by Becky McGraw
“Smack Daddy’s?” Carrie repeated dumbly, looking at her.
“Yeah, it’s a local bar. Joel and I need some adult time, and so do you.”
Adult time was something she hadn’t had in a long time. Since her daughter was born ten years ago. After Izzy was born, if Carrie wasn’t dealing with something the kids needed, she was anticipating what they would need the next day. And she was doing it alone mostly, because Sean had been working any job he could find to pay for what they all needed.
“I don’t know, Terri. It’s been a long time since I went out.”
“All the more reason you need it,” Terri persisted.
Carrie sighed and folded her arms under her breasts to lean back against the counter. It looked like Terri Rhodes wasn’t letting her off the hook. Her determined face and posture said she wasn’t. Carrie would feel like a fish out of water at that bar, would probably look like one too, but really what would it hurt?
“Okay,” Carrie finally agreed with a heavy sigh.
“Good.” Terri stepped beside her to give her a push. “Now go get your butt ready. We’ve got shopping to do.” Carrie wiped her hands on the dishtowel, heaved a breath and headed upstairs to change.
Five hours later, as she sat in the chair in the salon with her back turned to the mirror, Carrie wondered what the hell she would look like when the hairdresser Sadie spun her back toward the mirror, and what she’d gotten herself into.
She was a little afraid.
Sadie had been at this makeup thing for a long while now. She’d applied things, then had gone back for a second coat. Carrie had a bad feeling she’d end up looking like she’d applied the makeup with a putty knife. Right now, she was leaned over Carrie applying eyeliner with an eerily steady hand.
After the power-shopping trip Leigh Ann had put her and Terri through at the mall, Carrie was almost too tired now to go to that bar tonight. Her head was spinning, and Terri’s credit card smoking. They had gone to dress stores, western stores, shoe stores, and other stores Carrie had no idea what their purpose was. No matter how much she protested at the prices or selections, the women just smiled and nodded, then shoved more clothes at her to try on. By the time they finally pulled back up to the ranch, Joel had to help to unload the truck. Carrie had a whole new wardrobe she felt sure she would never get to wear except tonight.
Sadie stood back up and stared at her with a critical eye. Carrie met her overly made up blue eyes and hoped like hell the woman hadn’t mimicked her own look on her face. She rarely wore makeup, and when she did, she definitely didn’t wear as much as the salon manager. Carrie’s hair was still up in a towel. She didn’t know what had been done to her hair either and she was damned nervous, because a while ago Sadie had put so many pieces of aluminum foil in her hair, Carrie thought for sure she could pick up alien messages from outer space.
“Damn, I’m good,” Sadie said with a satisfied grin.
“Yes, you are,” Leigh Ann seconded with a matching grin. The spunky little blonde leaned forward to snatch the towel off of her head and her damp hair plopped down on her shoulders. “We need to hurry up with her hair,” she said and her smile widened. “My handsome husband and son are taking me out to dinner.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sadie asked spinning the chair around, so she faced the mirror again. “What’s the occasion?”
“They love me. That’s always cause to celebrate,” Leigh Ann replied with a satisfied smirk for the hairdresser.
Carrie’s gaze swung to the mirror and she stifled a gasp. She had no idea who the hell that pretty woman staring back at her was, but it couldn’t be her. Her rose-tinted lips looked moist and full, and because it was wet, her especially dark hair made her brown eyes look wide and luminous with the smudged smoky liner and beige eye shadow. The makeup wasn’t overly done as she suspected it would be. It was perfect. Something she would probably never be able to accomplish on her own though. Sadie’s eyes met hers in the mirror and Carrie smiled at her.
As if reading her mind, Sadie said, “We don’t have time tonight, or you’ll be late for the ball, but tomorrow I’ll show you how to do this yourself.”
Carrie laughed. “Good luck with that. I don’t wear makeup usually.” She had no one left in her life to impress.
“Well, you should. You should always take that time for yourself,” Sadie reprimanded. “Every woman should.”
