The Bull Rider's Bride

by Vickie McDonough

  "Don't worry about me, Linds. I'll be okay."

  Her mouth went dry. He hadn't called her that nickname since before Sean died. Before her whole world fell apart six years ago. She couldn't tell him she'd longed to rush to his hospital bed after his accident. But she hadn't. Instead, she'd prayed for God to heal him and help him find a new normal, because she knew he'd be lost without the rodeo in his life.

  He bent down and wrestled her spare tire on, then tightened the lug nuts and lowered the jack. Then he placed the flat tire and tools in the back of the SUV, leaned against it, and stared at her. After a long moment, he looked away. "It's good to see you again. I appreciate that you're checking on Gramma."

  "I enjoy visiting her. She always was a character. She makes me smile."

  He stared off in the distance. "I was sorry to hear your mom died."

  Not sorry enough to visit, but she shouldn't have hoped he would when their relationship had been over for so long. "Thank you."

  "Have you heard anything from your father lately?"

  She'd had almost as hard a time forgiving her father for leaving her and her mother after Sean's death as she had Dusty. "He seems content to stay in Galveston. He likes being on the Gulf."

  "Sorry."

  "The last time I saw him was when Grandma died. He stayed just long enough to attend her funeral then ran out on us again."

  He took a step toward her. "Some men aren't good at handling death."

  Was he referring to himself? "Is that why you didn't come home when Sean died?"

  He stiffened and looked up to where a hawk drifted across the sky. "I should have. I know that now, but after what your dad said, well…I didn't figure I was welcome in your home anymore."

  He'd talked to her dad? "What do you mean? When did you talk with Dad?"

  "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago." He brushed his dirty hands down the front of his jeans.

  "It matters to me, Dusty." Had her father chased him off because his brother was partly responsible for Sean's death?

  "I called to talk with you—after I heard about Sean."

  "And Dad told you not to come?" She could hardly believe he'd do such a thing, knowing how close she and Dusty were.

  "Yeah."

  She leaned back against the car. "I wish you'd come anyway."

  His jaw worked like he was struggling to say something, then he stared past her. "Me, too."

  Myriad thoughts raced through her mind. How could her father have done such a thing? He'd probably been angry with the whole Starr family and lashed out at Dusty because he'd been the one who called. If Dad hadn't chased Dusty away, would she and Dusty be married by now? One horrible accident ended up costing her Sean, her father, and the man she'd loved. She needed to leave before she started crying at the unfairness of it all.

  Lindsey cleared her tight throat. "Thanks for changing the tire."

  She slid into the SUV, started it, and drove out of the drive with Dusty watching. For a few moments, it had felt like nothing had changed between them, but so much had. He'd achieved his dream and was now searching for a new one.

  Her dream had died. And she didn't have the guts to believe it could be resurrected.

  Chapter Three

  Dusty swiped at a trickle of sweat running down his temple as he watched Lindsey drive away. Why had she run off when things were going good between them for the first time in years? Did she regret talking to him? Or was it the subject of her dad that had upset her? It sure was hard for a man to know what was going on in a woman's mind.

  He reached for his hat then realized he'd left it in the tack room. Nothing like a pretty woman to make a cowboy forget his hat. He started for the barn. His leg didn't hurt all that much, even after the bending and twisting he'd done wrestling Lindsey's tires. Doing something for someone else had felt good, and it had gotten his mind off his troubles. But now it was back on them.

  He couldn't continue to mope around all day and take naps like Gramma did each afternoon. Daniel had completed some repairs to Gramma's house, but there was plenty more to be done before the place could be sold. Maybe it was time he fixed a few things around here. It would eat up some of his spare time and give him less opportunity to feel sorry for himself.

  Thunderstruck whinnied as he walked into the barn. Dusty paused at the black gelding's stall. "You want to go outside, boy?" He smoothed out the horse's black forelock then unfastened the gate. The gelding moseyed out and turned toward the open barn doors. Dusty ducked into the tack room to grab his hat then followed the smart quarter horse he'd won at a Tucson rodeo several years ago. He didn't need a lead rope, because Thunder knew where he was going. I sure wish I did, too.

