The Cowboy Says I Do

by Sinclair Jayne

  And after his night and dawn with Ashni, all felt right with his world.

  He should be tired. It wasn’t like they’d slept much last night, and they’d both been up early—lots to do. But he felt invigorated. He had an afternoon of competition, and then the steak dinner. There would be good eats—his granddad was one of the beef suppliers each year—and great music and dancing with Ashni under the stars.

  And tonight he was going to propose. Not wait until the Bash. Not try to make it showy or public. His proposal was real, not like the Rodeo Bride Game pretend public marriage proposals. He and Ash were the real deal, forever, not a game to persuade Granddad to stay put on his beloved ranch. Beck would use his brain and his business proposal he’d been piecing together over the past couple of years. And now Boone Telford had added another idea to his mix.

  No matter what, he and Ash would work.

  And tomorrow, before the Ballantyne Bash, when his family was all together, he and Ashni would announce their big news.

  A baby. Marriage.

  He wished the marriage had come before the baby. Then Ashni wouldn’t have to doubt his intentions—although the baby had made marriage more imminent, not some fuzzy, distant mirage he avoided because he didn’t want to walk the same road his mom had.

  He’d been dumb to wait so long—wanting closure on his rodeo life first and letting his mom’s marriages weigh him down.

  But that was the past. Today was a new start. And tomorrow, he was going to win at least a couple of his events and take her to the Ballantyne Bash as his fiancée. He was feeling so positive, he’d even looked online at some dogs available for adoption at a local shelter in Marietta and another in Livingston. Ash could pick their dog, and they could pick it up after the tour finished this year.

  He reached the stall where he kept Raider and Gallatin. The two horses, who’d had their heads together as if communicating, turned toward him.

  “Good morning again, beautiful,” he murmured, first to Raider and then to Gallatin as he aggressively leaned into Beck’s shoulder for attention. “Yes, of course you too.” He smiled, too caught up in the moment to care about the other cowboys readying their horses for steer wrestling.

  “I see how it is.” Ashni’s voice burbled with laughter behind him. “You’re very generous handing out the B compliments today.”

  Beck laughed. He had woken her by calling her beautiful before making slow love to her and then he’d walked her to Harry’s House so that she could paint the frame for the mural. Then he’d taken care of his horses, checked in with his grandfather to see what the plan was for today before heading to Harry’s House and greeted her with “beautiful,” again shortly before the students and parents started arriving for the opening of the mural.

  He’d been pleased for Ashni that so many people had shown up—members of the Harry’s House board of directors, families and also community members. He’d had had his first breathless wonder moment not about the baby but about the baby becoming a kid with likes and dislikes and talents or struggles. What would their child want to do—art? Sports? Rodeo? Dance? Design computer games?

  “Yours was beautiful with a capital B,” he defended, kissing her cheek. His granddad was with her, and he looked happy and robust and normal. It was like the sun had finally emerged.

  “Pretty neat save,” she acknowledged.

  “I said it more than once today, and I’ll say it again. You are beautiful,” he said, taking in her petite frame, still hiding their news. Her hair was in waves and loosely held in a side ponytail with a turquoise clasp.

  Ash often wore simple-cut dresses or sundresses that showcased her toned, feminine frame, but today she had opted for a trim, dark denim pantsuit with shiny copper buttons. She’d left one button more than usual undone so he could catch a little shadowy cleavage at some angles, and yes, he was looking. He also saw the glint of the new necklace, and considering what she hopefully would be wearing later today, excitement skittered down his spine.

  “You look amazing,” he said.

  Ash laughed. “You say that whatever I wear.” She smiled at Ben Ballantyne. “Look at him with the compliments.” She squeezed his granddad’s arm, who smiled indulgently. “I think he got his charm from you.”

  “Not saying.” Ben Ballantyne joined in the teasing. “It could have been Bodhi. That boy could charm a prairie rattlesnake out of its skin since he could talk.”

