“A month?” Bullet scratched his head. He wanted to see his little girl, there was no doubt about it. But first they were suggesting he take a week off, and then have two kids with him for a whole month when he could barely keep a handle on one.
“It’s all settled. We’re stayin’ on to help with Grey and Pearl. Bill has made arrangements for you to visit the ranch he grew up on. And while you’re there, you’ll be riding bulls.”
“Are you serious?” Bullet couldn’t contain his smile. Was this really happening? A whole week, riding bulls. This must be some kind of dream. Or there was a catch. Was he going there on behalf of Flying R Rough Stock? He’d call over and talk to Bill once he finished eating his dinner.
“Look, Guinie, he can’t help grinnin’.”
“Where am I going?” Tristan asked her father.
“It’s a place in McCoy, Colorado. They want us to do private label work for them. Enough that it warrants a trip to see them.”
But, she’d just gotten home. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about her plans, or even show him and her grandfather the designs she’d done. She couldn’t argue with him, though. If her father needed her to go, she’d go.
“Now, don’t get a pout on, little girl. You love traveling. Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me the last few years?”
He was right. She did love to travel. Or at least she used to. Now, all she wanted to do was spend a week at home.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You go get some rest. Your flight doesn’t leave until noon tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” she gasped.
“Yes, tomorrow. You’re flying into Denver, and then taking a commuter flight to Edwards, where someone from the ranch will pick you up. It’s another hour from there.”
She studied her father as he spoke. It wasn’t like him to make arrangements without discussing it with her, especially when she’d just gotten home.
“This must be some deal.”
“Yes, it is. And, Tristan, I expect you’ll represent us well, as you always do.”
“I better unpack, and then pack again.” Tristan went upstairs without hearing the conversation that took place between her father and grandfather after she left the room.
“She’s gonna be mad.”
“I know, Dad, but she needs some time off. If I left it up to her, she’d get something else in the works before I could stop her. This was the only way I could get her to take a break.”
“Mighty nice of Liv Rice to suggest it.”
“She did more than suggest it; she arranged it. Tristan will have a cabin all to herself for the week. If she wants to hibernate and work on her designs, she can. If she wants to go on a trail ride, or hike, or sit in the sunshine, she can do that too.”
“Has she shown you any of them yet?”
“No, and until she does, not a word that we know about it. Understood, Dad?”
Tristan’s grandfather chuckled. “Hasn’t been me, peekin’ at ’em when she wasn’t lookin’.”
Bill warned Bullet the ranch was a long way off the main road. “I remember the first time Clancy took me there. It felt as though we were on that old dirt road for hours.”
“It was a long, bumpy ride,” smiled Dottie. “I still remember it, although it’s been years and years since I’ve been out there. Who knows, maybe they paved the road by now.”
“Can’t say what they’ve done with the old place. It’s changed hands a number of times since Clive finally passed away. His kids didn’t want anything to do with the place.”
“In fact, when we heard Renie was workin’ a dude ranch, a couple years back, we didn’t put two and two together until we heard where it was. Neither Bill or I knew it by the name Black Mountain Ranch,” added Dottie.
Bill turned to Bullet. “Take some pictures for me, will ya?”
“Of course. And thank you again.”
The smile left Bill’s face. He stepped closer and poked his finger into Bullet’s chest. “You’ve got everything you need to be a champion bull rider. Take this week, and get the hell out of your head for a while. Focus on the buck, not the bull.”
Bullet could’ve finished Bill’s sentence for him, he’d heard it so often. This week would be different, though. He wouldn’t be checking the time to make sure he wasn’t late to pick up Grey. He wouldn’t be worried about the broncs fighting, or anything else to do with the rough stock. This week would be all about bull riding, and nothing else.
“I’ll say it again. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Dottie pulled Bullet into a hug. “You thank us every day, sweetheart, with how hard you work.”
“Well, I best head over to the house, say goodbye to my family, and get on the road. What time am I meeting the flight in Edwards?”
“You need to be there by 3:30. If you leave in the next half hour, you should have time to stop for lunch on the way.”
Bill told him the folks at the ranch had asked if Bullet would mind picking up another guest from the local airport. Since there were few guests visiting this early in the year, their staff was short-handed. Bullet didn’t mind. The fewer people there this week, the better. Now that he’d accepted he was going on vacation, the peace and quiet appealed to him.
“Uh, how will I know who I’m picking up?”
Dottie went back into the house. “I almost forgot. She’ll be looking for this sign.” She handed him a sign that said Black Mountain Ranch. “She’ll find you.”
She? Now, this was an interesting development. There would only be one other guest, and he was meeting her at the airport. The week was looking more and more promising. Bullet could use a romp with a pretty cowgirl. Maybe then he’d be able to get his mind off Tristan McCullough.
Tristan’s father told her to look for someone holding a sign saying Black Mountain Ranch. She was the only person they were meeting, and the airport was small, he’d told her. She shouldn’t have any trouble finding her ride.
