Under a Rodeo Moon

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Under a Rodeo Moon Page 2

by Roni Adams


  Dusty raised one eyebrow. “That so? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  She handed him a plastic cup. “The beverage machine is over there on the wall. Help yourself to as many refills as you want. We’ll bring your order out when it’s ready.”

  Dusty smiled at her and stepped away. She was cute in a baby-sister kind of way. He thought about his sister. He probably should give her a call, but a quick glance at the clock over the counter made him change his mind. His buddy Zane and his baby sister had become regular old married folks, and even though they claimed they went to bed early because of Free’s pregnancy, he suspected it was also because the couple seemed unable to keep their hands off each other. A fact he had gotten used to much faster than he ever thought he would.

  ****

  Carrie purposely waited until she knew CoraBeth was busy at the register before she walked through the back door and up the stairs to her apartment. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially her nosy friend who would pry the whole story out of her.

  She’d tried to get in to see Dusty, but the security guards wouldn’t let her back where the private trailers were parked. Apparently, after a series of break-ins at the arena, the owner had hired some beefy security guards. No matter how much she smiled and pleaded, they refused to be swayed and refused her access without calling Dusty first. Carrie knew he’d never clear her to come back there, and then he’d know she was in town. He’d made it more than clear in Cheyenne that he never wanted to see her again. When she’d gotten up the nerve to call him, the cell phone number she had was disconnected. That pretty much told her he was serious. She’d have to confront him face to face or he’d run. That was the whole reason she’d up and moved to Wayback. Sooner or later she knew Dusty would head here to compete.

  Wayback had quickly become “the” rodeo to compete in, with a purse that grew larger every week. She’d paid attention all those months ago when he mentioned it and said he was planning to compete there again. She thought she was crazy to move here simply on the chance to get to talk to him once more, but she had nothing else to lose. She’d already lost him.

  In her apartment, she kicked off her good boots and sat down at the computer. With a few keystrokes, she pulled up the Wayback Rodeo schedule for the weekend and slid her finger down the listing. Bull riding was in the second half of the night. She had to work until seven, but she’d have plenty of time to get out there and watch him compete.

  Bile rose in her throat at the thought of seeing him on a bull again, but if she had any chance at working things out she’d have to get used to it.

  She spun away from the computer. “Who am I kidding? I don’t even know if he’ll give me the time of day, and I’m talking about making it work.” Basically, if he’d just look at her, she’d be happy. Dusty was stubborn, though. As tough on the inside as he was on the outside, and she’d said some pretty unforgivable things to him. ’Course, he’d given it right back to her, but she knew she’d crossed the line when he said he never wanted to see her again. He meant it. At the time, so had she. But life without Dusty was brutal. She missed him and realized too late how insanely in love she was with the big, blond bullhead. Life without him wasn’t what she wanted.

  Drumming her short fingernails on the desk, she worried her lower lip. What if he was already over her? What if he realized that life without her was preferable to life with her? Had he forgotten the nights when she’d be waiting for him after the rodeo? Gotten over the times she’d hung around so they could steal a few kisses under a rodeo moon? She dropped her head into her hands. It was too late to back out now. Her job was gone, her apartment, and even her sports car. All sold or given up on for this slim chance that he’d talk to her again.

  Someone knocked at her front door, and she frowned. Had Dusty found her? She shook her head. That was crazy. He didn’t even know she was there. Still her heart sped up as she crossed the floor to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Sam.”

  She opened the door. “Hey.”

  Sam’s eyes widened.

  Self-consciously she remembered she was still in a dressy blouse and newly pressed jeans. She lifted her chin, but didn’t offer any explanation. “What’s up?”

  He handed her a covered container. “The special tonight was your favorite. Figured I’d bring you the leftovers rather than toss them out.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “CoraBeth sent you to check to see what I was doing.”

  Sam shrugged. “Okay, I guess I’ll take this chicken and dumplings back downstairs with me.”