“Every woman doesn’t have two kids who take up every minute of her spare time.”
“Every woman doesn’t give their children every minute of her spare time,” Sadie volleyed, looking at Leigh Ann for backup.
Leigh Ann dropped a hand on her shoulder. “She’s right, Carrie. I have a son now too, and a husband. Both of them take up a lot of my time, but I always save a little for myself too. Wes loves it when I do that, because I feel better,” she said with a wide perfect smile. “I’m going to have two children soon too, and I’ll still take that time.” Sadie gasped and Leigh Ann elbowed her. “Didn’t I tell you we’re trying to get pregnant?”
Sadie stepped back to put her hands on her hips to glare at Leigh Ann. “No, you did not, and I see you every day! When did this come about?”
“Last week. Wes says he wants a little girl. He said he wants her to be as tough as Rocky and as pretty as me. I just want her to be healthy and be herself. Whatever she decides that is.”
“Congratulations,” Carrie said, dragging her eyes down to her hands in her lap. She would have liked to have one more kid, but she knew that was probably never going to happen now. Besides, the two children she had were a handful.
“Thank you,” Leigh Ann replied. “Now get busy, Sadie. I have to get out of here.”
By the time Sadie finished with her, and Leigh Ann dressed her, Carrie was almost too tired and relaxed to go anywhere. In the mirror she saw the soft, comfy bed calling her. To a busy, single mother of two with all the issues she’d dealt with for the last three years, stretching out in peace to catch a few winks was all the entertainment she needed. The people at this ranch specializing in rest and relaxation thought otherwise though.
She was going out tonight. To a bar. Something she’d never done before. She and Sean had married so young, and she’d immediately gotten pregnant with Chris. This would be a new experience for Carrie. One she wasn’t really sure she wanted. Most of her adult life she had been married, so flirting and socializing wasn’t something Carrie was comfortable with.
Grief tried to overwhelm her, as she spun her wedding ring around her finger. Sucking in a deep breath, Carrie closed her eyes and let it out slowly. She missed Sean so much sometimes it was a physical ache. She wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her just one more time, to hear him whisper in her ear that she was being a Negative Nellie and everything was going to be fine. That had always made her feel better.
But she knew it wasn’t going to happen ever again. Even though Sean had promised he would always be there for her, he’d left her holding the bag, broke and alone to deal with two out-of-control kids. Because he had been stupid, and loved his job more than he loved them.
Guilt washed through her for thinking that. It wasn’t true. Sean had loved them, he’d just been trying to make ends meet, because he did love them. It wasn’t his fault he was murdered. But dammit he should have been more careful. He knew he had a family, a wife, who depended on him to stay alive.
Now, her life was on a collision course with disaster and Carrie had no idea how to fix things. And it was her own fault, because she hadn’t even considered taking the scholarship she’d been offered out of high school, or getting even a part-time job to get some job references. She didn’t think she’d need them, and Chris and Izzy took up so much of her time, she didn’t think she had time. One thing she’d definitely never had time for was to find out who she was as a woman, outside being a wife and mother.
Maybe it was time she figured that out.
Second guessing her choices in life sure wasn’t helping her
do that. Going out to this bar tonight wasn’t going to give her answers either, but it might improve her outlook.
If she let herself relax and enjoy it.
Leaning into the mirror, Carrie wiped away a lipstick smudge with a tissue, then pushed the wires of the dangly earrings Leigh Ann told her to wear into her lobes. Against all odds, a little excitement about the night tickled her insides.
***
As he rode back into the barn at dusk, Dylan still couldn’t believe Joel had already hired someone to replace him. He had just given him notice a week ago. That led Dylan to think maybe Joel had been planning on replacing him anyway, even if he hadn’t turned in his notice.
He shouldn’t have expected any more from these people, but he had. Even though he knew better than to do it, he let himself think they gave a shit about him.
Today, he found out he was an employee, nothing more, to them. An expendable one. A throwaway like he’d been his whole fucking life. Early on in life he’d learned not to get attached to people or places, because doing that never ended well.
