Chance for Love
A Colorado Blues Story
Ann B. Harrison
Text Copyright © 2015 Ann B. Harrison
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINTEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER ONE
The doctor looked at Chance, sympathy obvious in his eyes. “I’m sorry. This time you’ve done far more damage than even I can fix.” He walked away from the lit up x-ray box where his patients broken hip was on display and sat heavily in his chair, swinging it around to look at Chance. “You should get more movement in your leg once the hip heals better, but I’m afraid there will be no more bull riding for you.”
Chance Watson swallowed the bile rising in his throat. The quick rush of emotions threatened to tip him over the edge if he didn’t get a grip on them. He’d been expecting something like this, but it still rocked his world. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “It’s all I know. Not sure how I’m going to go back to running a ranch without the thrill of upcoming competitions to look forward to.”
“Well now, I’m sure once you get used to it, you’ll manage just fine. Your daddy bred some of the best bucking bulls in Colorado in his day. Don’t see why you can’t take over the reins now it’s time. From what I hear, he’s let that part of his job lapse since your mother died.” The doctor leaned back in his chair. “You know, he’d be right proud of what you’ve achieved in your career. Champion bull rider for what, twelve years in a row? Can’t say I know of anyone else who’s had as long a career on the rodeo circuit as you have.”
Chance snorted and looked away. He’d had an amazing career and as far as he was concerned, it was still flourishing. Or at least it had been until now. As to how his drunk of a father was faring, he didn’t rightly care. “How much longer until you can take the pins out of my hip?”
The doctor leaned forward and reached for his laptop, flicking through the dates. “I can take you into surgery in five weeks. I don’t see any reason why the bones wouldn’t have knitted well enough by then so long as you don’t take any knocks to the bone. Pretty standard procedure so you’d only be in overnight.” He closed the book and smiled. “Go home, Chance, and rest up. You have the ranch and I’m sure with a little bit of help you’ll do well. Just that you will be on the other side of the bulls now. Breeding them, not riding them. Much safer in my opinion. Last thing I wanted was to see you here in this state.”
Chance stood up with the help of his cane, getting his balance before letting go of the edge of the chair. He tried to stand tall but the pain in his hip made it almost impossible for him to stretch out to his full height of 6’3”.
“My nurse will be in touch the week before to go over the arrangements for admission. Go and start your new life. Kick back and think of doing something that won’t give your body such a hard time from now on.”
“Sure, Doc. Ranching sounds just like the ticket to me right now.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice, but deep down he wondered if this was what he was looking for.
“You have younger brothers. Surely one of them can help you out.”
Chance put his hat on his head before he shook the doctor’s hand and headed out of his office. At the curb, Ralph, his driver sat on the hood of his car.
“Boss.” He stood when Chance hobbled toward him and hurried to open the back door of the car.
Once he was settled inside, he dropped the cane to the floor. Raising bulls instead of riding them, not bloody likely. My career couldn’t be over, not just yet. Not when I am still the toast of Colorado and the rodeo circuit.
“Where to boss? Back to the hotel?” Ralph was grinning at him from over his shoulder waiting for instructions.
“Yeah, back to the hotel but we won’t be staying there for long. I want you to grab my bags and then we’re heading to the ranch. I have things to sort out.”
***
Callie Lister gazed out at the red barren land just outside of Alice Springs in the Northern Territory, Australia. This place was her home, always had been, and she’d expected to grow old here. Her father regaled her with tales of how she would take over when he was too old to work, letting her run the station as she saw fit knowing she would make sure her sisters could work alongside her as well if that was what they chose to do.
But now that was all gone...or would be by the end of the week. The accident that took both of her parents brought home the cruel reality of life in the outback. All in the form of a letter from the bank delivered just days after the funeral that saw both of her parents buried under the unforgiving red earth when a tired driver caused them both to be taken far too young.
“Callie.” The youngest of the twins, Jess, stood at the gate, looking unsure of whether to approach her or not. Tears streaked down her face and Callie held open her arms to her sister. Together they stood in the dusty barren yard, holding each other up against the onslaught of pain threatening to knock them down.
“Hush. It will alright, you’ll see.” Callie brushed the damp hair from Jess’s face. At three weeks shy of eighteen, Jess was the more sensitive of the twins. She was the one who always felt the pain or disappointment in life where as her sister Lori was pragmatic and down to earth. It was her who was packing the twins’ belongings to move to the city to live with their father’s parents so they could attend university and get a good education.
“I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”
Callie pushed her back and wiped her thumbs under Jess’s eyes to stay the tears. “You can’t and we both know it. I have to do this; I have no other choice.”
“Get a job here on another station. There must be someone that will employ you.”
“There isn’t. Besides, the money isn’t that good here anymore, not with the drought hitting everyone as hard as it has. Plus, I don’t know anything else but farming. I wouldn’t stand a hope in hell of getting a job in the city either. I’m better off going to America and making some decent money. Maybe then I can come home and we can start again.”
