Rodeo Queen

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  “One step at a time. And I might be able to help with step one.” He squeezed her hand. “I visited Stevens’s son this week. To thank him for working with us. He feels terrible for what his dad did to you and he’d like to meet you and apologize.”

  “None of it was his fault.”

  “I know that and you know that, but he still feels responsible.”

  “And you think my meeting him would help him.”

  “And you. This may sound crazy, but maybe talking things through could get you both past everything that happened.”

  “I’ll think about it.” She pressed her clicker and her lights flashed. “Here’s my car.”

  “I’ll see you at the rodeo next week. What about your horse? How do you get her to the rodeo?”

  “Lane brings her in his trailer with his horse. I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  “No problem.” He tipped his hat as she got in her car and started the engine.

  She’d softened over the past three weeks. When he’d initially seen her at Cowtown, she’d been so anxious to be rid of him she’d ditched him and put herself in danger. Even when he’d first taken her to Medina, she’d wanted to avoid him.

  But now she welcomed his company. As long as he didn’t get too close. Out of fear, but he’d take it. Could there still be a chance for them?

  There had to be. The past week without seeing her had been torture, and he couldn’t face an entire lifetime without her. Why had he ever thought he could?

  * * *

  For the first time since the attack, Caitlyn sat astride Lightning at Cowtown Coliseum. Her nerve endings danced, even though Mitch stood beside her. Come to think of it, he was probably part of the reason for her nervousness. She gripped the reins tighter.

  “You’re fine.” He patted her booted foot. “I’m right here and I’ve got a loaded gun.”

  She laughed. “And that’s supposed to make me feel safe. I’m terrified of guns.”

  “So are the bad guys.” He shot her a wink.

  And her heart went into orbit.

  The music began—“God Bless the U.S.A.” Another deep breath and she relaxed a bit. She gently dug her heels in Lightning’s sides and the horse shot into the arena.

  Stuart Stevens was not out there watching her. But was someone else? She shook her head. Even if someone else was out there, Mitch was here. He’d keep her safe.

  “I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.” The ridiculous mantra calmed her as the song came to a climax and she urged Lightning to charge around the arena as they’d done countless times before.

  And before she knew it, she’d carried her final flag of the evening, her duties done as the rodeo wound down.

  Mitch waited for her at the gate and it took everything she had to keep from diving into his arms as he helped her dismount. He gripped her gently by both shoulders and turned her to face him.

  “You’re okay.”

  “Thanks.” She nodded. “I’m really not sure I could have worked tonight if you weren’t here.”

  “Glad to be of service, ma’am.”

  His cowboy charm almost did her in. As her heart raced, she tried to think of something other than him. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’d like to meet with Stevens’s son.”

  “I’ll contact him about setting up a meeting and call you. With his class schedule, it will probably have to be on a weekend.”

  If she didn’t know better, she’d say disappointment dwelled in his eyes.

  Had he thought she’d been thinking about their future? Truth be told, she had. But no matter how many times her heart and brain spun with possibilities, they had no future.

  * * *

  “Four rodeos down. You did great the past two weekends.” Mitch opened the door to Caitlyn’s store and held it for her. The bell dinged as they stepped outside to the crowded brick streets of the Stockyards.

  “I still don’t think I could have done it without your gun there.” Caitlyn sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do when you start having to work weekends again.”

  “By then you’ll be back to normal, not a care in the world.” He hoped. It tore at his soul to see fear in her eyes. Even though her fear kept him around.

  “I don’t even remember not having a care in the world.”

  He touched her hand, expecting her to jerk away.

  But she didn’t.

  Encouraged, he threaded his fingers through hers.

  She let him.

  Progress. He smiled.

  “So are you sure this kid isn’t anything like his dad?” Her hand trembled beneath his.

  “Nothing whatsoever.” He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “The man who bought my folks’ ranch got guardianship of him until he started college. He’s a Christian and he’s studying to be a vet.”

  “Quinn Remington. A good man. Sounds like Stevens’s son broke away from his father’s shadow.” Her hand trembled again. “How did they catch Stevens? You never told me.”

  “I set up his son as a lure at Quinn’s place. After Stevens left his brother’s house, he went there.”

  “You put his son in danger?” Her hand stiffened in his. “Not to mention his guardian.”

  “Relax. The place was crawling with rangers. When Stevens showed up, they were waiting for him. He caught on and ran to the next ranch, but there were too many civilians in the area to make a safe arrest.”

  “And folks think nothing ever happens in Aubrey.”

  “Most folks never knew anything was going on.” He squeezed her hand again. “Stevens stole a truck and rangers followed at a distance until he stopped at an abandoned rental house in Fort Worth, where he’d apparently been living. You know the rest.”

  “It must have been very hard on his son to set him up like that.”

  “He didn’t want his father to hurt anyone else.” He led her across the street toward Cowtown Coliseum.

  “We’re meeting with him here?”

