by Joan Kilby
“We’re talking about Cody Starr, right?” Flo said, still skeptical.
“Bull rider. About six foot two, dark hair, tattoos, scar on his cheek.” Sexy eyes. Why was it so hard for Flo to believe that Cody would do something so nice? Granted, very few people would make a gift that large but Flo seemed to think Cody wasn’t capable of doing anything good. Were they even talking about the same man?
“That’s Cody,” Flo confirmed with a shrug. “What’s your name, honey? If I see Cody I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
“Kelly Reid,” she said. “This is Ricky.”
“Excuse me.” An older, heavyset woman with gray hair wearing a fuchsia and teal blouse peered around the back of the neighboring booth. Adjusting her glasses on her nose she studied Ricky and then turned to Kelly. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Did you say Cody Starr donated his winnings to give this young man a heart operation?”
“Yes,” Kelly said, surprised at this blatant eavesdropping.
“I find this very interesting,” the woman said. “I would never have believed Cody capable of such public-spirited and unselfish behavior. Tell me more.”
“Tell her and it’ll be all over town within the hour,” Flo warned behind her hand. Rolling her eyes, she left to put in their order with the kitchen.
“Pardon me, but who are you?” Kelly asked the other woman politely even though inwardly she was annoyed at the intrusion.
“I’m Carol Bingley.” Dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she scooted out of her seat and stood next to their booth. “My husband is the pharmacist in town. If you need any medication for your son my hubby can help you.”
“Ricky doesn’t need to take medication anymore. Thanks to Cody,” Kelly added pointedly. “To us, he’s a hero.”
“Cody’s the best,” Ricky agreed. “He’s going to come back to Reno next year and I’m going to watch him bull ride. He said I could.”
“Well, don’t bank on it too much, sweetie.” Carol spoke kindly enough but there was a tiny spike of poison in her tone. “Cowboys don’t always follow through, if you know what I mean. And Cody, well… Are you staying to watch the rodeo?”
“I don’t know yet,” Kelly said. So it wasn’t just Flo who had a bad opinion of Cody. This version of Cody conflicted with what she knew of the man. Which, when she thought about it, wasn’t much.
“Did I hear you tell Flo you were a waitress in a diner in Reno?” Carol went on.
“I don’t recall,” Kelly said blandly. She could tell when she was being pumped for information and she didn’t like it.
“Cody certainly has an eye for a pretty girl,” Carol added, giving Kelly the once-over. “Careful, honey, he can be charming but he’s left a string of broken hearts in his wake.”
Kelly pointedly turned away from Carol and started reading to Ricky from the inside of the plastic-coated menu about the history of Marietta. It was a relief not to be looking at Carol. That loud print blouse made her eyes hurt. She hoped she wouldn’t have to listen to the woman much longer, either.
Carol hovered a moment more and when Kelly made no response to her comments, she made a harrumphing noise. “Now, where is Flo with my check?” She headed off to the cash desk.
A few minutes later Flo came back with their breakfasts. “Don’t pay any attention to Carol. She’s a blabbermouth but she’s harmless, most of the time.”
“I can look after myself.” Kelly moved her water glass so Flo could put down the plate. “This food looks amazing.”
While they ate, Ricky chattered excitedly about the coming rodeo. Kelly listened with half an ear, her mind returning back to things Flo and Carol had said about Cody. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Cody was a ladies’ man. A lot of rodeo riders were and he had that sexy look about him, that something extra. If she was smart she would be on her guard.
On the other hand, she, just as much as Ricky, had been denied a normal life for years. There’d been one or two high school boyfriends and in college she’d met Ricky’s father. Then she’d become a single mother with no time or money to be socially active. Not many men were interested in a woman with the responsibilities she had. Consequently most of her Saturday nights over the past six years had been spent at home watching a kids’ movie with Ricky. Or all too frequently, sitting by his bedside in the hospital.
