Reunited with the Bull Rider

by Christine Wenger

  Reed was simply content to ride through Beaumont with Callie, seeing old haunts and marveling at new construction—new to him at least.

  His stomach growled and Callie laughed. “I think you’ll like Poppa Al’s Restaurant, Reed. Their specialty is chicken parm. It’s delicious.”

  “Chicken parm sounds good to me,” he said.

  They both got out of the car and, as he retrieved his crutches, he cursed the famed Cowabunga under his breath for his damaged knee.

  “What’s the matter?” Callie asked. “You doing okay?”

  “I’m sick of these crutches already. I could go without them, but it hurts like the devil. Hell, it hurts like the devil with them.”

  “Then use the crutches, Reed.” Callie jogged a few steps ahead and opened the door to make it easier to pass through.

  He walked through. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  A man came out from behind the bar, took Reed’s hand and began pumping it. “Well, if it isn’t Reed Beaumont, the great bull rider! It’s about time you visited my place.”

  It took a split second for Reed to recognize Alphonse Giacomo. They’d played football together on the high school team. According to the Beaumont Bulletin, which he read online to keep current with the happenings of his hometown when he was on the road, Al had gone on to play professionally, but an injury had forced him to retire.

  “And Callie Wainright!” He pulled Callie into a big bear hug. “It’s good to see you again. My Susan was just talking about hiring you to keep our books straight. She doesn’t trust me to do it correctly and thinks we’re going to land in federal prison. That’s my wife, five feet three inches and one hundred twenty-five pounds of total worry.”

  They all laughed.

  “Have her call me.” A business card appeared in Callie’s hand and she held it out to Al. He took it and slipped into the pocket of his checked pants.

  “We’ll call you for sure, Callie.”

  “So, you’re Poppa Al?” Reed asked, adjusting his crutches.

  “Guilty as charged. I only wanted to open a spumoni stand, but look at this!” He spread his arms wide to show how big his place was. “I can hold two wedding receptions at the same time—or one huge one.”

  Al looked from Callie to Reed and back again. His thick black eyebrows rose as he rubbed his hands together in glee. “So, are you here to book your wedding?”

  “Uh...um...” Callie began, a blush starting on her neck then settling on her cheeks. “No.”

  Reed just laughed. “We’re here for your chicken parm.”

  “You’ll love it,” Al said. “I make it from scratch. And I’ll make you an antipasto to share. It’s on the house. Now sit. Sit in the first booth. It’s very romantic.”

  Al disappeared through swinging metal doors and Reed turned to Callie. “Shall we sit in the romantic booth?”

  Callie shrugged. “Al seems to have made up his mind that we’re to sit there.”

  Unlike Reed, Callie didn’t seem to be enjoying Al’s funny misunderstanding. Reed winked. “Then let’s not disappoint him,” he said as he hung his crutches from the coat hook.

  They both slid into the red vinyl booth with the white Formica table. “I hope we don’t get indigestion from the romantic booth,” he added, grinning.

  “It’d be a shame if we did. It would spoil the experience.” Callie’s eyes twinkled.

  Reed enjoyed her lighter mood.

  He looked around and was impressed. “I didn’t know Al Giacomo owned this place.”

  “Al just opened a couple months ago. In another hour, there’ll be a line around the building. The word is out that if you want a good meal in Beaumont, go to Al’s.”

  “This is a nice surprise, Callie. I’d lost touch with Al. Actually, I’ve lost touch with many of my pals in Beaumont. Too much traveling, another circle of friends and I don’t get home all that much.”

  “How long are you going to be here this time?”

  “Probably three months. I’m planning on going back after the summer break. Since I’m healing, I figure it’s my turn to work on the ranch. Luke did the majority of fixing up the ranch house after Hurricane Daphne, along with the barn. I am going to do more work on the barn and supervise fixing up the ramrod’s house. Luke said it needs a new roof and some remodeling inside. Then Jesse will take his turn and work on an addition to our bull breeding facility, and a new bunkhouse for the hired hands. The old one’s coming down.”

