“Daddy, who are all of these men? What’s happening?”
He didn’t look her in the eye as he surveyed what she carried. “Got everything? Come on. I’ll answer your questions in the house where we can talk privately. Let’s get you in out of the cold for now.”
No kiss, no welcome home hug? This was not how she’d envisioned her final homecoming.
What the hell is going on?
Zephyr neighed again, and Gwen didn’t think it was her imagination that her horse seemed to echo the very same sentiment.
* * * *
Julián Alvarez nodded in thanks to his friend and coworker, Chris Potter, as he tossed him a breakfast taco. They unwrapped their steaming food and stood in the barn entry of the Cook Ranch, where they were employed as ranch hands, eating quickly before going back to work. They’d both risen early that morning to get chores done because they had last-minute Christmas shopping to do.
The phone in his pocket chimed softly as he stuffed the last bite of chorizo and egg wrapped in a flour tortilla in his mouth.
“Damn, these are good,” Chris muttered over a full mouth.
Julián nodded. “Cassie is a good cook. Thanks for getting the coffee too.” Chris had volunteered to make the short run into Divine to the local coffee shop, Divine Drip. Cassie Resendez, the proprietor, sold coffee, and homemade kolaches and breakfast tacos.
Chris replied unintelligibly as he chewed and unwrapped a second taco. With amusement in his eyes, he nodded at the phone in Julián’s barn jacket pocket and finally said, “You gonna see what that is?”
Julián chuckled as he finished his taco, wiped his hands on his jeans, and pulled the phone from his pocket. They both already knew what—or more accurately—who it was.
Gwen Henderson. His beautiful little barrel racing champion was a social media darling. He’d set things up so that he’d receive a notification whenever she posted a new Facebook update. The chime had signaled something new from Gwen.
He licked his lips as he swiped the screen on his smartphone, enjoying the growing curiosity on Chris’s face. Chris teased him about it, but Julián had a feeling he enjoyed Gwen’s pictures and witty updates as much as Julián did, even though Chris and Gwen had never met.
“What’s she say this time?” Chris asked with a trace of impatience in his voice.
Chuckling, Julián found her update and smiled at the picture she’d posted of a beautiful spread, undoubtedly her home in Colorado. Her family’s ranch was the center of her universe.
“She says, ‘I’m home. For good. No more life on the rodeo circuit for me.’” He turned the phone to Chris so that he could see the picture.
Chris took it from him and squinted at the screen. “Beautiful place. Looks cold.”
Julián nodded. “Quite a bit colder than it is here.” They were looking at sunny skies and temperatures reaching the high sixties that day. He typed a reply to her status update and put his phone back in his pocket.
“What did you tell her?”
“None of your damned business.”
“Chickenshit.” There was challenge in his big friend’s eyes as he stared at him.
Sighing, Julián turned the phone so that Chris could see what he’d typed and braced himself. Let the razzing begin.
Chris snorted. “Oh shit, that is fucking eloquent.”
“Shut the fuck up—” Julián made to punch him in the arm.
Chris jumped out of his reach. “Have you ever thought of writing romance novels or Hallmark cards? That shit is so romantic it brings a fucking tear to my eye.” Chris barked with laughter as he balled up his foil wrapper and chucked it at Julián. He knew not to take Chris’s teasing seriously. That was just the way his friend was.
“That’s okay, Jersey Shore. At least I can reach the romantic fucking bone in my body,” he growled as he grabbed his crotch. “You’re so damned muscle-bound, I’ll bet you can’t reach your dick or wipe your ass without your mama’s help.”
Chris turned on him with intent in his eyes as they entered the tack room in the barn. “Talking about my ma is gonna get you fucked up. And I can reach my dick and my ass just fine, motherfucker.” He fought laughter as he spoke in a put-on Jersey accent and flexed his biceps which were like massive tree limbs. He grabbed his own crotch and added, “Your ma wasn’t complaining when I was stuffing my dick in her mouth last night.”