  Carrie grabbed his massive forearm. “Let’s not be hasty.”

  Sam relinquished the plate and Carrie set it on the small table next to the door. The large man’s bark was far worse than his bite, something she’d figured out less than an hour after she started working for him.

  “You okay?”

  Carrie brushed her hair back and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Honest. I’ll be down in the morning to open up.”

  He seemed like he wanted to say more, but instead he shook his head, turned, and left.

  Carrie closed the door, picked up the plate of dinner, and carried it to the living room. She didn’t think she had to worry about Dusty coming into town tomorrow. She knew his routine. He’d spend the entire day practicing, maybe even check out the bulls that would be used in the rodeo or some new horses. He’d be completely focused on the rodeo from now until Saturday night. She picked up a fork full of dumplings. Where would she be next week at this time? In the arms of the man she loved or still eating alone?

  ****

  The noise of the crowd included children laughing and mothers calling out warnings for them not to get too far away, cowboys’ deep voices talking among themselves about the stock and the riders, and older men retelling tales of days gone by. The smell of animals mixed with deep-fried foods, popcorn, and the damp hay that covered the ground formed a unique ambience that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Carrie couldn’t help but feel a little bit like she was back where she belonged. In the year that she and Dusty had been together, she’d been in more rodeo arenas then she could name anymore. When things blew up in Cheyenne, she told herself she was glad to get out of that world. Now she felt as if she’d come home again.

  “I can’t believe you finally agreed to come with us.” Sally linked her arm through Carrie’s as they walked through the crowd.

  BobbiJo pointed toward a stand. “Look there’s my family’s booth. Come on.” BobbiJo was only loosely related to the Zykov family that owned Cranky Hank’s, as was her cousin Franky, who’d moved up to shift manager of the kitchen when old Mr. Z had retired a few months earlier. In a town like Wayback, though, even distant relatives were still family. Carrie wanted that kind of connection for herself some day.

  The three women scooted through the crowd to stand in front of the kiosk that housed Cranky Hank’s portable restaurant. “This is the first year we’ve decided to try this, and so far it’s been such a huge hit. Hey, Franky, how’s it going?”

  BobbiJo went behind the booth, picked up a couple of sandwiches and some canned soda, and slipped back out.

  Her cousin waved a spatula in her direction. “You better not hang around here too long, or I’ll put an apron on you and your friends. Hey, Carrie, you look great tonight.”

  “Hey, Franky, thanks.” Carrie knew that BobbiJo’s cousin wanted to ask her out, and she was dreading the day. BobbiJo was a good friend, but Carrie had no interest in any other members of her family.

  “I’m going. Forget you ever saw me.” BobbiJo waved, grabbing a pile of napkins.

  “Oh, I’ll forget you easy enough, but not your friends.” Franky winked at Carrie and Sally and then went back to serving his customers.

  Carrie took the sandwich her friend handed her. “Thanks, but let me pay you for this.”

  BobbiJo shook her dark head. “Nope, it’s on me. To celebrate your first rodeo.”

  “Franky likes you. You
know that, right?” Sally interjected, taking her own sandwich from BobbiJo.

  Carrie shook her head. “I’m not in the market for a boyfriend.”

  BobbiJo laughed. “Well, I am, and there are some yummy ones here tonight. Come on, let’s find our seats.”

  Carrie half-hoped, half-dreaded she’d spot him, but by the time they’d reached their seats, she hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Dusty or his brother, Grey. The National Anthem began to play while the U.S. and Texas flags were presented and paraded by on horseback.

  “I can’t believe the seats you got us tonight,” Sally exclaimed, sitting down after the traditional start of the event.

  BobbiJo grinned. “I went all out for Carrie’s first time.”

  Carrie shook her head. “I told you, I’ve been to rodeos before, just not this one.”

  “Okay, then I got these seats because they have the best view of the bronc busters and the bull riders. That’s my favorite part.” She turned to face her friends, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “Did I tell you about the blond Adonis who came in to the restaurant a few nights ago? He said he was one of the bull riders. I promised him I’d cheer him on.”