  “You’re just about rebuilding the whole ranch.”

  A waitress came and dropped off frosty classes of water. “Hi, Callie.”

  “How are you doing, Darlene?” Callie said then turned to Reed. “Dar’s grandparents retired here and Dar is living with them for the summer. She’s working and going to Oklahoma State in the fall.”

  “Nice. What are you taking up?” Reed asked.

  Her cheeks turned pink. “Um, uh...in hospital...hospitality, I mean. Hospitality.”

  Reed made eye contact with Callie, whose hands were over her mouth. She knew Darlene was having a hard time being a cool fan, whereas Reed was used to different reactions.

  Some fans were terribly nervous; others were blatantly sexually aggressive. Luckily, more were nervous. He could deal with those fans, but the young ones who came on to him? Well, those made him nervous.

  Darlene turned to Reed and giggled. “Uh... I’ve never done this before, but could I have your autograph, Reed?”

  “Sure!”

  “Wait here. Don’t move!” she ordered.

  Callie burst out laughing then sobered. “We’re eating here, so we’re not going to move. Did she forget that? I wonder if it’s your celebrity or your handsomeness that has Darlene so overwhelmed.”

  “It’s both. I’m sure it’s both,” Reed deadpanned, then raised an eyebrow. “But you think I’m handsome?”

  “I...um...uh...”

  Darlene returned out of breath and saved Callie from more stammering. She handed Reed a white foam take-out box.

  “A take-out box?” Callie grinned. “But, Darlene, we haven’t had our meal yet.”

  “I know, but this is all I could find for Reed to sign.” She handed him the box and a ballpoint pen. “J-just don’t press too h-hard or you’ll p-punch a hole in the top.”

  He wrote his usual “Thanks for being a fan! Best wishes, Reed Beaumont” then added the city and date. He also added her name.

  Smiling and holding out his hand, he waited several seconds before she realized what to do. She wiped her hands on her black apron and then held one out to him. They shook as she grinned widely.

  “I am sorry to bother you again, but can I take a picture of you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She positioned her cell phone and pushed the icon several times. “Thanks, uh... Reed.”

  “But don’t you want to be in the picture, too, Darlene?” Reed asked.

  “Can I?”

  “C’mon.”

  Without a word Darlene handed her cell phone to Callie.

  Callie stifled another grin. “Sure, I’d be glad to take your picture with Reed.

  Callie took four pictures of Reed sitting in the booth with Darlene next to him, then handed back the phone.

  “Thanks, Reed.”

  “You’re welcome, Darlene.”

  Darlene scurried away, her cell phone next to her heart.

  Every once in a while, Callie realized what a celebrity Reed was. Not only did he receive bags full of fan mail, but obviously women fawned over him. Everyone knew that he was a real athlete in a very dangerous sport, but to Callie, he was Reed Beaumont, the man who chose riding bulls over her. Reed sat back in the booth. “Sorry about that.”

  “Sorry...about what? Oh, you mean about Darlene? You were very sweet to her. She’l
l remember this moment for a lifetime.”

  “I hope not.”

  “I was her age once. I know.”

  “Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes. The PBR and you, I think,” she said.

  “Since I had the summer off from the PBR, I wanted to catch a couple rides on some of the other circuits so I could boost my points, but my injury put a halt to those plans.”

  Callie nodded. “If you do what you’re supposed to, you’ll be healthy for the PBR when things start back up. It’s only the end of May. You can do it if you’d stay off of it and rest.”

  “Will you hold my hand if I have to go to the hospital?”

  “Oh! The brave, big-shot bull rider is too chicken to have surgery!”

  “No,” he said quickly, softly. “I’m just too chicken to go to the same hospital where my mother died.”

  Callie met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reed. I didn’t think.”

  He put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. I was the one who didn’t think.”

  She put her hand over his. “Obviously it’s bothering you. You could go to another hospital.”