  “I thought, since this is where the whole thing started, meeting with Trent here might ease some fears. I’ll be close the whole time.” He squeezed her hand again.

  “Don’t you have anything else to do when you’re not working other than babysit me?”

  “Nope. And it’s my pleasure.” He stopped at the steps. “Ready?”

  She nodded and her grip tightened.

  He could get used to this. If only it didn’t take fear to convince her to put up with him.

  * * *

  A whole swarm of butterflies did somersaults in Caitlyn’s stomach. What if Stevens’s death had triggered some kind of rage in his son? What if he blamed her for his dad’s death? What if he looked like his dad—the face that haunted her dreams?

  But Mitch was with her. He’d keep her safe. And her safety might endanger him.

  The greeter, Lonnie, dressed in cowboy gear provided by her store, stood at his post by the door of Cowtown. “Afternoon, Caitlyn. You’re in early.”

  “I’m meeting with someone.”

  “I believe he’s here. Young fella was asking about you.”

  “Asking about me?” Her stomach took a dive.

  “Just if you were here yet.”

  Mitch squeezed her hand.

  “Oh. Okay, thanks. We’ll find him.”

  As they stepped inside the lobby out of the bright sunlight, she couldn’t see a thing other than spots for a minute or two. Her eyes adjusted slowly. A dark shape took form and walked toward her. She gasped.

  The boy gasped, too. “I didn’t realize how much you look like my mother. I mean—the last time I saw her, anyway.”

  At least the boy seemed harmless—apprehensive, but not threatening
in the least. And, thank goodness, he didn’t look like his father. Same height, but his face and body were fuller. His hair was much darker, his eyes were a vivid pool-blue and, most important, his eyes were kind.

  “This is Caitlyn Wentworth. Caitlyn, meet Trent Stevens.”

  A group of tourists entered.

  “Let’s go to the dressing room.” Caitlyn dug the key out of her purse.

  The hair along the back of her neck stood on end. Since that last letter, she’d been unable to walk through Cowtown without feeling that someone was watching her. Even with Mitch trailing her.

  She unlocked the dressing room and ushered both men inside.

  “I’m sorry—for my dad. Sorry is nothing after what he did to you. But—”

  “It’s not your fault.” Her voice trembled, but at least she’d managed to speak.

  “Somehow, I thought meeting you—telling you how sorry I am—I thought it might make me feel better.” His shoulders slumped and his gaze dropped to the floor. “But, I don’t know what to say to you. Sorry doesn’t seem like enough.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. Why don’t you tell me about you? Your life? Your mom? If you want to, that is. Here, I’ll start.”

  She gave him a short summation of her life, leaving out any mention of scary letters or his father.

  “You might know Quinn—the man who saved my life.” Trent settled in a folding chair, his eyes on the floor.

  “I know Quinn through the rodeo. And his wife. Lacie has shopped in my store for years.” The world seemed to keep getting smaller. “They’re good people. I’m glad they were able to help you.”

  “My life with them is like light compared to dark.” He picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “For as long as I can remember, my dad hit my mom. He always threatened to kill her if she left. And especially if she tried to take me with her.”

  Caitlyn touched his hand.

  “I kind of thought it was normal, I guess.” He hiked up one shoulder. “Until I got in church and saw how men treat women. I didn’t become a Christian until I was seventeen, and by then I’d made a lot of mistakes.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you had an example to go by.”

  “I didn’t. But that’s no excuse. I took advantage of girls and got one pregnant.”

  “You have a child?” She tried to keep the shock out of her voice. He was so young.

  “By the time the girl learned she was pregnant, I had a new girlfriend, so she gave our baby girl up for adoption. I know the adoptive parents.” His voice caught. “I’ve watched her grow up—from a distance. It’s hard to stay out of her life sometimes, but she’s happy.”

  “You’re very wise for your age.”

  “Her parents promised to tell her who I am when she gets a little older.”

  “They sound very wise, too.”

  “They are.” A thread gave way and the hole in his jeans got bigger. “I have a girlfriend at school. She’s a Christian and we’re honoring God in our relationship, but her dad hates me.”

  “Why? I just met you, but you seem like a great guy.”

  “He knows about my past, so he thinks I’m bad news.”

  “Just give it time.” She patted his shoulder. “Time will prove you’re worthy of his daughter.”

  “That’s what I’ve been doing, but so far I’m not getting anywhere with him.”

  “You’re right to honor her father. But don’t ever give up on love.”

  Caitlyn glanced at Mitch. Exactly what she’d done—given up on love.

  “Did I honor my father? I mean, I testified against him and put him in jail.”

  “You kept him from hurting you or anyone else.” For a while, anyway.

  “It didn’t help you.”

  “It’s over now.” She said it with more conviction than she felt.

  “I’m glad. I was going to testify against him again in your case. But now that will never happen.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her gaze dropped to the floor.

  “I’m not. I was dreading facing him again. Part of me is glad I won’t ever have to.”