This was the reward he got for actually giving a shit about this job, about these people. He needed to remember he was a fucking tumbleweed saddle tramp, not a ranch hand. Cooling his heels here at this ranch made him forget that. It was time for him to move on now. The rodeo was where he belonged. It had been his comfort zone since he was a wild ass teenager, and would still be his place in life if he hadn’t gotten hurt. He had just been pretending here, adapting like he’d learned to do in every foster home he’d been in.
Once he thought about what happened in his office earlier, Joel would probably fire him now anyway. That was fine by him. Dylan needed to just get back to worrying about himself, like he had before he came here. Like he’d done all his life. And he needed to get back to doing what he loved doing, instead of biding his time out here at this spa that tried to pass itself off as a ranch.
It was too late to get into his old circuit this year. He had missed that window already, but he could probably find a smaller circuit to join. Dylan didn’t care which. The job didn’t even matter really. Being a chute man, shoveling shit or being a rodeo clown would even be preferable to dealing with the clowns here. Rodeo clowns weren’t a joking matter though. He knew those bullfighters worked hard, put their lives on the line to protect the riders. He had mad respect for them. Definitely wouldn’t mind being one of them, if it came down to it and he couldn’t find a place to ride this year. At least he’d be around a sport he loved, and not getting rooted in here, spinning his wheels doing something he hated.
Tomorrow, he would make some calls and by the end of next week, hopefully he’d be on the road again. A seedling of excitement sprouted in his chest and tried to take root, but was quickly singed by a new wave of anger.
What pissed him off most about the whole situation was that his boss had actually pandered to Brandon Carter. Because Dylan had let a pretty face distract him in the spa, Carter had gotten to Joel first. By the time Dylan found Joel in his office, his boss had decided that what he and Carter had was a personality conflict. That was impossible. Carter didn’t have a personality. He was a fucking yuppie, blow hard desk jockey with a chip on his shoulder as big as Texas, and more money than sense. Joel upped the insult though, by suggesting that maybe the cocky Aussie cowboy he’d hired to replace him could do a better job of teaching the abrasive asshole to ride bulls.
The smug look on the Aussie’s face as Joel introduced them had sent Dylan over the edge. He’d said things to Joel he probably shouldn’t have said. Things that should have gotten him fired on the spot. Joel had bitten his tongue, but Zane Lawrence stepped between them and pushed him, telling him to chill out. Him calling Dylan ‘mate’ had been the final straw.
Dylan pushed the cocky Aussie against the wall, and was more than ready to plant his fist in the guy’s face when Joel separated them. Brandon Carter laughed, and used that as an example to Joel of what they’d been discussing before he came into the office. That they had been discussing him, probably laughing at him, behind his back sent Dylan over the edge.
He told them all to fuck off before he walked out. His duffle bag was packed, and he was about to throw it in the bed of his truck, but he caught himself, and decided to take a ride to cool off instead of leaving. That would have given Brandon Carter satisfaction, and it would be cutting his nose off to spite his face. Yeah, he had somewhere to go, his travel trailer in the woods, but he didn’t have another job lined up yet.
Let them pay him to be here, until he found one. Joel owed him that.
The ride he thought would cool him off though, had done nothing more than give him time to stew. Right now, he hoped he could make it to the shower and his room without coming across anyone. Dylan didn’t want to unload on someone who didn’t deserve it. He would save that for Joel in the morning, when he knew for sure he wouldn’t let his fists do the talking.
But Dylan wasn’t that lucky. Sheedy was waiting for him when Dylan walked his horse into the barn. Considering he had been so blinded by anger he had pushed his friend earlier when he was trying to leave the barn, it wasn’t any surprise really. Dylan was usually laid back and easy-going, except when someone pushed him. That was the only way Sheedy had ever seen him.
He had to have heard what went down in Joel’s office by now too. Everyone on the ranch probably knew by now that he’d almost come to blows with Joel and the Aussie.