  “Bodhi does seem to be popular wherever he goes,” Ash admitted. “Although today, I saw him making the rounds at the parade with an auburn-haired beauty, and he was looking particularly smitten. And—” she dropped her voice to a stage whisper “—it was the same woman I saw him with on Sunday night nearly a week ago at Grey’s. A record.”

  “Definitely not saying.” Ben’s lips twitched.

  “You don’t have to,” Ashni sassed. “Beck, I walked with your granddad from the Java Café to the fairgrounds. I think every woman young, old and in between in Marietta knows his name and has something to say, and everyone is especially excited about the Ballantyne Bash this year.”

  “That they did.” Ben Ballantyne smiled and his still-sharp blue eyes sparkled.

  Not for the first time did Beck wonder why his granddad had never remarried. His wife had died while she’d been training a new horse for barrel racing a few years before Beck had been born. Mom had been just out of college.

  “He has a special announcement at the Bash, apparently,” Ash said. “But it’s top secret. He won’t even tell me.” She zipped her lips.

  “All my boys are full of schemes,” his granddad said. “And so am I.”

  “What?” Beck felt a jolt, but Granddad looked innocent, almost suspiciously so. No. He couldn’t suspect anything. Besides, he and Ashni had nothing to hide.

  “We won’t keep you.” She kissed his cheek. “Just wanted to wish you good luck today. We’ll be cheering for you.”

  “She really just wanted to show off her new boots,” his granddad teased.

  Beck had been too busy noticing how beautiful Ash was and how happy she looked. She glowed and the denim pantsuit clung to her very fit, feminine body. He dragged his gaze obediently lower.

  “Sweet. I got myself a designer cowgirl,” he said.

  “Now you just need to hang on to her.” His granddad slipped his arm through Ashni’s. “See if your skills wrestling steers into submission and keeping your head and your seat on a bucking bronc translate to success out of the arena.”

  He led Ash away while Beck watched, more than a bit shocked that his granddad had all but dissed him. At least Ash did look back, smile and wave.

  “You gonna keep watching your girl walk away?” Bodhi joined him, leading Cash, one of the best horses he and Bodhi had ever trained. “Or are you actually back in the game?”

  That damn game.

  “That game is going to bite one of us in the ass,” Beck complained. “Besides, Ash is not a game.”

  “Life’s a game, all of it. Play or you’re cut from the lineup.”

  Bodhi’s blue eyes shone bright. He seemed keyed up. A different energy jangled through him, putting Beck on edge.

  “Jesus, what did you have for breakfast? In the Buddhaholistically brilliant words of Taylor Swift, you need to calm down.”

  “I will when I’m dead.”

  “I thought Bowen was my hazer today.”

  “Then you drew the short straw,” Bodhi said. “You got me.”

  They led their horses to the holding pen. Beck was the tenth competitor. No matter the rodeo, some cowboys were silent, in their heads or on their phones, while others were chatty—fully of verbal swagger. Beck used his time to catch up with friends between events, not during, but he wasn’t nearly as unapproachable as Bowen, who would rarely speak unless necessary once the rodeo had started. He was often more relaxed at Copper Mountain Rodeo, but even that wasn’t saying much.

  Bodhi had always been a damn master of ceremonies with the comments and th
e shout-outs, but not today. Bodhi stood next to his horse, Cash—named after his favorite country music singer—and stared hard at the ground, every line in his body rigid, his jaw clenched, eyes shuttered.

  “You okay?” Beck asked.

  No answer.

  “Bodhi?”

  “Never better,” Bodhi lied. No smile.

  “What’s going on?” A wave of concern washed over Beck.

  “Nothing.” Bodhi flashed a parody of a smile. “I’m the one who cares about nothing and no one, so I’m blessed with no worries.” His voice was hard, eyes harder.

  Beck stared at his cousin, trying to think of a way to voice his concern, to break through the suddenly heavily fortified wall.

  “Are you mad I got back together with Ash?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Congratulations,” Bodhi said flatly, his eyes lit with some repressed emotion Beck couldn’t begin to understand. He stared helplessly at his cousin. Bodhi had always liked Ash. They’d been in all the advanced classes together in high school and in college they’d both been pre-med track. They often studied together.

