine. I didn’t think most people realized I was a girl.”
Dallas cut his eyes at her. “I’ve noticed. I’ve been buried balls deep inside of you–remember?”
Lennon could tell he was still mad, for his tone was almost accusing. “I’m all right, Dallas. Really. All I got was these scratches?”
Dallas was trying to back hi
s truck out of a tight spot, but he took the time to look. “Damn, I’ve got a first aid kit in the back. As soon as we find a room, I’ll tend to it for you.”
“A room?” They were only a few hours away from the ranch. “I don’t have a room. I wasn’t intending to stay the night. What do we need a room for?”
For a moment, Dallas remained silent, then he just laid it out. “I need to talk to you and I need to make love to you–and it won’t necessarily be in that order.
The thrill that shot through Lennon stole any protest she might make. “Oh.” When Dallas took a mind to do something, he didn’t sway. In less than eight minutes, he’d found a nearby motel, checked in and carried her and the first aid kit into the room. “I can walk.”
“Yea, you can dodge a deadly bull too–doesn’t mean you need to.”
Lennon had no experience with the type of concern Dallas was showering on her. He sat her down, helped her take off the crazy costume, then tenderly ministered to her wound. She couldn’t help but see his hands were shaking. What did this mean? If she didn’t know better, Lennon would say he was acting like a man in love. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Dallas took deep breaths, trying to fight off the panic. He kept picturing Lennon’s small body crumpled on the ground, stomped bloody by a one-ton bull, bleeding from being gored to death. There was no use saying that he wasn’t upset. He was, and now–he didn’t know what to say. “Okay, that’s got it.” He affixed the tape over the medicated gauze he’d placed over the angry scrape.
Lennon sat there in her bra, the red long-johns pooled at her waist. “Thank you.” He’d said they were going to make love. Had he changed his mind? “Dallas?”
Dallas put the first aid kit back together. His breathing was evening out; his fingers had quit shaking. Trying to explain how he felt would be hard, he didn’t know if he could do it. Well, if he couldn’t communicate to her with words–he knew another way. His cock was hard and he needed to reaffirm life–celebrate the fact that they were both alive and well. “I need you, Lennon. I need to be inside of you more than I need to breathe.”