“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Sheedy demanded angrily.
Figuring he might as well get it over with, without beating around the bush, Dylan said, “I’m ready to get out of this hell hole. I’m leaving next week. Sooner, if Joel fires me.” He dismounted and reached under the horse to loosen the cinch.
Dylan stood back up and Sheedy’s eyebrows slammed down over his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest to lean against the split rail fence circling the indoor arena. “I thought you weren’t leaving until next year?”
Dylan reached up and slid the saddle and blanket off of the horse. “Joel hired someone, so they don’t need me here, and I’m ready to get back on the road anyway.”
“Who’d he hire?” Sheedy asked in a puzzled tone.
“Some rodeo cowboy from Australia.” Dylan laid the saddle beside the fence post. “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon, since you’ll be working with him.”
“You don’t need to train him?”
Dylan snorted. “According to Joel, he has all the experience he needs. He’s ridden everything from bulls to goats in the rodeo back home, and won. He’s so damned good, Joel thinks he can do a better job than me with Brandon Carter. He’s welcome to try. I don’t want anything else to do with that bastard.”
Sheedy grunted. “He’s not better than you.”
“Doesn’t matter if he is or not. He’s taking over the bull and bronc riding adventure, so I’m out of here.”
“Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face because you’re mad, man. You had a plan to get back in shape. You’ll blow it all to hell if you light out of here before you’re ready.”
“Plans change, Sheedy. My shoulder is fine now. Besides I’m switching hands.”
“You almost ripped your fucking arm off when you got hung up on that bull. You don’t just switch hands, you know that!” Sheedy shouted, with a shake of his head. “Besides you haven’t practiced enough to be good yet.”
Dylan flinched as a flash of the excruciating pain he’d endured during his final ride two years ago speared his brain. The bull spun away from his riding hand and took him down the well. One of the worst scenarios a bull rider could imagine. After the tenth rotation or so, he couldn’t feel a damned thing, because Sheedy was right, the bull had almost twisted his arm off.
Surgery had fixed it, he reminded himself. He was better now. But Sheedy was right, he hadn’t practiced enough yet on the real thing to ride successfully left-handed.
Yeah, Dylan did know switching riding hands wasn’t done often, and
definitely not because of an injury. You were either naturally a good left-handed rider, or the opposite. It wasn’t something learned. But Dylan was going to learn it, even if it wasn’t here at the R & R Ranch. He was going to ride again in the sport that he loved.
Riding broncs wasn’t as rough as bulls most times, he could probably start there and work himself back up. Practice riding left-handed. “I’ll ride broncs til I’m ready. I’ll get the hang of it.”
“You got a doctor’s release?” Sheedy countered smugly.
Dylan would talk the doctor into releasing him. Yeah, he was six months shy of the two-year recovery time the circuit doc recommended, but hell, he was in better shape now than he’d been before he got hurt. He’d done the recommended therapy, worked out more on top of it to build up his strength and pack on extra muscle. His shoulder and arm felt better now. Terri had helped him with it, and so had the trainer in the gym here.
“I’ll get one. I’m out of a job now, so I need to go back. Don’t have any choice.”
Sheedy threw up his hands. “I don’t think Joel meant to run you off, man.”
“I think he more than meant to do that. He has someone to replace me, so I’m dispensable. If I leave, he doesn’t have to fire me,” Dylan replied angrily, as he clipped the lead rope to his horse’s halter and led him to his stall.
Sheedy followed him, and opened the stall door for him. Dylan walked inside, turned the horse loose, then walked back out and latched the stall. “You’re wrong, man. He needs you here. We need you,” Sheedy said with a huffed breath.
Dylan was over this conversation. He grabbed the front of Sheedy’s t-shirt to get in his face. “Today he jerked the reins out of my hands here, and handed them over to that new guy. If I’m not in control of what I was hired to do, then I don’t want to be here. You know damn well if it happened to you, you’d feel the same way!”
Sheedy rolled his eyes, then forced a laugh. “You know what you need?”