  Carrie’s heart skidded in her chest. She paused with her can of diet soda halfway to her lips. “When was that? You didn’t say anything about meeting one of the bull riders.” It had to be her bull rider. How many others could be described as a blond Adonis?

  BobbiJo frowned. “I guess I forgot. It was a couple nights ago. I don’t know his name, but I definitely will recognize him. He was yummy!”

  Suddenly the cowboys paraded in on horseback and waved to the crowd. Carrie was close enough that she could see their faces as they went past. She watched as one horse after another went by, and the rodeo clowns threw candy out to the crowd. When the bull riders barreled out, the crowd rose to their feet and cheered and whistled for the men who in a few minutes would try to ride two thousand pounds of pure fury. Dusty’s friend Matt was in the lead and right behind him was Dusty riding a massive palomino. Carrie’s mouth went dry and the entire arena faded away when she spied him. She didn’t recognize the shirt he wore, but the dark brown Stetson on his head was as familiar to her as her own boots. She could still smell it as he slapped it on her head and tossed his arm around her shoulders after an event. God, she missed that hat.

  “There he is!” BobbiJo shouted next to her. “That’s the bull rider I met.”

  Carrie barely heard her. Her chest hurt and she couldn’t breathe. Dusty waved to the audience, ducking his head at their thunderous applause and touching the brim of his hat to salute his fans. Directly in front of her, he looked up and their gazes collided. His brow furrowed for the half second that their gazes locked. His horse continued to go forward, and he twisted in his saddle to look back. He was probably thinking that she looked like someone he knew. Within seconds he was gone. Carrie’s knees shook and she slid down to her seat.

  “Car? Carrie, honey, you okay?” BobbiJo grabbed her arm. “You look like you saw a ghost. What’s wrong? I mean, I know they’re good-looking guys, but even I’ve never reacted like that to them.”

  Carrie forced a smile and fanned herself with her program. “I’m sorry. I just got lightheaded there for a second.”

  Sally shoved the bag of chips she was eating at her. “Here, have some chips, eat your sandwich. Knowing you, you probably worked all day and didn’t take a lunch break.”

  Carrie nodded and took a chip out of the bag. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She opened her barbecue sandwich and took a nibble, but the butterflies in her stomach weren’t just flying around, they were attacking one another. He looked good. Better than good. He looked fantastic.

  Suddenly, what had seemed like a great idea was terrifying. She couldn’t do this. All this time and now she had cold feet.

  Her eyes burned with tears of frustration. She was a chicken. He’d made it very, very clear that they were over and to chase after him now like some buckle bunny was idiotic. After the show, she’d tell the girls she was sick and make a hasty getaway. Dusty would never know if she was just a girl who looked like the one who dumped him or the real thing. He’d compete in the show until he was done and then he’d leave town. She could hide in her apartment, put on a wig or something when she had to go out.

  She’d successfully avoided his sister, Free, for the past few weeks. It had come as quite a shocker when Dusty’s baby sister moved to town and married Zane Malone. Carrie had known Zane came from Wayback, but she’d counted on him staying on the circuit. She hadn’t counted on him getting Free pregnant and showing up with his new bride to settle on the family ranch. Fortunately, the couple had been in the diner only once, and she’d been able to slip out before they spied her.

  The crowd went crazy as the first barrel racer flew into the arena. For the next hour, all Carrie could do was pretend to be interested in what was happening, all the while praying hard that Dusty’s ride would be a good one, an easy one, and he’d come off unscathed. This was familiar territory, nothing she hadn’t done all last season. She drew a deep, steadying breath and when intermission came, she bolted for the ladies’ room. The bull riders were up next, and she needed to get herself under control to be able to watch him.

  ****

  Dusty wrapped his hand, then unwrapped it, and rewrapped it. It couldn’t have been her, had to have been an illusion. What the hell was she doing here?