“Fucker!” Julián burst into laughter as he lifted a saddle from the stand and hefted it at Chris. His big friend caught it as though it was a toy. He lifted another for himself before they walked down the row of horse stalls in the barn to saddle up. Not many people knew how to take Chris’s brashness and sense of humor, but he and this giant of a man had hit it off from the beginning, trading insults like two best friends from the old neighborhood.
“Hey, Julió,” Chris said, calling him by the nickname he despised.
“What, Guido?” Julián replied, returning the favor. Thanks to his Italian ancestry and his Eastern roots, Chris looked like he was straight out of an episode of Jersey Shore, even though he had grown up in the Texas Hill Country.
Chris waved off the friendly insult. “All kidding aside. Do you think you’ll ever see her again?”
“Who?”
“You know who. Gwen. Now that she’s retired from the circuit.”
More than just about anything he wanted to say yes in answer to Chris’s question. “I don’t know. Once she starts her training school for barrel racing horses and riders, she’ll be as busy as a one-armed wallpaper hanger. Teresa, Angel, and Joaquin Martinez are pretty tight with her. Maybe she’ll visit sometime.” He told himself to not get his hopes up. Timing always seemed to conspire against them whenever their paths crossed.
He thought about shopping for something for her when they went into Divine. Just a little something to ship to her as a Christmas gift.
What would she think if he did? It wasn’t like there was a permanent tie between them. Just that undeniable electric connection he’d experienced every time he’d been around her.
“You’ve known each other a few years, right?”
“Yeah. Competed at a lot of the same rodeos. She’s really something when she rides.”
Chris’s lip curled in a smile and he opened his mouth to make a smart-assed comment.
“Don’t.” Some things were sacred. Chris could kid all he wanted but not about Gwen.
Chris closed his mouth and grinned apologetically at Julián just as quickly. “Sorry, ribaldry is part of my Italian charm.”
“Just get your ribald ass in the saddle. Let’s get the fences checked so we can get to town and be back by dark.” He entered the horse stall, speaking softly to Mick as he saddled him.
Chris entered the next stall. “Shit. How much fucking shopping do you fucking need to do?”
“You say fuck a lot. You know that, Guido?”
“Hey, fuck you. It’s in my fucking nature—Julió.” Chris’s horse nickered a warning sound and he spoke softly to the big beast before he added, “You planning to get Gwen something?”
“I might.”
“You should. Get her something that lets her know you care about her.”
“Yeah, I was planning on putting something in the mail for her, Mr. Hallmark.”
Chris waved off his attempt at humor with derision. “Nah, not a greeting card. I’m thinking along the lines of something that sparkles.”
Right. And scare the shit out of her. “We’ll see. I have a lot of other family to buy for too.”
“You waited until the last minute for everyone? And they’re all spread out all over the country, right? You’re gonna pay through the nose for shipping.”
What Julián didn’t say was that he was set for money, thanks to his time in another life, spent wearing a suit and sipping lattes on Wall Street. He could easily afford the pay-through-the-nose shipping rates to get the gifts where they needed to go by Monday, if it wasn’t too late by the time he found ev
erything. “I’ll make it work somehow. Let’s just get done so we can get to town.”
He wondered again about what to send Gwen. What would she like now that she was starting a new chapter in her life? A chapter that could mean their paths might never cross again.
What could a tumbleweed like him offer her anyway? He liked Divine but hadn’t felt the pull yet to put down roots in the quaint little town. It felt like home sometimes but there was something missing. Maybe he’d be a tumbleweed his whole life. The thought depressed him.
Memories of the last time he’d seen her came to him. He’d thought the night out at The Dancing Pony was going downhill, after being confronted by the irate boyfriend of a very inebriated but undeniably enticing Jayne Sheridan. Though he now counted Jayne and her new husband, Seth Carter, as his good friends, he’d thought the night would end on a sour note. Then the Martinezes had shown up, with Gwen in tow.