That’s if I can get away after the time limit is up. Twelve months will go fast, especially if I work hard and save my money.
“But…”
“No buts. Stay strong and go and help Lori pack your stuff. Grandpa will be here soon and I doubt he will want to hang around much. It’s a long drive to town.” She watched Jess slowly make her way back inside the house. Callie looked it over, knowing she could only take her memories with her when she left.
The bank had been quite clear on that. Nothing was to be removed apart from their personal effects. Not that they had much anyway. Life was too tough for extras and that had never been a problem for any of them. They were happy living on the station working the land as they had. There weren’t many trips into Alice Springs apart from the trip for supplies once a month. It was then that Callie go excited. They picked up the lessons from the post office for home schooling when they were younger, and her favorite treat of all was the magazines they brought.
While the twins had been into girly magazines, Callie’s favorite had been the Horse and Cattle Digest. She would climb up on the hay bales in the b
arn and lose herself between the pages for hours. After she’d read every single word, she would take her ever-suffering old quarter horse and put him through the paces as if she was in the rodeo and he was a stud-worthy blue ribbon winner. Her mother, an American by birth, had told her bedtime stories of the rodeo circuit and encouraged her to dream big.
As she’d grown older and more realistic, she’d dreamed that one day the farm could afford to buy stock like those between the pages of the glossy magazine. Sadly it was not to be, and the reality had hit hard when the local police had come to inform the girls of the accident that had taken both parents from them.
Her things were already packed and sitting on the end of her bed ready to go. Her passport was tucked in the side of the old canvas carry all bag along with a photo of her parents and the three girls sitting together on the old rickety veranda. She was leaning on her father’s shoulder, her arms draped over his chest and he was holding her hands, laughing up into her face. Her sisters were both perched on their mother’s lap, faces close together and hands linked. Callie couldn’t remember who had taken the photograph, but it was the only one of them all together in recent years.
The sound of a car travelling over the cattle grid by the roadway caught her attention. Her grandfather was here. She watched as he drove down the driveway, doing his best to avoid the large pot holes that jarred even her teeth. She winced as he hit a particularly big one and the bumper made contact with the red rock of the driveway.
“Callie.” Jock Cameron pulled up beside her and opened the car door, to get out and stand beside her. He held out his arms and she fell against him, giving into one last bout of tears before she said goodbye to everything she knew and loved. He patted her back as she cried and pulled out a handkerchief when she pulled away from him.
“Thanks, Grandpa. I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”
“Honey, I don’t care. I just wish your grandmother and I could do more for you. We both want you to come back and stay with us in the city, you know that. There’s no reason to go flying off to another country to make a decent living. You can do that right here in Australia.”
“No, I can’t. I’m not qualified to do anything other than run a station, as much as we might like to think differently. I’ll be okay, I promise. I might even be able to catch up with some of Mum’s family while I’m over there.”
“That would make this old man feel better. At least you have a job to go to anyway. Better than rocking up with nothing planned.”
Oh Grandpa, if only you knew what I have planned. You’d hog tie me to a fence and not let me go. But I have no other choice if I want to clear the debts on this place.
CHAPTER TWO
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I don’t see why you can’t hire on from locals. There’re plenty of guys out of work.” Tyson followed his older brother and slowed his steps to match Chance’s battle with his cane.
“It doesn’t concern you, understand?” Chance hobbled to and fro in the walk in wardrobe, riffling through his clothes rack looking for something suitable for his Las Vegas wedding. He chose a plain black jacket and trousers, a black shirt, and walked out to throw them on the bed. Then he went back and chose a pair of boots and a thin tie to match. All black like doom and gloom. Perhaps he should change the tie, try for a slightly more cheerful theme?
“It does. You’re only doing this so we don’t have to help you out. For crying out loud, Chance, we’re all brothers. We help each other, that’s how families work.”
Chance turned around, a red necktie in his hand, and stared at Tyson. He was prepared for the attitude about bringing in a new manager but not the passion his younger brother was showing or the negativity that fairly oozed from his skin. “You all have your own lives, your own ranch. I need help and I’m sick and tired of leaving my place in the hands of someone who claims to know what they’re doing and doesn’t have a freaking clue. It’s time I hired someone who knows the job and if I have to import them from overseas, so be it.”
“What, so you’re bringing someone from Australia to run it for you? I don’t believe you can’t hire somebody local. Not all useless out here.” Tyson ran his hand through his thick black hair and cursed again. “You know we don’t mind keeping an eye on things. Just can’t be here every day, but now you’re back home, you should be able to get by with just a couple of hands.”
“And that’s what I’m getting at. A couple of hands hasn’t worked in the past, but this person knows what they’re doing and has the experience to back that up. I figure it’s a safer bet.”