  “I’ve felt the same way.” Caitlyn’s voice quivered. “And then I feel guilty. I’m a Christian. I shouldn’t be glad someone’s dead.”

  She looked up. Trent stared at her. Her stomach twisted. Had her honesty made him angry?

  “I’m sorry. You can’t imagine how much you look like my mom.”

  “Do you have a picture of her?”

  “I do.” Trent fished his wallet out and handed her a worn photo.

  Same facial shape, coloring and long dark hair.

  Caitlyn gasped. “How long ago was this taken?”

  “I was seven.”

  And now he was eighteen—making his mom the right age. Could it be? “I think your mom might be my missing aunt.”

  Chapter 10

  Why hadn’t Mitch ever thought to mention the possible family connection to Caitlyn? Such a strong resemblance must mean a blood tie, but he’d gotten so caught up in Caitlyn he’d forgotten all about Camille.

  Had the meeting been a good idea? Caitlyn clung to Mitch’s hand during the walk back to her store. Quiet. Too quiet. Her heels clicking against the brick streets was the only sound she made.

  He cleared his throat. “You okay?”

  “Just shaken.”

  “Why did you never mention your missing aunt to me? Even back when we were...”

  “I knew the mystery would intrigue you, and it upsets Mama to talk about it.” She shrugged. “Should I tell her Trent’s mother is probably her missing sister? I don’t want to get her hopes up.”

  “Let’s do some research first. I can check our cold-case database. What was her maiden name?”

  “Prentiss. Millie Prentiss.”

  “You got a minute? My laptop’s in the truck right over there.”

  “The store’s in good hands. Let’s go.”

  For the first time since her attack, fire returned to her eyes, blotting out the fear. Maybe her aunt’s disappearance could redirect her focus.

  Caitlyn walked beside him with her old independent, confident poise. No looking over her shoulder.

  Lord, please help her recover.

  He never thought he’d miss her stubborn determination, but he did. He unlocked his truck. “The database is top secret.”

  “No problem.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against his truck bed. “Just tell me if Trent’s mom is my aunt.”

  Mitch pulled up the missing persons cold cases and typed in Millie Prentiss. A file popped up. Camille Prentiss. He opened it. A picture of Trent’s mom stared at him. Disappeared at sixteen without a trace on March 17, thirty years ago. Rumors of a possessive, older boyfriend at Cowtown Coliseum, where she was last seen. Her family reported Millie had never come home from the rodeo where she’d competed as a barrel racer.

  “Anything?” Anxiety rang in Caitlyn’s tone.

  A tap of the mouse enlarged the picture to fill the screen. He stepped out of his truck. “This is Camille Prentiss, also known as Millie.”

  Caitlyn’s hand flew to her mouth. “Of course. Why didn’t I realize before? Mama always shortens people’s names. She calls me Caitie. Natalie is Nattie.”

  “Camille. Millie. And Stevens shortened it to Cammie.”

  “Stevens was the possessive boyfriend.”

  “Probably.” He flipped the laptop shut. “My guess is he forced her to leave with him. I’m going to headquarters to officially open her cold case.”

  “Thank you.” She closed her eyes.

  “We’ll do our best to find her.”

  “What if he killed her?”

  “Don’t think that way.” He cup
ped her cheek in his hand.

  “I don’t want to, but she’s been gone for thirty years. If she left him, why didn’t she come home?”

  “Because he threatened to find her and kill her. She wouldn’t have gone anywhere obvious. And she wouldn’t have done anything to endanger her family.”

  “You really think she’s alive?”

  “Stevens has several crimes on his record—mostly assault and battery. But he never killed anyone—that we know of.”

  “He certainly tried to do me in.” She shivered.

  “It could be argued that your wounds were self-defense.” Mitch pulled her into his arms. “He probably wished he’d never tangled with this wildcat. Try to think positive.”

  “But I don’t want to get my hopes up, just in case.” She pulled away from him. “What about my mother—do I tell her?”

  “Opening up a thirty-year-old missing-persons cold case in the wake of the death of the victim’s husband will probably hit the papers. You might want to prepare her. Want me to go with you?”

  “Could you?”

  He grinned. “Just tell me when.”

  “I work right up until rodeo time tonight. How about tomorrow morning?”

  “Done. In the meantime, I’ll be back later to head to the rodeo with you.”

  “I really appreciate you.” She checked her watch. “Better get back to the store. I’ve been so distracted—I have to focus.”

  “One step at a time.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.

  And he’d be there for each step.

  * * *

  Columns lined the porch on a bigger version of her own dollhouse next door. Caitlyn hurried toward her parents’ house, trying to keep some space between her and Mitch for a change. She had to pull herself together. Stop leaning on him. Stop holding his hand. Stop loving him.

  His hand grazed hers.

  “Any updates on Millie?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “We just opened the investigation. Give it some time.”

  “So what’s being done? An all-points bulletin? What?”

  “Impressive with the lingo.”

  “I watch cop shows.” She shrugged. “I never dreamed my life would mirror one.”