As for sex…what was that? She hadn’t begrudged a minute of caring for her boy but now that Ricky was healthy…
She really hadn’t come here for any other purpose than to thank Cody. But now that she thought about it, the rodeo rider might be just the guy to break her man-drought… If she were looking for a relationship his reputation would definitely put her off but she wasn’t and the frisson of risk held a certain attraction…
Oh, for goodness’ sake. She had been driving too long. A fling with a bad-boy cowboy was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard of.
Or was it?
Chapter Three
Friday morning, the mountain air was crisp but the clear blue sky promised a warm day ahead. Kelly and Ricky left the motel on the outskirts of town and walked down Main Street to watch the rodeo parade. Colorful floats, marching bands, clowns on unicycles and rodeo queens riding in convertibles proceeded slowly past the cheering crowds lining the street.
While Ricky scrambled after candy thrown from the floats, Kelly scanned the crowd for Cody. Not a sign of the elusive cowboy. The idea of having a fling with him had taken firm hold overnight and now she couldn’t get it out of her mind. There were a dozen reasons why it might not happen, including the possibility that Cody might have already hooked up with another woman, or he might not be attracted to her, and the biggest impediment of all, a certain adorable little boy who went everywhere with her, twenty-four seven.
But she could fantasize. If she was honest, she’d been fantasizing about Cody since he’d walked into her diner two months ago. His gleaming dark eyes and sexy smile, that lock of black hair curling over his forehead, were never far from her thoughts.
Yesterday, after leaving the diner, she and Ricky had gone looking for him at the rodeo grounds. When she’d asked for him at the office the woman behind the counter had told her that Cody Starr hadn’t yet registered and would likely not arrive until tomorrow. That is, today.
After the parade, Kelly took Ricky’s hand and they walked with the rest of the spectators along the path through the park next to the courthouse and across the footbridge over the river to the fairgrounds. The Grand Opening Ceremony began with the unveiling of a life-sized bucking bronco statue and then moved into the rodeo grandstand where a young blonde woman sang “America The Beautiful” followed by speeches and presentations.
Kelly kept her eyes alert for Cody. There were lots of families with young children, courting couples, retired couples and clusters of single young men and women. But no Cody that she could see. Maybe he wasn’t even here yet.
*
Cody pulled into Marietta around one p.m. and parked his rig in the camping area next to the rodeo grounds. He registered at the office and did the necessary paperwork. He’d missed the parade but the Grand Opening Ceremony and rededication of the rodeo stands, rebuilt after last year’s fire, was in full swing judging from the amplified voices coming from that direction.
He lingered a moment outside the gates to admire the new copper-plated life-sized statue of a cowboy on a bucking bronco. Eventually the copper would take on a greeny-gray patina with age but right now it was as shiny as a new penny, gleaming and glinting in the warm afternoon sun.
He probably should head inside to the ceremony. The organizers liked the contestants to make a showing and have a photo op with kids. But it had been a long drive from Jackson Hole and five hours since breakfast so instead he continued on over the footbridge into town and made tracks for Grey’s Saloon. The bar was practically empty because everyone was at the ceremony but that suited him for the moment. He ordered a double cheeseburger and fries with a local draft beer and for
the better part of an hour just chilled out.
He was looking forward to the Copper Mountain Rodeo and a weekend in Marietta. The rodeo was small and friendly and this felt like a second hometown even though he’d been raised in Sweetheart, a couple of hundred miles to the west. Tonight he would sink a few brews with his buddies and tomorrow morning, whup some bronco ass.
Around two o’clock, the first cowboys starting filtering in from the Opening Ceremony.
“Hey, Cody. Thought I’d find you here.” Boone Telford’s wide smile lit his face beneath his longish blond hair. He slapped Cody on the back and slid his rangy frame onto the next stool at the bar. “Heard about your big win in Reno. Congrats. Did you buy yourself that new truck you’ve been talking about?”
Cody’s gaze dropped to his beer glass and he stroked a fingertip through the condensation. “Nah, I lost all the money at the casino the same night. Bet it all on a single roll of the dice.”
“Man, that’s crazy, even for you.” Boone signaled to the barman. “Bottle of Big Sky and a chaser of Jack.”
