What followed was unlike anything Dana had ever seen before as one cowboy after another exploded out of the chute on the back of a thousand pounds of bucking horseflesh. It was the most amazing thing to watch and she was caught up in it until she heard the announcer call Chay’s name. Suddenly, what had been fun and exciting took on a whole new dimension. It had been one thing to watch strangers get thrown, but she knew Chay Lone Elk personally and that made all the difference in the world.
She leaned forward, hardly daring to breathe, as the chute opened and a big black horse came out bucking for all it was worth.
Ashley stood up, screaming, “Go, Chay! Yeah, Chay!” She looked down at Dana. “Isn’t he great?”
“Great,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from Chay. He stuck to the saddle like glue, one arm raised over his head, his body rocking back and forth as the horse bucked and pitched. After what seemed like eight years but was only eight seconds, the whistle blew and the pickup man rode up alongside Chay.
Dana blew out a deep breath, relieved that it was over. Only it wasn’t. Next came bareback bronc riding, then calf roping, then steer wrestling and then bull riding. Dana thought each event was worse than the last. Riding a bucking horse was bad enough, but then Chay came out on a bull that looked madder than hell and must have weighed two thousand pounds. And he won every event but steer wrestling, where he came in second.
Ashley yelled and screamed when they announced Chay had won the top prize of the day and Dana stood beside her, yelling until her throat hurt. For all that she had been scared to death the whole time, watching Chay ride had been the most exciting thing she had ever seen.
Moments later, he was taking a victory ride around the arena. Dana felt her heart turn over in her chest as she watched him wave to the crowd and then he was riding toward her.
Dismounting, he ducked under the bars of the corral and scooped her into his arms. The shouts and cheers of the crowd faded into the distance as he lowered his head and kissed her.
Dana felt her cheeks grow hot when the announcer said, “You can come up for air now, cowboy. Eight seconds has come and gone.”
The crowd roared with laughter.
Chay kissed her again, then left to get cleaned up and change clothes for the barbecue.
Ashley linked her arm with Dana’s. “Come on, let’s go find a table.” She glanced at her friends. “You coming?”
“No,” LuAnn said. “We’ll catch up with you later. Megan has to go eat with her parents and I told Brittany I’d help her watch her little sister while her mom nurses the baby.”
“All right,” Ashley said. “See ya.”
The air was redolent with the scent of barbecued beef. The tables had been cleared of leftovers and now groaned under the weight of sliced beef, platters of corn on the cob and bowls of potato and macaroni salads, baked beans and baked potatoes, an assortment of rolls and bread and green salads.
Chay joined them a short time later. Taking her by one hand and Ashley by the other, he led the way to the front of the food line. “Winners always eat first,” he told Dana with a wink.
Dinner was a lively, noisy affair. The air was filled with conversation and laughter. Dana laughed along with the other women at the table as Chay exchanged stories with the cowboys sitting on either side of him. They talked about bad broncs and rank bulls, about hauling hay in the middle of winter and breaking through ice to get water. They made jokes about being stomped and gored and snake-bit, about stampedes and breech births and why any man with any brains would work with cattle, surely the dumbest creatures on God’s green earth.
“I don’t know who’s dumber,” one of the women said, grinning, “the cows or the women who love the cowboys.”
At that, one of the men started singing “Mama, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” then yelled “Ouch!” when his wife punched him on the arm.
After most everyone had gone back for seconds, or thirds, things quieted down a bit.
And then, as a man picked up a microphone and climbed up on a chair, the crowd broke into a round of applause.
Dana looked at Chay.
“That’s Big John,” Chay said. “He’s about to make his yearly speech.”
Dana studied the man. Big was an apt description, she thought. He was well over six feet tall, with a shock of dark brown hair, bushy brown eyebrows, a nose that had been broken at least once and a strong, determined jaw. Like most everyone else, he wore jeans, a plaid cowboy shirt, boots that probably cost more than her apartment and a Stetson.
“Welcome, friends and neighbors.”
His voice was big, too, she thought.
“I hope you’re all having a good time, and that you got enough to eat!”
Whistles, applause and shouts of affirmation rang out from the crowd.
“I’m glad to hear it!” Big John exclaimed. “’Cause if you’re still hungry, it sure as hell isn’t my fault!”
Someone called, “Forget the sweet talk, you old horse thief, and tell us how old you are.”
“It’s a running joke,” Chay told Dana. “Every year, people try to find out Big John’s age.”
“What’s the big secret?” she asked.
Chay shrugged. “Beats the heck out of me.”
“Do you know?”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Chay replied with a shrug.
A pretty, blond woman wearing a bright red, low-cut sundress sashayed up beside Big John and took the microphone from his hand. She nodded to the band and they broke into a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday.” The crowd began singing as two men came forward carrying the biggest cake Dana had ever seen.
Wearing a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon, Big John blew out the candles.