“Daddy, when I get home, there’s something important I want to discuss with you. So please, don’t make any other travel arrangements for me until we’ve had time to sit down and talk.”
“No problem, little girl. You have a safe flight, and a good time.”
A good time? That was odd. She had business to conduct. He’d walked away before she could ask him about it. Must have just been a slip. Usually, he told her to come home with a pad full of orders.
Tristan breathed a sigh of relief when the flight attendant closed the cabin door and no one had claimed either of the empty seats in her row. It was bad enough that she was on an airplane again so soon. It would have been much worse if she’d been stuck with another boorish passenger who wanted to talk the entire flight.
Yesterday had been a nightmare. Harris had spent most of the flight trying to chat with her. When she put on her headphones, snuggled under her cashmere pashmina, and closed her eyes, he moved into the center seat and offered his shoulder for her to rest her head. She didn’t answer, just turned her back on him.
When he thought she was asleep, Tristan overheard him flirting with the all-too-willing-to-flirt-back flight attendant. Listening to them made her sick to her stomach. She turned the volume all the way up on her music, and it still wasn’t enough to drown them out entirely.
When they landed and were waiting to depart, Harris had tried again to woo her into having a drink with him. Instead of bothering to be polite, she simply answered “no” to each thing he asked. He hadn’t been polite when he slept with half the women at every rodeo he attended, not giving a second thought to his “girlfriend.” She didn’t need to be polite to him now.
His parting words, when he walked by her in baggage claim, were, “This isn’t over, Tristan. I want you back. I need you back.” He leaned and whispered, “We were so good together, baby. I know you want me as much as I want you.”
She’d rolled her eyes, but he had walked away. They might run into each other at various rodeos, unless she saw him first.
>
Once they were airborne, Tristan closed her eyes. Today was going to be a long one. A nap would do her good, if she could only fall asleep.
“We’re getting ready to land, miss.” The flight attendant touched her arm. How could it be? Hadn’t she just closed her eyes? Had she really slept the entire flight? Usually she couldn’t sleep at all on planes.
Tristan had a one-hour layover in Denver but needed to get to the other side of the airport to catch the regional flight to Edwards. Fortunately, many of her business trips had connecting flights in Denver, so she was familiar with the airport.
An hour later she landed at the small airport near Vail. There would be no baggage carousel. Someone would bring the luggage on a cart. Once she had her bag, she’d look for her ride.
Bullet dozed off, sitting in the airport, waiting for the flight from Denver to arrive. He woke with a start and realized he’d dropped the sign on the floor, beneath his chair. He reached down to get it, and when he straightened up, he saw a woman looking out the window on the other side of the small terminal. He rubbed his eyes. From behind she looked so much like Tristan. Wow. He really needed to get laid and get his mind off the elusive Miss McCullough.
He stood, holding his cardboard sign in front of him. He looked around the airport for any woman who appeared lost. So far everyone who had walked through had done so with the determination of someone who knew where she was going. When the woman by the window turned, Bullet’s eyes met hers.
She approached him. “I don’t understand.”
“Hi, Tristan. How are you?” he smirked.
“I’m fine, Bullet. Now, please, explain yourself.”
“Explain myself?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s going on here. How did you arrange this? A better question would be why did you do this? How in the world could you have thought this was a good idea?”
“I’m not stalkin’ you, if that’s what you think.” He was annoyed now, so he stepped around her, closer to the walkway. “I’m meetin’ someone here, to give her a ride. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see if I can find her.”
“Uh, Bullet. You’re looking for me. Or I’m looking for you. Black Mountain Ranch. That’s what your sign says, right?”
“Oh. Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You’re caught. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find out when I can catch a flight back home.”
“Wait a minute.” Bullet tried to catch Tristan’s arm, but she yanked it away. “Hold up a sec.” She walked faster down the short length of the terminal.
Bullet sat in the closest chair. One way or another, she’d be back. He’d checked the board at the desk when he came in; there were no other flights scheduled in or out today. He crossed his arms in front of him, and waited.
When he saw her stomp in his direction, he couldn’t help but smile.
“You really didn’t know you were picking me up?” she asked as Bullet threw her bag into the back seat of the cab.
“Nope.”
“And what are you doing here again?”
“Bull riding.”
“I don’t understand. My father said the owners of the ranch wanted to meet with me about private labeling some of our clothing. This is quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Yep.”
He opened her door for her, and held his hand out to help her up. She was used to getting in and out of trucks, so she ignored his offer and climbed in on her own.
“Where is this place?”
Instead of answering, Bullet handed her a sheet of paper with directions to the ranch.
“Read ’em to me.”
“You ever heard the word ‘please’?”
“Nope.”