Cody shifted uneasily on his stool. Despite his tendency to occasionally flout the law he wasn’t a liar. And he especially didn’t tell fibs to friends or family. But ever since he’d made up that cover story, the tale had been embellished at every subsequent rodeo to the point of being almost unbelievable. His reputation as a wild man had attained legend status.
Boone took a swig of beer, still incredulous. “You didn’t save any of it?”
Time to change the subject. “I heard Bob Johnson sold up his bull ranch and retired to Arizona. Any idea who bought his stock?”
“Some dude in Colorado, apparently. The bulls are still on the circuit, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact, some are here in Marietta.” Boone punched Cody in the arm. “You can’t escape ol’ Baby Huey.”
Cody snorted at the suggestion he wanted to escape. “Just give me another crack at the beast. Third time lucky.”
Baby Huey was the biggest, baddest bull west of the Mississippi. He gyrated and bucked like a black tornado. Few cowboys could stick to his back for the requisite eight seconds. Cody had ridden him twice and fallen at five and six seconds respectively. He was hoping for a chance to ride him again this weekend.
The saloon doors swung open and Flynn O’Connell planted his lean muscular legs on the threshold and brushed a hand over his beard scruff as he glanced around. Seeing Cody and Boone, he sauntered over.
Cody tipped his hat to him. “Well, look who the coyote dragged in.”
Flynn’s green eyes flashed with amusement. “Hey, Cody. Robbed any convenience stores lately?”
“One or two,” he joked. Flynn was referring to a previous Copper Mountain Rodeo but this aspect of his reputation was fake news. Cody, after consuming a few too many at the Saturday night dance, had put a couple of loose cans of beer in his jacket pockets at the convenience store so the cold didn’t hurt his hands. Then he’d absent-mindedly walked out, forgetting about them when he paid for his burrito. Unlike his buddies, the security guard and the night manager hadn’t seen the funny side. Cody had been hauled down to the police station and charged with petty theft until the store owner, whom Cody had known for years, arrived and dropped charges.
He’d never deliberately done anything illegal and there was only one thing in his whole life he truly felt ashamed of. Yet his ‘bad-boy’ persona had grown over the years. Now it defined him. At times it was convenient—no one expected anything from him. When everyone else was busy volunteering to clean up the rodeo grounds or door knock for charity he could slink away and work on a braided rawhide bridle or overhaul his truck. It made him feel like crap about himself sometimes but who the hell wanted to be a do-gooder?
Shane Marvell arrived next and the gang exchanged more good-natured insults. Cody laughed easily, relaxing among friends. They competed against each other, sure, but there was a camaraderie, too, that he loved about rodeo.
The saloon doors swung open again and Dean Maynard swaggered in, looking more like a western clothing model with his blond, pretty-boy looks than the rugged real deal the rest of the guys were.
“You boys drinking without me?” Dean high-fived the lineup, so cocksure of his welcome everywhere he went that he didn’t notice no one was smiling back at him or that the high spirits of a moment before had taken a nose dive.
Cody turned away slightly as Dean inserted himself into the group, giving the guys little choice but to step back and make room. He tolerated Dean but he didn’t like the way the other cowboy was so full of himself. And Dean’s casual-bordering-on-callous treatment of women was notorious. Dean was a top competitor and Cody’s main rival in bull riding but Dean had been partying too hard this past year and his ranking had slipped. Instead of changing his ways and working harder, he’d just become meaner and more entitled.
Dean pulled out his phone and called up a screen, showing it around the circle. “Y’all seen this? It’s all over social media this morning. Cody’s a goddamn Mother Teresa.”
“What are you talking about?” Cody took the phone and Shane, Flynn and Boone craned in to look.
A photo of Kelly, blonde and pretty, her cheek pressed to Ricky’s and both of them beaming, filled the screen. Beneath was written: Rodeo rider Cody Starr’s $65K tip to waitress allows her sick son to get heart operation. “He’s a hero,” says single mom. #BadBoyMakesGood #CopperMountainRodeo
Crap. Cody’s cheeks burned.
“Why, Cody,” Flynn said, chuckling. “You’ve been hiding your light under a bushel.”