  He waited for Bodhi to say more. He always had to have the last say…well, until today with only the tense energy radiating off him like a blast of heat.

  “You were the one who kept telling me I should marry her. That I’d never meet another woman her equal.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Bodhi, you aren’t really taking the Rodeo Bride Game seriously, are you?” he demanded.

  “Why wouldn’t I? You are.”

  “I’m not. I’m with Ash. I’ve always been with Ash.” For a moment he almost shared his news, but the new hardness in Bodhi kept his confession locked down. “You’re not really going to bring Nico home and get down on one knee and propose to a girl you’ve known a week. Granddad won’t fall for that.”

  “We’ll see. You got something special planned for Ash?”

  “We’ll see.” He threw Bodhi’s words back in his face.

  “If you propose, you have to go through with it.”

  Beck’s jaw clenched tight. “That’s why I’m not acting so irreverent about marriage.” Bodhi questioning his commitment was rich. “But yes. I intend to marry Ash. Soon as I can.” He didn’t mean to make it sound like a taunt, but it did.

  “Good,” Bodhi said, his voice short, unconcerned. “I’ll be proposing at the Bash too. I don’t back down, and I’ll never walk away from ensuring Granddad’s happiness at the ranch.”

  Beck snorted. “You. Public proposal that lights up Granddad’s imagination. Right.”

  “Think I can’t stick it?” Bodhi demanded.

  “You won’t,” Beck said confidently. Bodhi didn’t do relationships except one-night horizontal ones. “You’d never follow through. Never. Ever.”

  “You know me, cuz.” Bodhi swung himself up on Cash.

  Beck jumped. He hadn’t been paying attention to the lineup at all and, he was up in three competitors. He’d been so caught up in Bodhi’s gaming that he’d lost his focus. Just like at the Panhandle rodeo.

  “When I play, I play to win.” He looked down at Beck. “Get your head in the game, Beckett,” Bodhi taunted. “Ash is going to want you in one piece when you drop down on one knee and confess undying love and devotion.”

  Beck wanted to tell Bodhi to cut the machismo because he wasn’t playing, but the idea of beating Bodhi at his own game appealed in a way he knew it shouldn’t. Old habits die hard, he thought ruefully.

  “Keep your eye on the competition because I’m not going down without one hell of a fight, cuz,” Bodhi said.

  *

  Beck was in the zone. Game on. He sat atop Raider, perfectly balanced, waiting for the string to be released. Raider danced sideways, showing off, tossing his dark mane that Beck had brushed until it gleamed but, always a pro, Raider settled quickly, muscles bunched in anticipation. Beck didn’t have to look to know Bodhi would be ready. He might joke around, but no one worked harder.

  The antsy steer was loaded into the chute, and Beck drew in a deep breath. Waited behind the barrier. He saw a blur of white and brown and the string broke, popping the barrier down. Raider burst out at a full gallop. Bodhi and Cash kept pressure on the steer, and Beck was practically parallel to the steer before he released a breath. He dropped, arm straddling the steer, both hands gripped the horns, his legs were out straight but not locked, and as his boots caught dirt, he shifted his weight, twisted and hauled the steer over and down. The steer’s legs were up even as Beck’s butt hit the dirt.

  He released the steer, which rolled back up, shook its head and ran off. Beck popped up out of the dirt and sawdust. Bodhi had Raider’s reins and he looked at the clock before trotting over to meet him. Beck tipped his hat and waved. Ashni was on her feet waving a cute black straw cowboy hat and cheering. He waved at her and then strode out of the arena.

  “Three point nine seconds in the prelim. Damn, you’re on fire. You should at least let the other cowboys think they’ve got a shot.” Bodhi laughed as he dismounted. He slapped Beck on his back. “Off to see a girl. See you round.”

  Beck stared at Bodhi as he led Cash away, swagger in every step, but for the first time, Bodhi didn’t flirt with any of the rodeo queens he passed, who were waiting, glittering and glamorous after their ride through the arena, to kick off the rodeo. Bodhi tipped his hat and murmured, “Ladies,” and kept on moving.