  “And not go to the one that Great-Gramps Cyrus Beaumont built? I’d be drummed out of the family, or what’s left of it.”

  * * *

  SHE REMOVED HER hand when the antipasto came and he felt deprived of her warmth. He knew she was only embarrassed for what she’d said, but he liked the feel of hers over his.

  He looked down at the large platter. A mountain of lettuce was heaped high, a display of various meats, cheeses, tomatoes, tuna and veggies artfully piled on top.

  Reed sighed. “Does Al expect us to eat all this plus a meal?”

  “Yes. He does.” Callie picked up the big fork and spoon on the side of the platter.

  “No wonder it’s the romantic booth. We could live here in this booth for a week eating one meal.”

  “You on one side on the booth and me on the other?” Callie giggled. “That’s not very romantic! We should be on the same side at least, just like the front seat of a car.”

  “I remember many great times with you in the front seat of my car!”

  She laughed.

  Reed thought Callie’s playful spirit was slowly returning and that made him glad. She seemed so sad sometimes, and guilt would overwhelm him as he was responsible for some of that.

  He remembered how Callie was always hell bent on helping others and working hard, and he loved that about her, to a point. He didn’t want her to overextend herself and make herself sick. On top of that, he knew how much she anguished about her mother’s health, worried about her brothers and paying for their injuries, and was anxious about keeping a roof over all their heads. Nothing ever changed with her.

  But all that angst was part of Callie, but so was the laughter and joy, and the latter was what he wanted to bring out. He wanted to make her smile and laugh and forget about her worries for a while.

  The chicken parm came on two more platters, one for Callie and one for Reed. A mountain of spaghetti was stacked on the side.

  “It’s amazing that you, Jesse and Luke are the first three in the standings. What are the odds of that?” Callie asked twirling some spaghetti with her fork.

  Reed tried the chicken. Delicious. “I don’t have a clue about the odds, but I like the fact that the Beaumont Big Guns are in the top three. And Luke was even going to retire after he got married, but I’m guessing that he’s going to give the Finals another go. So, he’s riding in another circuit to keep in the game while on an extended honeymoon. Amber is traveling with him and they are having a great time. She loves it.”

  Callie sat as still as a statue.

  “We could have had a great time, too, Callie.”

  She shook her head. “My father left us with thousands of dollars in credit card debt from his gambling addiction before he split for Tahiti with Tish Holcomb, rich widow and my father’s latest meal ticket. Besides, Reed, admit it—we were too young.”

  “We might have been young, but we were certainly mature.” He sighed. “Your father should have paid his own debts, not saddle you and your mother with them.”

  “I agree, but most of the cards were in my mother’s name, and the creditors were tormenting us.”

  He sighed. “You could have followed me at any time. We talked about that, but I didn’t hear from you and I missed you.”

  “The phone works both ways, Reed. You could have called me, but the Beaumont grapevine said that you had the company of your buckle bunnies.”

  “There weren’t any buckle bunnies—at least, none that I’d have liked to spend my life with.”

  There was silence as they both played with their spaghetti.

  He tossed down his fork and gritted his teeth. “Amber, I could have helped you.”

  She shook her head. “It was my responsibility.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” He exhaled a loud breath. “Is your mom okay now?”

  “No. It came back. She’s going through chemo now.” Tears stung her eyes. “Can we please change the subject? Let’s go back to bull riding. It’s mostly neutral.

  “Yeah. Okay.” Reed twirled his spaghetti with his fork. “How are your brothers doing? They have to be—what?—seniors in high school by now.” He was still reeling. He hadn’t known Mrs. Wainright had breast cancer again.

  “The twins are great. They both got football scholarships. John is going to Notre Dame and Joe will be playing at the University of Southern California.”

  “Fabulous. I can’t wait to see them play.”

  “They are both fans of yours. They’re hoping you beat Luke for the championship in Vegas.”