“So that’s what really happened to your prize money.” Boone gave a hearty guffaw. “All this time we thought you were badass.”
“Turns out you’re a freaking Girl Scout,” Shane hooted, grinning.
While Cody’s friends were only teasing, Dean put a sneer in his voice. “Bet your mommy’s proud of you.”
Mom, hell. She followed the rodeo Twitter feeds for news of him in competitions. When his family got wind of this he would have a lot of explaining to do after telling them he’d blown the money at the casino.
“Dudes! This is Cody we’re talking about,” Dean said. “He was just trying to get into this gal’s pants. You know single moms. They’re panting for it.”
“Don’t talk like that about her,” Cody growled. “Kelly’s had a rough time.”
“Ooh! Protective much?” Dean waggled his fingers like a teenage girl. Then raised a sly, knowing eyebrow. “Or are you worried someone’s going to step on your turf?”
“She and her son have driven all the way from Reno to Marietta to thank Cody in person,” Shane said, reading from a blog post linked to the tweet.
“Say what?” Cody grabbed the phone and skimmed the rest. He groaned. Sure enough, Kelly and Ricky were actually here in Marietta. In one respect that was great. He’d wanted to see Ricky and find out how he was doing. And he’d thought about Kelly with surprising frequency over the past couple of months. Although not his type, she was pretty in a wholesome, freshly scrubbed way, and she’d stuck in his mind like the scent of honeysuckle on a summer breeze.
But news getting around of his gift to her wasn’t good, not good at all. Why did she have to go and draw attention? He’d been looking forward to kicking up his heels in Marietta.
Mom and son were going to cramp his style big-time.
*
At last the final speech ended to rousing applause. The crowd began to disperse, flowing out of the grandstand to the rodeo grounds, or to the riverfront park, or back over the footbridge to Main Street.
“Let’s go buy you some cowboy boots,” Kelly said to Ricky. Most of the boys she’d seen were wearing boots and some kids even had big shiny rodeo buckles weighing down the belts on their dungarees. Probably they belonged to their dads or uncles but the boys strutted around as proudly as if they’d won them themselves.
“Oh, boy!” Ricky crowed. “Can I get a hat, too?”
“Why not? I might get o
ne, as well.”
They walked back to Main Street, which was still blocked to traffic and full of pedestrians. The western-style facades were reminiscent of the town’s pioneer days and in honor of the rodeo, many store windows were decorated with lariats and spurs and bales of hay.
Kelly checked her watch. Just after two o’clock. Cody might have arrived. She might run into him accidentally as they roamed up and down the street. The thought put an extra spring in her step.
“Mom, look,” Ricky said, pointing at a display of chocolate goodies. The sign over the door read, Copper Mountain Chocolate shop. “Chocolate cowboy boots.”
There was one package left. Kelly reached for it at the same time as a slender woman of medium height with a high red-blonde ponytail.
“Go ahead,” Kelly said to the woman but noted Ricky’s crestfallen expression. “We’ll find something else,” she said in an aside to him.
“We’ll share.” The woman smiled at Ricky and hurried inside to pay for the box before Kelly could protest.
A moment later, she emerged, ripping off the plastic and pulling open the box. She held it out to Ricky. “Go on.”
Ricky looked at Kelly. She nodded and he took a chocolate boot.
“What do you say?” Kelly prompted.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He happily bit off the toe.
“I’m Piper,” the woman said, holding the box out to Kelly.
“Kelly. Thanks.” She unwrapped and bit into a chocolate. “Mm, these are delicious.”
“Since we’re sharing, we have to eat them all now, you realize.” Piper started strolling down the street.
“It’s very nice of you but if we’re sharing, let me pay for half,” Kelly said.
“No, my treat.” Piper waved her offer away. “Are you from around here?”
“No, are you?” Kelly licked a speck of chocolate off her finger.
“I’m a masseuse for the rodeo,” she said. “I have a tent set up over by the fairgrounds.”
“I bet you have cowboys lined up at your door for you to work your magic fingers over them.”