  His friend Boone Telford joined Beck and walked with him and Raider back to the livestock holding area. “I rodeoed for seven years and didn’t get but a handful of scores below four.”

  “Luck was on my side,” Beck said, fist-bumping and shoulder-checking Boone. It was true, but he also trained and trained and trained some more. And kept his body in competitive athletic shape. “Bodhi really cranks the pressure when he’s the hazer.”

  “He’s good. Looking forward to watching him and Bowen vie for the higher score when the bull riding starts. And I hope your bulldogging score doesn’t match your steer wrestling.”

  “Still working on your stand-up, I see,” Beck mused as he rubbed down Raider. “Keep at it—you’re still not funny.”

  He saw Bodhi in a stall on the other side, taking care of Cash and listening while Nico, perched on the gate, her hair a lava flow that seemed to have a life of its own, chatted.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Boone said. “I was hoping to catch you today to invite you and Ashni to dinner next week if you’re still planning on staying the extra week like you normally do. I wanted to show you my rodeo school plans so you’ve got something to think about as you finish off your season.”

  “Thanks, Boone, I’d like to see what you’ve got going so far and look over your business plan if you have one.”

  “Oh, I have one. My dad is not about winging anything. He brought his family’s ranch back from near bankruptcy and has tripled its size over the years, buying back land his father had been forced to sell.”

  “I’ll check with Ash what night works best. I’m not sure what, if anything I have to offer, but, yeah, I’d love to talk about what your program would need. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  Maybe this could be his first step in life after the rodeo. He still hoped to work the Three Tree Ranch with his granddad, of course. It had been his lifelong dream. In his dream, his cousins had also been with him, but they’d always known that they’d have to bring money to invest in the ranch and have something else to support themselves. He’d been thinking about setting up a woodworking shop—making furniture, cabinets—but maybe working with Boone could provide some income while he got established. With a baby on the way, he’d need to be prepared to provide.

  Boone seemed pleased. Congratulated him again on a stellar ride and said he was going to join his family to watch the roping events.

  Beck brushed Raider’s mane and tail again. Maybe he’d have enough time to sneak into the stands and find a few moments with Ash before his next event. What would she think about a
rodeo school?

  “Want to be a teacher?” he asked his horse.

  Raider snorted and nudged at his pocket through the protective vest.

  “Sneak,” he said, fishing out the carrot. “I bet you’d be top of the class.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I can help with that.” Beck heard the familiar voice and his heart leapt.

  Ashni took the tape from him, and her fingers were cool and gentle as she wrapped his left wrist and then laid a couple of pieces around his palm to help his gloves stick. He looked down at her silky dark head.

  “You having a good day?” he asked softly.

  She nodded. He put on his glove, and she wrapped the tape around his wrist. He tested for flexibility and tightness.

  “Seems like you’ve done this before,” he teased. “I’m looking forward to dancing with you at the steak dinner.”

  “Dancing with you is always my favorite part.” She smiled up at him as she wrapped his right wrist.

  There were lots of people around backstage at a rodeo—cowboys, staff, press, stock contractors and their employees, but she’d still made the moment feel intimate and playful as she teased him that there were lots of ways to dance, and she loved each one. But this year he had something special planned, and he very much hoped that was her favorite part of the night.

  His stomach lurched both in excitement and with nerves.

  “You gonna watch from here or from the stands?”

  “From the stands. Your granddad is sitting with a friend of his—a Sam Wilder, who’s become more and more of a recluse I’ve heard, and he disowned his daughter years and years ago, and now he’s sitting there in the thick of his four grandsons he’s refused to meet over the past few years since they all moved to Marietta. He’s Sky’s grandfather-in-law.”

  “Granddad must be thrilled. He and Sam go way back. Each year he drives out there to try to convince him to come to the Bash. Maybe this year he will.” Beck crossed his fingers, awkward in the gloves as this was a newer pair, not yet broken in. “Glad you’re sitting with him.”

  “I love him,” Ash said. “But I wanted to spend time with you. I won’t be doing this again, not often anyway,” she said, tapping his other glove tightly.