  “So do I, but if I don’t and he gets a fourth victory, it’ll be a record that’ll stand for a long time. That is, until I beat it.” He laughed. “Jesse will ride the best he can, too. Maybe he’ll be the one who’ll beat Luke. But, as the saying goes, one cowboy against one bull.”

  She smiled slightly. “One cowboy against one bull. And one woman against one bull rider. I have to get back to work. I can’t be playing all the time.” She paused for several uncomfortable seconds. “And Reed, I think we should maintain a business relationship only. No more personal questions.”

  Reed raised an eyebrow. “Every woman I know likes to talk about herself.”

  Callie shook her head. “I don’t.”

  “I guess I stand corrected,” he said. “We’ll limit our conversation to sex, drugs and rock and roll, but not if it pertains to ourselves.”

  “Exactly.” Callie nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “Then let’s talk about sex.”

  * * *

  CALLIE PUSHED AROUND a piece of chicken on her plate and wondered what on earth she should do.

  But she didn’t want to bare her soul to Reed. She’d done that way too many times with other men.

  She’d told herself that she was going to take a break from men, and she’d meant it, and that included the amiable and happy-go-lucky Reed Beaumont.

  Maybe she was only rowing with one oar, but she was going to stick to her promise to herself: concentrate on her business. Maybe someday she’d get her dream of going back to college.

  “What did you say, Reed?”

  “You look a million miles away.”

  “I guess I was,” she said. “I guess I was just thinking.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to share.”

  “No. It was nothing important. And it wasn’t about sex.”

  Maybe indirectly it was about sex or lack thereof.

  Callie was glad when Darlene returned with their take-out boxes and plastic bags. Callie put what was left of her meal into the containers. Reed did the same.

  “This is going to be breakfast tomorrow,” he said, and Callie belie
ved him. Inez, the cook at the Beaumont Ranch, had just left for vacation.

  Al returned, wiping his hands on his apron. “I always think when I work, and I think that you both are perfect together. So, let me show you my new reception halls.”

  Reed looked at Callie and raised an eyebrow. “Shall we, darling?”

  Callie wasn’t amused.

  “Uh... Al...we have only become reacquainted for—” he checked his watch “—about three hours so far. As much as I like Callie, I don’t want to rush things. Right, honey pie, my sweetheart darling?”

  She tried not to laugh, she really did, but Reed always had a way of making her heart feel lighter, happier.

  “Well, my beloved, I think we should leave before Al has us picking out a menu for our reception,” Callie joked.

  “Maybe we need to pick out rings first!”

  “First, you need to go down on one knee,” she instructed.

  “I can’t. I have a torn meniscus.”

  Callie looked up at the ceiling, painted with a landscape of Venice’s Grand Canal with more gondolas than people. The artist loved his gondolas.

  “We’d better go, Reed. I am way behind on my work today.”

  She started walking quickly, wanting to leave all the proposal, ring and reception talk behind.

  Reed cleared his throat. “Ah, the real Callie returns. Nose-to-grindstone.”

  She was going to say something snooty in return but Reed was shaking hands with Al and she remembered her manners.

  Walking back, she said, “Thanks, Al. Another great meal.” She held out her hand, but he wrapped her in a hug instead. “Oh, we forgot our doggie boxes, Reed. I’ll go get them.”

  She picked up the bags containing their leftover meals and couldn’t resist peeking into the two rooms labeled Room A and Room B. They’d be perfect for an elegant wedding reception.

  Hurrying back, she walked to the parking lot with Reed, and they got into Callie’s SUV.

  Reed chuckled. “You’re not the only one who’s going to be busy. Onward to the Beaumont Ranch, please. I have a lot of calls to make to find contractors.”

  “And I have a lot of paperwork to handle and file.”

  Callie had an excellent reputation for doing quality work, but it wouldn’t hurt to give it more of a boost. She could raise her fees after working for the Beaumonts; their positive endorsement of her skills would get around the small town like wildfire.