He’d always thought of her as “the one who got away.” For one reason or another, the opportunity to spend time alone with her had never presented itself, either already being hooked up with someone else, or one leaving town when the other was just arriving.
He’d thought they would finally have their moment that night as they’d gazed into each other’s eyes on the dance floor at The Dancing Pony, moving together as though they were one, already joined. She’d been the only thing he could see, and he felt about ten feet tall when she looked at him the way she had. He kissed her as they danced and she whispered in his ear that she wanted him. Her siren’s plea still echoed in his memory.
They’d said good-night to their friends and had slipped out to his truck. But a few more sweltering kisses were all they’d had time for, before her phone had rung. The call had been regarding a family emergency. She’d regretfully asked for a rain check, before going back in the club to let the Martinezes know she needed to get back to the ranch.
At the time, she hadn’t told him the exact nature of the emergency, but he respected that she put a high priority on family and hoped for another opportunity in the future. That’d been five months before.
She’d gotten his cell phone number from him before leaving and had been in contact since then, mostly when she was driving the long miles between events in her big red dually pickup. He’d never really been one to enjoy talking on the phone but he’d always looked forward to chatting with her.
They’d called each other since then but between work and traveling they hadn’t been in a position to make plans to visit. The end of the year had been a whirlwind of finishing up her career as a barrel racing competitor. Hell, she was more than a competitor. She had several world championship titles under her belt.
Julián tried to cast off the longing and melancholy that thinking of her inspired. He wanted her, but her dreams were in Colorado, and he was there in Texas.
Chris led the saddled horse from the stall and stopped outside in the walkway. “Hey, daydreamer. You didn’t answer me.”
“What?”
“I just wondered what it would take to get her down here for a visit. I’d like to meet her face-to-face someday.”
“One look at your big ugly mug and she’ll be jumping back in her dually and hauling ass home, Guido.”
Chris delivered a cinderblock-like punch to his shoulder and replied, “Fuck you, Julió. You’re just scared she wouldn’t be able to resist my Italian charm and good looks.”
“Yeah, maybe so. But then you’d open your mouth and I won’t have to worry.” He didn’t bother punching Chris back as they walked out of the barn, because the giant probably wouldn’t even feel it anyway.
Chapter Two
They sat in her father’s cluttered office, located in the den of the aging, expansive ranch house. Her first plan had been to redo the office for him and buy him a new, unblemished desk. That hope was gone.
“Everything?”
Her father’s cheeks were ruddy and he could barely hold eye contact with her. Such a change in the man she knew and loved. “Pretty near. I’m so sorry, sweetie. I can’t believe I did somethin’ so foolish. I trusted the man who gave me the tip. I felt completely certain that I could triple the money.”
She couldn’t speak, so she whispered. “Zephyr?”
Her father’s mouth turned down into a sad frown. “Zephyr, too, sweetie, I’m so sorry. Collateral on the loan for the stock market investment. I know how much you love her and I thought this was a sure thing. More than anything, I wanted you to come home and find the mortgage completely paid off. Instead, I—you’re comin’ home and finding out you’re…”
“Homeless?”
His shoulders slumped and he ran his fingers through his gray hair, which bristled outward in all directions like he’d been repeating the motion all morning. He let out a gusty sigh and nodded.
“How is this possible? The prize money. The investments.” Everything she’d been working toward for ten years. Funding the improvements on the ranch, adding new breeding stock to the herds. She’d invested all of it in the ranch and trusted her dad to manage it.
“The recession. Disease in the herds. Low prices at cattle auctions. Normally, these would be things we’d tough out, but with that balloon payment coming due on the mortgage…I took a chance and I fouled things up, permanently this time.”
“The stock market? How much experience do you have with the stock market?”
