12 Borrowing Trouble (4 page)

But she knew it wasn’t going to happen ever again.  Even though Sean had p
romised 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, h
er 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 i
nto 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. 

O
nce 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, bu
t 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 wee
k, 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. 

T
he 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. 

H
e 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?”

Dylan released his shirt and stepped back to put his hand on his hip. 
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” What he needed was his friend to just back the hell off.

“
You need an attitude adjustment, and I know just where you can find one too.”

“I’m not going to Smack Daddy’s, Sheedy,” Dylan said knowing where his friend was going
with this.  The last time Dylan went there he woke up in bed with a woman he definitely did not want to see again, Sunny Jo Walker, the resident barfly at Daddy’s. 

That night he had one too many beers, and was just horny enough to agree when she asked him to go with her to her apartment.  Big mistake.  When Dylan grabbed his boots and snuck out of there the next morning before she woke up, he swore he was not going back to that bar for a good long while. 

It had been two months, but not nearly long enough yet to wipe away the picture of how she looked that next morning with her bird’s nest blonde hair and smeared makeup from his mind.  Her damned breasts were so hard from the implants he almost got a black eye when she arched into him.  Dylan was disgusted with himself for going where every other man who frequented that bar had gone.  Falling into the same trap he’d laughed at them for getting caught in.  The woman already had two kids by two different daddies.  He didn’t want to be the unlucky bastard to pull the ticket to be daddy number three.  Until he found the used condom in his boot when he put them on in the truck, he was deathly afraid that’s just what he’d done.

Dylan had no plans to be anyone’s daddy.  Ever.  Especially with a woman like her.
  He’d been flying solo since he was thirteen.  He planned on keeping it that way for everyone’s sake.  He knew from the shitty examples of parenting he’d had, he wouldn’t do any better.