What was his problem? It was logical for her to assume he was in on this. Did he really expect her to believe he didn’t know she was the one he was picking up? Irritated, she set the map back on the seat of the truck, folded her arms, and looked out the window. She turned back and glared at him. “I don’t know why you’re mad.”
“I don’t know why anyone has to be mad,” he grunted at her. “I didn’t know, okay? That’s the last time I’m gonna say it. And listen here, we’re goin’ to a ranch. If they call it a ranch, it means there’s lots of land. You can’t stand the sight of me? Keep away from me, and I’ll do the same.”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t stand the sight of you. What makes you think I feel that way? I just don’t think you’re telling me the truth. The two have little to do with each other.”
“You callin’ me a liar and you not being able to stand the sight of me are the same thing in my book. Now I suggest you stop with the accusations if you still want a ride. You be quiet; I’ll take you to the ranch. Deal?”
She didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question, McCullough.”
“I heard you.”
“Then answer me, or I’ll pull this truck over and you can fend for yourself.”
“Deal.”
“Good. Now, read me the directions.”
1968
“Your mama asked me to come get her and your sister,” Clancy said at the dinner table.
“You don’t mind? Couldn’t her husband drive her here, or am I that bad that he can’t bring my mama to my high school graduation?”
“Bad? Where’d you get that idea?”
“I ain’t seen my mama more than twice in the last few years. Gotta be somethin’ wrong with me.”
Clancy dropped his fork and looked at Bill. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. The problems are his fault, not yours.”
In all the years he’d known him, Bill rarely saw Clancy angry. And this time, he seemed very much so.
“It’s time you knew the truth about what’s been goin’ on.”
Bill sat still and waited. Over the last three years, Clancy had been called away from the ranch at least a half-dozen times without offering an explanation. It bothered Bill. Clancy was never secretive. When the first phone call came and Clancy told him he was going to Colorado Springs to help Bill’s mama with something, he’d asked Bill to trust that he knew best. Clancy wouldn’t say more. After all the man had done for him and his family, Bill couldn’t argue.
“Your mama isn’t married to Mr. Snyder any longer.”
“She isn’t?” Bill felt the heat rising in his cheeks. His mama had gotten a divorce and he hadn’t known anything about it? A sense of betrayal was forming in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. “What else have you been keepin’ from me, Clancy?” Bill stood and stepped away from the kitchen table.
“It’s a recent development. I just found out myself, so sit yourself back down, and I’ll tell you the story.”
12
“I’m sorry,” Tristan said, over a half hour into the drive.
“Yeah? What for?”
“For, uh…I’m not sure…whatever I said that offended you.”
“You have no idea?”
“No, not really. I know you said I called you a liar, but I didn’t.”
“Did you believe what I was tellin’ you?”
“No.”
“And what do you call someone who tells you somethin’ you don’t believe.”
“I doubted what you were saying. That’s different than saying I thought you were lying.”
“Tristan, come on. Listen to yourself. It’s the same thing.”
Tristan shook her head. “You’re right. And I am sorry, Bullet.”
“For two people who haven’t spent much time together, you and I say we’re sorry an awful lot. You notice that?”
Now that he mentioned it, she did. “I think it’s more me apologizing to you rather than the other way around.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“Will you talk to me now?”
“Yeah. I’ll talk.”
“Tell me why you’re here again.”
Bullet told her about finding Gram and his parents at his house when he got back from Cres
ted Butte, and then about Bill and Dottie arranging for him to spend a week at the ranch.
“Didn’t it seem strange?” she asked.
“Hell yeah, it did. But my whole life is strange right now. I questioned it, sure. But then, when Bill said I’d spend the week training and gettin’ on bulls, I figured what the hell?”
They rode in silence for several miles.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I told you. I’m meeting with the ranch owners about our clothing.”
“Bet that isn’t the real reason.”
“What does that mean?”
“I just wonder why you’re really here.” Bullet laughed.
“I’m not here because you’re here. That’s for damn sure.”
He laughed again and shook his head. “Let me ask you this,” he began. “Is there something you want for yourself? Something someone knows about, and also knows that you never put what you want before everything else in your life?”
“Yes, there is,” she murmured, but her father knew nothing about it, so while bull riding might be why Bullet was here, for her, this was a simple sales trip.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
Bullet raised an eyebrow in her direction.
“It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you specifically. It’s just not something I’m ready to talk to anyone about.”
“So you haven’t told anyone what it is?”
“I didn’t say that. I did tell someone.”
“Who?”
“Liv. And…”
“Who? Come on, just tell me.”
“Your sister. And Dottie knows too.”
“I’m here to work on my dream. Maybe you are too. What’s your dream, Tristan? Just tell me.”
It took her a long time to answer, but finally, she had to admit it wasn’t anything to make a big deal out of. What would it hurt to tell him? “I’m designing a new line of clothing.”
“That doesn’t sound much different than what you’re already doing.”
He was right; clothing was her business. But this was different. This was for her.
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