“Hey, John,” called a man in a big black hat, “what did you wish for?”
“None of your business!” Big John hollered back, and then he looked at the lady in the red dress and waggled his eyebrows.
“That’s a mighty young heifer you’ve got there,” Black Hat said. “You sure you can handle her?”
“Damn right!” Big John said and, sweeping the blonde into his arms, he kissed her soundly.
The men in the crowd hooted and hollered.
Big John came up grinning. “I’ve had my dessert,” he said. “You all help yourselves to yours. The dancing will start in about thirty minutes. Ladies, feel free to change into your dancin’ duds up at the house.” He slipped his arm around the blonde’s waist. “You all have a good time now, hear? Oh, we’ve got plenty of guest rooms if any of you get so soused you don’t want to drive home.”
This announcement was met with more applause.
“I’m gonna go get some cake,” Ashley said. “Do you guys want some?”
“Yes, thanks,” Dana said.
Chay shook his head. “Bring me a beer, will you?”
“Okay.” Rising, Ashley headed for the cake table.
A moment later, Big John made his way toward their table with the blonde hanging on his arm. “Evenin’, Chay.”
“John.”
“Who’s this pretty little filly?”
“Big John, this is Dana Westlake. Dana, this is Big John.”
“Happy birthday,” Dana said.
Big John smiled at her. “Westlake? You’re not related to Elsa, are you?”
“She was my grandmother.”
“Wonderful woman. We were sorry to lose her.”
“Thank you.”
“How are your parents? I haven’t seen them since they were up here, oh, when was it? Last year, I think.”
“They’re doing well, thank you.”
Big John nodded. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“Thank you.”
She watched Big John walk away, then glanced at Chay. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Not much.”
“I think I’d quit if I were you. Why work for someone you don’t like if you don’t have to?”
He shru
gged. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just a sucker for punishment.”
Dana stared at him a moment, then frowned. Chay didn’t look anything like Big John and yet there was something…before she could put her finger on it, Ashley returned carrying two enormous pieces of cake and a bottle of beer.
She set the plates on the table, handed the bottle to Chay, then plopped into her chair.
“What’s wrong?” Dana asked.
“Everything.”
Chay took a swig of beer. “What’s bothering you now?”
“I’m bored.” She glared at him. “If it wasn’t for you, Nick would be here tonight.”
“I don’t want to go into that again,” Chay said.
“Of course you don’t. My life is ruined, but why should you care?”
Chay glanced past Ashley. “Cheer up. Here comes Brandon.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “Brandon! He’s about as exciting as vanilla ice cream.”
“Hey, Ashley,” Brandon said, coming up behind her. “Are you going to the dance? Hi, Chay.”
Ashley blew out a sigh. “Of course I’m going.”
Chay glared at Ashley, warning her to mind her manners before saying, “Dana, this is Brandon DeHaven. Brandon, this is Miss Westlake.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Westlake.”
“Thank you, Brandon.”
“Come on, Bran,” Ashley said, rising. “Let’s go find the girls.”
Dana stared after the young couple as they disappeared into the crowd. “I thought she liked him.”
“I thought so, too, but that was before she met Nick.”
“Ah, yes,” Dana said. “Nick, the bad boy. Why is it young girls are always attracted to boys like that?”
Chay shook his head. “You tell me.”
“I was asking you.”
“Beats the hell out of me. All I know is that Nick is trouble and she’s chasing after it with both hands.”
Dana had been inside nice homes before but Big John’s house was unlike anything she had ever seen. The rooms were huge, the furniture comfortable and obviously expensive, as were the paintings on the walls and the sculptures on the shelves.
A maid escorted Dana to a guest room. “Just ring if you need anything,” she said before closing the door.
Decorated in shades of hunter green and mauve, the room was quite lovely, with a king-size bed, a full-length mirror and a bathroom with a sunken tub.
Dana washed her hands and face, applied fresh makeup, then changed into the dress she had brought with her. Slipping on her sandals, she studied her reflection in the mirror. The dress complemented the color of her hair and skin, but she knew it was the prospect of dancing with Chay that had put the glow in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks. How had he become so important to her so fast? She was perilously close to losing her heart to a man she had met less than three weeks ago, a man she was afraid was keeping a secret from her. Though he had told her about his mother, she was certain that he was keeping something from her, but what? She hoped she was wrong.
She ran a brush through her hair, then left the room.
Chay was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. He had changed clothes, too, and now he wore a pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved white shirt, a black leather vest and black boots. He looked good enough to eat.
The dance was held outside under a huge canopy. A six-piece band was playing a slow country tune when they arrived. The long tables had been taken down and a bar had been set up. Four bartenders handed out drinks and jokes. Colored lights ringed the dance floor. Several dozen couples were dancing while other guests conversed in small groups or stood at the bar, talking and laughing.