  He opened the pasture gate then watched as the horse bolted through it and ran along the fence that paralleled the road leading to the Pecan Ranch—a humble name his grandpa had given the place because of all the pecan trees that grew on the hundred and sixty-eight acres. It was far too big for Gramma to maintain. He needed to talk to her about moving to a smaller place. He brushed his hand down his cheek and blew out a sigh. With the property taxes on this many acres being so high, the best thing would probably be to sell the ranch, as Daniel had suggested. Luke obviously wasn't interested in it, and Daniel was happily settled. Unless Dusty could figure out a way to use the land and turn a profit, selling was the only option.

  And he'd feel better knowing that Gramma wasn't alone if he had to leave again. Finding a nice assisted living place with lots of ladies that Gramma could teach to knit and yak with seemed like a good idea. Gramma wouldn't have to worry about anything at one of those places, but she would be a long way from her friends. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if there were a better option.

  If he decided to stick around, maybe she could stay here. He could raise cattle, but all he'd really cared about in the past was riding bulls—and wooing Lindsey. Daniel had warned him more than once about quitting college and not preparing for the future. But he'd been focused on his goal. If he'd listened and had continued his education, he never would have achieved Top Cowboy—and that was something he was mighty proud of, even if he'd only accomplished it once.

  Still, he should have realized he was playing Russian roulette with his body. Sooner or later, most bull riders got hurt. At least he wasn't dead. He lifted his gaze to the clear blue sky. "I realize we haven't been on speakin' terms much lately—totally my fault—but I could sure use help. I need some kind of work to do for the rest of my life, God. But I have no idea what."

  His thoughts charged back to Lindsey. Did he have any chance with her after all that had happened? Even if he did, what could he offer her? He had no job. No home of his own. Even the ratty run-down trailer he'd once shared with his twin was gone. He'd grown up in the old farmhouse, but he wasn't sure he wanted to live there now. But if he did, maybe he'd have a second chance with Linds. Was God telling him to pursue her?

  He leaned against the wooden fence railing. For a short while today, she'd been friendly. Maybe if he put some effort in it, he could woo her back. He smiled, liking the sound of that, but how did a man go about doing such a thing?

  Maybe he should talk to Daniel. At least he'd managed to lasso a pretty gal. Amy was good for his brother, but marriage meant that things would change between him and Daniel. His twin had always been there for him. Luke, too, until he'd gone away. Even though their parents died when he was a kid, Dusty had never been completely alone. Sure, he'd been by himself plenty of times, but he always knew Daniel was nearby if he needed him. He didn't like the thought of being alone. Dare he hope Lindsey still had feelings for him?

  Even if she did, that still didn't help with a job. The rodeo would be in Dallas soon. Maybe it was time to make an appearance. Thank all his friends who'd helped cheer him up during those first rough weeks in the hospital. And see if someone would hire him to do something.

  He was pretty sure he'd never ride bulls again. There were other rodeo jobs he could do, but t
hat meant traveling again and leaving Gramma. One thing was for certain: she was getting too old to live out here alone. If he ever hoped to rejoin the circuit, he needed to find a good place for her to live.

  #

  Lindsey stepped inside Craft Away the Day and looked around. It was always quieter in the afternoons than the mornings when Shirley and her friends were here.

  Amy, Daniel's fiancée, rose from behind the counter and wiped off her hands. "Hi there. It's good to see you again."

  "You, too." Lindsey waggled her index finger around her nose. "You've got some dirt on your nose."

  "Oh! I was cleaning out a closet and must have missed that when I washed." Amy spun around and made a beeline toward the bathroom. "Be right back."