  He knew it was her. There was no one who looked like Carrie. The dark hair that hung to her shoulders like fine silk, the turned-up nose, and full lips. He closed his eyes. He imagined and even smelled the lotion she used to wear. Yeah, it was her. He opened his eyes and cussed. He needed this ride tonight; he needed the cash. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. What the hell did she want?

  “Hey, you ready?”

  Dusty nodded as he was handed a number. He was second to last in the line-up. He’d gotten a good look at the bulls earlier in the day, and he knew which one he wanted and which one he definitely didn’t want. Devil’s Own was as red as his name implied, and he looked like he had been put on earth just to mess up a cowboy for life. No, he didn’t want to draw him. If he had his choice, he’d have the white one, Lightning. That one didn’t seem too bad. He’d read up on his bloodlines and stats as he had all the bulls that would be used tonight.

  As he entered the area that only contenders were allowed to enter, he couldn’t help but remember times when Carrie had been there before he rode and waited for him after. Even if all he had time to do was smile at her and wink, she’d been there. Until she wasn’t.

  He jerked his thoughts back to the present. He needed to get his focus on this event. He watched as his buddy, Matt, climbed up into the chute and straddled the bull. The other man rode good and hard, but didn’t make it the full eight seconds.

  Dusty climbed the stand to get to the booth where he would mount the bull. As he positioned himself, he forced himself not to look up and out into the crowd. The angry beast jerked and twisted between his thighs as he settled himself into position. He’d lucked out and drawn Midnight Sun, and was fairly confident he was a good match for this black bull.

  When the chute opened and they shot out into the arena, he realized immediately the ride was going to go wrong. It felt uneasy right from the first second. His balance was all off, and all he could do was cling awkwardly and hope he could stay on for as long as possible, but the bull jerked and spun and he landed in a disgraceful heap on the ground. Instinctively, he rolled away from the lethal blows of the bull’s hoofs. The clowns dealt expertly with the raging beast. On his feet again, Dusty waved to the crowd, who applauded even though the ride was a mess. The ride had gone the way it had for one reason. What the hell was she doing in Wayback, Texas? He brushed off his buddy’s hand on his shoulder and pushed through the doors to the public arena.

  She’d been sitting in the lower section, but before he could get there, he saw her race out the door that led to the pa
rking lot. Like hell was she going to get away! She’d ruined his ride, and he’d be damned if she was going to walk away without getting a piece of his mind.

  His hand wrapped around her upper arm and dragged her to a stop. “Not so fast!”

  Chapter Two

  Carrie gave a shocked cry and stumbled in the gravel of the parking lot. “Oh!” she yelped.

  His grip held her upright, but she jerked to get free.

  Dusty stared into brown eyes he never thought he’d see again. Inside, his heart raced. Had she always been this beautiful? Her skin was as soft as the down on a peach.

  What the hell was she doing here? He could understand if he was back in Cheyenne, or even in her hometown, although he’d avoided that rodeo venue altogether a few months back. But how the hell did she end up in Wayback?

  “Let go of my arm.” She tried to pry his fingers from her.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  She flipped her head up and glared at him. “I came to talk to you, but I changed my mind.”

  He frowned. “I just changed it back.”

  She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, and he tried hard not to let it affect him. God, she was so hot, and he’d gone so long without her. Not that he’d ever admit it again. She’d stomped all over him last year, and he wasn’t about to let her do it again.

  “I tried to call, but you changed your phone number.”

  He tipped his head and dropped his hand from her arm. “Most folks would figure out that meant I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes. He waited for her to say something, but she crossed her arms over her chest and set that stubborn chin of hers.

  He tipped his head and studied her hard. “When a woman comes after a man and says she wants to talk, the first thing that comes to his mind is that he’s gonna to be a daddy.” He trailed his eyes down her figure, lingering on her curves, but taking note that her stomach was as flat as always. “You don’t appear to have that problem.”

 

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