“None.” The apology in his shaky tone scared her more than anything. “I’ve never done a more stupid thing in my life. I trusted this tip. Figured I’d get in and get out, and have this place all sewn up for you. Ready for you to start your new venture.” Instead, the ranch that had been in her family since her great-great-grandparents moved out west was now bank property.
“What do we do now?”
She could hear people trudging up and down the stairs. He glared up at the ceiling and looked ready to curse. “The balloon payment is overdue. The bank wants their money so they’re taking most everything.”
A sense of violation curdled in her stomach, as she listened to strangers thumping around upstairs in the bedrooms. Her bedroom was right over the den. Right then she wanted to hit someone.
Her father beckoned to her and pointed to the chair across from him. In a low tone, he said, “Come sit.” She didn’t feel like sitting but she did as he asked. “I loaded up your old horse trailer and the old truck with everything from your room and the trophy cabinets, including your furniture. Nobody besides Roger knows that it’s out at his place but you and me.”
“My old truck?” The first truck she’d ever hit the road in when she’d begun competing on the circuit. It must’ve had half a million miles on it by the time she’d replaced it with a newer model but they’d kept it for a ranch truck.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his whiskered jaw and then looked up at her. “I had some cash set aside, for emergencies, just like how I taught you to do. It’s in a manila envelope in the old hidey-hole in the bench seat. Not even Roger knows it’s there.”
“But what will you do? You need to keep hold of that money.” If the bank was taking everything, then he’d need money to find a place to live and to take care of himself.
He waved his hand, cutting her off. “That money is for you. I’m staying out at Roger’s for the time being, so you don’t worry about me. Hopefully this is temporary, if…”
“Temporary? If what?”
He looked up at her, a deep furrow between his graying bushy eyebrows. “Roger is getting the funds together to buy the place when it comes up for auction. Zephyr too. He’s looking into it but it’ll take a little doing to get the money together. In the meantime…”
“What?” Hope and worry raced neck and neck, forcing her heart to pound. Roger Bedford and her father had been friends for only a couple of years so she didn’t know what to think of their arrangement. He was placing an awful lot of trust in the man. But he also knew him better than Gwen did.
“If you want to go back out on the circ
uit for…one more go-round. One more winning year. We could pay him back. He’s a good friend. He’d do it for us.”
Go out on the road for another year? “Wait. To get the kind of money we’d need, I’d have to win every event I entered.”
“You’re retiring at the top of your game, baby. It’s conceivable. Every win would help. He’d be willing to finance the rest.”
Gwen didn’t know how to feel about the deal her father had worked out. As far as she could tell, Roger Bedford was a decent man. Had been a good friend. But she knew he was also a shrewd businessman.
The thumping up and down the stairs continued until the boot steps rang in her head. “I need to get out of here.”
“Roger is already on his way over here. You can rest at his place and have time to figure out your next move.” Her dad gently squeezed her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I feel like every bit the failure your mother told me I was before she left. Every bit of it.” He appeared to have aged twenty years during their conversation.
She couldn’t formulate a reply to his self-degrading statement. All her emotions were knotted up into a lump in her chest so that she felt everything and nothing all at once. She was in shock, and she needed to gather her thoughts and decide what to do. Quickly. “Are you coming too?”
Her father shook his head. “No. I’ll be over later. The hands are all packing up and I want to see them off. I feel like hell for turning them loose with so little notice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why wait until today? You could’ve told me anything and I would’ve been here sooner. We could’ve stopped this from happening.”
“I thought until the last minute that it would all work out. Then when it went south…I was too ashamed to tell you.”
The humiliation and vulnerability in his eyes broke her heart. She’d hesitated leaving him to run the ranch alone after her mother had left him and filed for divorce five months before, but he’d assured her that it would be a good distraction and that he could handle things. Obviously, he’d overestimated his ability to distance himself from the pain of losing the woman he’d loved for forty years.
Tangled in Divine [Divine Creek Ranch 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2