  Though Amy had been a bit shy the first time Lindsey had visited the craft store, she liked the woman, who was probably close to her own age. If she were more of a craft person, she and Amy might have become good friends, but until recently, her sewing had consisted of mending tears to her scrubs and sewing buttons on blouses. But now she had a hankering for something more ambitious. She strolled around the store, stopping in front of the calicos. She fingered several, which she realized was silly, since they all felt the same.

  "What can I help you with today?" Amy hurried from the bathroom and stopped next to her.

  "I have several walls at home with nothing on them, and I was thinking of making a couple of quilted wall hangings."

  "That's a great idea. Have you selected a pattern?"

  Lindsey shook her head. "I've looked at some in magazines, but I haven't chosen one yet."

  "You can find all kinds of them online." She waved her hand toward a flower garden pattern wall hanging that decorated the east side of the store. "I bought that one at an online store."

  "Seriously? I figured you made it."

  "Nope." Amy blushed and peeked over her shoulder toward two customers who'd just entered the shop. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

  "Cross my heart." Smiling, she pantomimed the action. "So, do you think I should find my pattern before buying fabric?"

  "Definitely. Otherwise, you don't know how much to get of each fabric piece."

  That did make sense.

  "Is it true you've been visiting Shirley?"

  Lindsey nodded as she studied a purple batik. "I'm a physical therapist, and I've been assigned to visit her twice a week to check her and help with her exercises."

  "How is she doing?"

  "I wish I could say, but I'm not allowed to talk about her condition to anyone except immediate family."

  "I understand." Amy cocked her head and smiled. "So, have you seen Dusty out there? I heard from a very reliable source that you two have history."

  Sometimes Lindsey hated living in a small town. "I suppose his brother mentioned it to you. Or more likely, it was Shirley."

  "Busted!" Amy grinned, but then she sobered. "Dusty has been through so much. It would do him good to settle down and find a nice woman to marry."

  Time to go. She pushed in the bolt of fabric. "I'll get on my computer tonight and see if I can find a pattern I like."

  "If you don't, there are lots of pattern books here. Or I can help you create a unique design—that is, if you need help. And forgive me if I stuck my nose in where it doesn't belong."

  "It's okay. Everyone in Pecan knows that Dusty and I used to be a couple. I guess it's normal for them to talk about it now that we're both in town again."

  "Those ladies certainly gab about everything and everyone." Amy smiled like she thought they were endearing.

  Lindsey felt the same, but she also knew they could be nosey. "If you hear them talking about Dusty and me, tell them I said our relationship ended years ago."

  Amy's expression sagged. "So, there's no hope then?"

  Shrugging, Lindsey reached into her purse for her keys. "I'm a Christian, so I believe there is always hope in this world, but let's just say, I'm not holding my breath. Dusty's a wonderful guy, but…" She bit one corner of her lower lip and stared out the window.

  Amy's eyes widened as she rounded the counter. "You still care for him."

  "I didn't say that."

  "You're talking to a woman in love. Don't think I don't recognize the signs."

  Enough! "I'm very happy for you and Daniel, but I gave up on that dream many years ago. I'd better head home." Lindsey hurried out the door before Amy could mention Dusty again. She couldn't allow herself to get hopeful about renewing a relationship with him. Yes, he'd been friendly today, but Dustin Starr was an affable guy. He always had been.

  She slid into her car and glanced around. Was everyone speculating on whether she and Dusty would get back together?

  #

  Dusty strode toward his Gramma's house. After his long walk in the hot sun, he could use a shower. He raised his hat and swiped the sweat from his brow then entered the house.

  Butterscotch ran toward him, barking. Dusty reached down to pat him, but he barked again. "You want to go outside?"

  Instead of running to the door, he turned and raced away. Dusty shook his head. What was up with him?

  "Dusty…"

  His heart quickened at the tone of Gramma's call. Something was wrong. "Coming." He jogged toward the kitchen, and Butterscotch met him at the door and barked again. The mutt sure was acting strange. He paused in the kitchen doorway and looked in. The room was empty, but he was sure Gramma had called to him from here.

  "Help."