Chay nodded at the dance floor. “Shall we?”
She nodded and he led her onto the floor, then drew her into his arms. She nestled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. It felt wonderful to be in his arms, to feel his body brushing against hers, his breath warm upon her cheek. She felt cherished, protected, in a way she never had been before. It was a good feeling.
Sensing his gaze, she looked up, her eyes meeting his. Neither spoke. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and then he was lowering his head toward hers. She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips, her stomach fluttering in anticipation of his kiss, a kiss that was pure and sweet and achingly sensual all at the same time. A kiss that made her pulse race and her knees weak. His arm tightened around her waist and she grinned inwardly, wondering if it was passion that caused him to hold her closer or if he knew the effect his kiss was having on her and he was trying to keep her on her feet.
Gradually, she became aware that the music had stopped. Opening her eyes, she blinked up at Chay. He was grinning at her. At first, she didn’t know why, and then she realized they were surrounded by couples, all of whom were watching them with varied expressions of amusement.
She felt a rush of heat climb up her neck into her cheeks when she noticed that Big John and the blonde in the red dress were standing nearby.
“You two better find a room or set a date,” Big John suggested, his voice booming in the sudden stillness.
Dana felt her blush deepen.
Chay glowered at the older man. Taking Dana by the hand, he led her off the dance floor and into the shadows beyond.
“He’s a fine one to talk,” Chay muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing it again,” Dana said.
“Doing what?”
“You’re muttering under your breath about Big John. Honestly, I don’t know why you work for the man. You’re a top hand. I’m sure you could find another job.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I could.”
“So, why do you stay?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
“But not tonight?”
“Not tonight.” He blew out a deep breath, then drew her purposefully into his arms. “I can think of a lot of things I’d rather do than talk about that bullheaded old man,” he said, and kissed her.
There was nothing remotely gentle about this kiss. It was bold and possessive and it drove every thought from her mind but her need to be held in his arms, to feel his lips on hers.
When he drew away, she knew she was lost. In spite of everything, she was falling in love with Chay Lone Elk.
Chapter Eleven
A loud pounding on the front door woke Dana from a sound sleep. Reaching for the lamp beside her bed, she turned on the light, grabbed her robe and hurried through the dark house to the door.
She peeked through the curtain that covered the front window, then quickly unlocked the door.
“Chay! It’s after three o’clock. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” A silly question, she thought. He wouldn’t be there at such an hour unless something was wrong.
“Have you seen Ashley?”
“Not since the party. Why?”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?” She stepped back. “Come in.”
He followed her into the living room. Removing his hat, he ran a hand through his hair. “It looks like she’s run away. I didn’t think she’d come here, but I had to make sure.”
“Why do you think she’s run away?”
“Her bed hasn’t been slept in. The old man called the girls. None of them has heard from her since they left the ranch last night.”
“But why would she run away?”
“She had another fight with Big John. Apparently he caught her making out with Nick behind one of the barns.” Muttering an oath, Chay removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit, I didn’t even know Nick was at the party. I should have kept a better eye on her.”
“Are you supposed to chaperon her all the time?” Dana asked. “I thought you only had to do that when she was away from the ranch.”
“I’m responsible for her.”
“Why?”
“Because the old man doesn’t give a damn what she does most
of the time.” He jammed his hat back on his head. “I’ve got to go. I’m not going to find her hanging around here.”
“Do you think she ran away with Nick?”
“If she did, I’ll kill the little weasel. I told him to stay away from her.”
Dana nodded. Looking at Chay, she felt a sudden fear for Nick. “Do you want me to go with you?” she asked, thinking she might be able to calm Chay down if they found Ashley and the young man together.
“Sure, if you want.”
“Just give me a minute to get dressed.” Going into her bedroom, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweater.
Chay was pacing the floor when she returned to the living room. Moments later, they were in the truck heading toward town.
“Do you know where Nick lives?” Dana asked.
“Yeah. He’s got a room over one of the bars on Main Street.”
“You seem to know a lot about him.”
“Everybody knows about him. He’s the town bad boy.”
“What if she’s not with him?”
“I hope to hell she isn’t, but it’s the only place I can think of that she might go.”
“Does she stay in touch with her mother?”
“Sure. Jillian writes to her once a month or so. Jillian remarried a couple of years ago, some guy who sells RVs in Salt Lake.”
“Would Ashley go there?”
“I don’t know. She might.”
A short time later Chay pulled over and parked in front of a rather seedy-looking saloon called the Dirty Shame.
Chay opened the door for her; then, hand in hand, they walked around the corner of the building to a flight of rickety wooden stairs. When they reached the top, Chay knocked on the door. If Nick was home, he would know, from that knock, that it wasn’t a friend coming to call.
A couple of minutes passed before Nick opened the door. A cigarette dangled from a corner of his mouth, his hair was uncombed, he was shirtless and barefoot.
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