Tyson dropped down onto the super king sized bed and watched his brother packing an overnight bag. “What are you doing? Thought you said you were picking them up from the airport. Not like you to dress up all fancy like unless you were expecting to get laid while you were there. Doing a little something on the side, brother?”
“Mind your own business, Tyson. Now scat. Go on home to your horses and your own life. I’m fine.” He zipped up the suit bag and threw a package of toiletries into the hold all.
Tyson stood up. “Fine then. Be like that. Just wait until the boys hear you’ve gone and brought in a damned foreigner to run the place when you go back to the circuit. They’re not going to like it at all. You know how we like to keep things in the family.”
I’m not going back, ever. “Well that’s just too damned bad. You guys are the ones who wanted your own places and you’ve got enough to do. The others are living away so I can’t rely on them.”
“You know Rory lost the plot when Cindy died. He needed to get away or he would have gone crazy with everything the same and her gone.”
“Yeah well, that’s his call. This here is mine.” Chance pushed Tyson out the door and hooked the bags over his shoulder while using his cane to steady his leg.
The brothers headed down the sweeping staircase of the huge log home Chance had built six years ago just after he invested in the property. His meteoritic rise to fame on the rodeo circuit had given him more cash than he could spend on a good day, but this was his dream for the time when he was too old to ride bulls. He just hadn’t expected it to come around quite so soon.
The home was set against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains with views from the front rooms of the house over the Deer Mountain and down into the town. The two story building looked like it jutted out of the wooded hills with acres and acres of rich green pastures spread out all around it. But once you drove up the long winding driveway and got closer to the house, you could see the pine forests were set well back at the base of the mountains which were already tipped with a fine dusting of snow.
He threw his bag in the bed of the big black truck and hung the suit bag in the back of the cab. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine and so will the new ranch hand. Trust me when I say I have it all under control.”
Tyson shook his head before he looked up into Chance’s face. “If’n you say so then. Let me know when you get back home. I want to see this guy and make sure he knows what he’s doing before you go back on the circuit. Would hate to get any surprises while you’re away winning more hearts and dollars.”
“Sure.”
“Talking of which, are you going to marry that actress I saw you with on the television entertainment show? You know the one with the Barbie figure and jet black hair—Libby Tucker?”
“Not telling you any of my secrets. Now get on outta here. I have things to do, places to go.” Chance hooked his arm over his brother’s shoulder and gave him a quick man hug before pushing him toward his own truck. He watched Tyson jump into the cab and start the engine. He remained standing there long after the rumble of the truck could no longer be heard on its trip down the mountain.
The sun shone down on his face and he took the time to look around the hill at the ranch he had built up in the off seasons. The young bulls were grazing in the paddocks, oblivious to the turmoil racing through his mind. He’d wanted to tell his brother about Callie, the girl
from Australia, but he didn’t know how Tyson would react and if he’d go blabbing to the other boys. Last thing he needed was them all descending on the ranch while he was still trying to get to know his new wife. Not that it was any of their business, but the brothers were close, always had been. Especially after their mother had died young and the old man had taken to a bottle to drown his sorrows.
Chance had run away to the rodeo circuit to deal with the pain. Luckily he was damned good at it, especially the bull riding where the money was. It had been fun at first, riding and winning to the cheer of the crowds. Going from town to town winning the small points before he could take on the big guns at the rodeos where the money was better. Eventually he’d made a name for himself and he’d been hooked into the lifestyle faster than a bull out of a chute.
Guilt at leaving his brothers at home with their father tugged at him over the years and Chance always made sure they were doing okay. Because he earned good money on the circuit, it had been easy to transfer lump sums into his brother’s accounts which in turn made him feel less guilty about his wealth and leaving them in the clutches of a drunken father. It also identified him as a magnet for those who wanted to brush sides with the rich and famous, and he was never without either a model or a starlet on his arm.
He turned and gazed at the top paddock closest to the barn behind the house. The big grey bull, Terror, stood beside the fence as if he knew what was going through Chance’s mind. The same beast that had thrown him into the fence at the last championship, causing him a career ending injury, chewed his grass and ignored the man standing before him. He’d pawed at Chance while he lay unconscious on the ground keeping everyone away from him. Now he was standing looking as docile as a milking cow. But Chance knew better. He knew the sudden turn of attitude that could run through this bull at the snap of a finger for no good reason.
He was a formidable animal, solid muscle, built like a tank, and very fast. That was what made him the perfect breeder for the rodeo bulls Chance wanted to specialize in. “You’d better pay well for what you did to me, you cantankerous old bastard. When I get home, you’re going out to stud again. Let’s see if you can do better than last year. Make sure you know what you’re doing and do it well, or you’ll end up on the barbeque.”
Chance For Love (Colorado Blues) Page 1