  His pulse leapt like a bull fresh out of a chute. He hurried around the side of the table, where he found Gramma lying on the floor and knelt beside her. At least he didn't see any blood. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

  "I'm fine." She patted his arm. "Help me up."

  "I don't know if you should move. Maybe I oughta call the paramedics."

  "Nonsense. I merely stumbled backwards over Butterscotch's towel. I didn't realize he'd put it down right behind me."

  "I'm gonna throw that thing out."

  She stared at him with wide eyes. "You can't get rid of my dog!"

  He relaxed a smidgeon and smiled. "I meant his old towel."

  "Oh. Well, get me up. I'm tired of being on this floor."

  Butterscotch licked Dusty's hand and then Gramma's cheek. Had the dog been trying to tell him she needed help? Just in case, he patted Butterscotch's head. "Good boy."

  "You be careful, son. I don't want you to strain yourself now that you're finally getting better."

  "I won't." Dusty rolled his eyes and moved around behind his grandma. He stooped down and gently lifted her up, holding on to her until she stopped wobbling and sat in the kitchen chair.

  "Does anything hurt?"

  She chuckled. "Honey, when you reach my age, everything hurts, but no, nothing seems worse than normal." She rubbed her hip. "I took a step back from the sink. My booted foot caught the edge of the towel and slipped out from under me." Her cheeks turned crimson. "If you have to know, I landed on my rump."

  He fought the smile that threatened to break forth and lost. "At least it's well padded."

  "Oh, you stinker." She swatted at his arm, but he dodged out of the way.

  Dusty grabbed the frayed towel from the floor and tossed it into the trash can. Butterscotch followed his actions with his eyes at first, then the dog scurried over, lifted his front paws onto the side of the can, and whined.

  "Really, Dusty. I don't think that's necessary."

  "It's time that dog had a real bed. I'll pick up one the first chance I get. Now, I think we should call your doctor and see if he can check you today."

  Gramma shook her head. "I told you, I'm fine."

  Dusty crossed his arms and tried to look tough. "I insist."

  She lifted her chin. "Too bad."

  He blew out a loud sigh and dropped into the chair beside her. "You scared me, Gramma. Humor me. I want to be sure nothing is broken." He was pretty sure it wasn't because her expression showed no pain, and he knew how painful a bad
injury could be.

  "I'll compromise with you. Give Lindsey a call and see if she'll come and check on me."

  His heart bucked at the mention of Lindsey's name. "Okay. Where's her number?"

  "Up there on my bulletin board."

  Years ago, he and Daniel had put up a corkboard where she could pin recipes she wanted to try out. Over the years, pictures of him and his two brothers had been added, as well as an article about him winning the championship. In a corner, on a purple sticky note, he saw Lindsey's name. After pulling out his cell phone, he dialed her number. She answered on the second ring.

  "Hello?" She obviously didn't recognize his number, because he heard the apprehension in her voice.

  "Hey, this is Dusty. My grandma took a fall, and I wondered if you might be able to come over and make sure she's okay. She won't let me take her to the doctor and says she's fine, but I'd feel a whole lot better if you'd come make sure."

  "Of course. Let me make a couple of phone calls and adjust my schedule. I should be able to get there in a half hour or so. Is she complaining of any pain?"

  "No. I'm probably overreacting." He liked talking to Lindsey on the phone again, even under the circumstances. There'd been a time when they'd talk for hours, even after they'd been together at school or church.

  "It's always better to be sure. See you soon."

  "Okay. I really appreciate it." He clicked off the phone.

  "She's coming?"

  He nodded. "Would you like to lie down until she gets here?"

  She pushed up from the chair. "Oh, goodness, no. I've got too much to do."

  He looked around the kitchen, which seemed clean to him. "Like what?"

  She headed toward the counter. "There's dishes in the sink that need to be washed from the brownies I made, the floor needs sweeping—"

  A loud bang echoed through the room, making Gramma jump. Dusty turned at the same time she did and saw the dog had knocked over the trash can and was rescuing his towel.