A Cowboy's Claim (5 page)

“Take as much as you want. The rest is going to the humane society.” He motioned to Slingshot. “You need help?”

“No, thanks.” She entered the corral. “C'mon, big guy.” She took his lead rope, surprised when he followed without protest. Once he was secure in his trailer stall and she'd loaded the hay, Tanya took off.

Moriarty, New Mexico, was ten hours away and she had two days to get there. She'd contacted a mobile-home park weeks ago and received permission to use one of their pads to park the truck and horse trailer. They had public showers, free Wi-Fi, a washateria and, according to the owner, an acre of grass for Slingshot. The daily rate was more than she'd budgeted, but she needed to do her laundry.

If the camping site was a hellhole, then she'd call one of her stepfather's friends in the area and ask if she could camp out on their property for a day or two. She was nothing if not organized and she'd mapped out an entire season of rodeos after the first of the year. But the one thing she hadn't planned on was Victor Vicario taking off on her before she woke up.

She hadn't gone to the motel room with him expecting anything to come of their night, but she'd held out hope their time together might turn into a...
Relationship
wasn't the right word, because Vic was a loner. Fling maybe? She and Victor were bound to cross paths from time to time the remainder of the summer and she'd hoped they'd become friends—friends with benefits. She hadn't realized how lonely she'd been since she joined the circuit.

For the millionth time she went over the events of last night in her head but couldn't figure out what she'd done or hadn't done that had caused Vic to bolt without saying goodbye.

Maybe he was worried you'd make last night out to be more than just sex
.

She couldn't remember every word they'd whispered to each other in the dark, but she was certain she'd never uttered anything threatening like
I love you
.

Her brain told her to move on, but her heart wasn't ready to give up hope. There had to be a reason he left in a hurry, but they didn't exchange phone numbers, so she had no way of getting in touch with him. Maybe it was best if they didn't run into each other for a while. By the time they crossed paths again, she might be ready for his apology.

* * *

“T
HANK
YOU
FOR
getting here as soon as you could, Mr. Vicario,” Renee Leonard said as she searched through the folders on the desk.

He would have arrived an hour ago if he hadn't first had to stop by the police station and speak with the cop investigating his mother's disappearance. Officer Darrel Andrews claimed a neighbor phoned 911 at 10:00 p.m. to report a little boy walking alone in the parking lot. When the cops arrived, they discovered his mother's apartment door wide-open. There were no signs of a robbery and Officer Andrews believed Vic's mother might have taken off sometime the day before, but Alex wasn't talking to anyone. Vic wasn't surprised his nephew refrained from speaking—the kid must have been terrified at being left alone in the apartment.

Andrews said he'd be in touch as soon as they had any new information, but considering his mother's history of drug abuse, it was anyone's guess what had happened to her. He shouldn't even think it, but the thought crossed his mind anyway—it was probably better for Alex if his grandmother was never found.

“Before I have Martha bring Alex into my office,” Renee said, “I wanted to go over a few things with you. Are you considering applying for legal custody of Alex?”

Legal custody?
“No.” Vic had nothing to offer a kid like Alex. He'd step up and do his duty until they found a proper foster home for his nephew but nothing more.

“Alex is experiencing a lot of different emotions and you shouldn't take his actions or reactions to you personally. Just let him express himself however he feels comfortable. In a few weeks you need to get him to a therapist who will help him process his feelings. I'm sure he's wondering where his grandmother is and why she left him.”

This sounded like a lot more than just babysitting the kid for a short while.

“If you're worried about the cost of therapy, the state will cover his sessions. There's a clinic that works with children right down the street from here.” Renee handed him a business card.

“Alex's birthday is September twenty-seventh, which is past the cutoff date to enroll him in kindergarten for the fall. He'll need to wait one more year before he goes to school. There are lots of pre-K programs he could attend and we can help you find one. It's important that he socialize with other kids.”

Renee had no clue what Vic's life was like or that he was too busy chasing a title to socialize himself. Maybe the woman thought rodeo was Vic's hobby.

“These are Alex's medical records.” She handed Vic the paperwork. “A list of his immunizations. He had a checkup with a pediatrician two days ago and the doctor said there's no physical reason for Alex not to be speaking.” Renee picked up a kid's backpack from the floor by her chair and handed it to Vic. “Some clothes, a few books and parenting pamphlets that might be of help.”

The only thing of use to Vic right now was finding a home for his nephew.

Renee texted on her phone and a moment later another woman walked into her office. “Martha,” Renee said. “This is Alex's uncle, Victor Vicario. Victor, Martha is in charge of the group home Alex was placed in.”

Vic caught the wince Martha tried to conceal when she saw his scar. “I'm sure Renee told you that Alex hasn't said a word since he was brought to the group home. Several of the children have tried to engage him in conversation, but he ignores them.”

Poor kid.

“He doesn't eat a lot and he's underweight for his age, so be sure to offer him snacks between meals. He may not tell you he's hungry, but you should encourage him to eat.”

“How has he been sleeping?” Renee asked.

“He hasn't woken with nightmares. But if he does, just reassure him the best you can. He's not combative and he doesn't pick fights with the other kids but...” Martha rubbed her brow.

“What?” Vic asked.

“He stares out the window all day yet refuses to go outside and join the other kids in the yard.”

Was Alex waiting for his grandmother to come get him? Vic began to sweat. He wanted to help his nephew, but the kid deserved better than an uncle he'd never met and spending most of his day in a pickup. Alex needed specialized help—help Vic wasn't qualified to give him. He looked at Renee. “How long did you say it will take to find him a permanent foster home?”

“Foster homes are never permanent. We have good people who sign up to take children in, but life is full of unexpected surprises and sometimes they have to send the child back to us. We're hoping that this won't be the case for Alex. He needs stability in his life right now, but we can't guarantee him that.”

“What if Alex doesn't want to be with me?”

“If you have issues with Alex, feel free to contact me. I'll notify you as soon as a foster home opens up for him.”

Renee's expression appeared sincere and Vic had no reason to believe she wouldn't do her best to find a solution to Alex's living situation.

“Judge Hamel gave me the Fitzgeralds' phone number and said you'd be staying there with Alex until you decide what to do about your rodeo schedule.”

They'd been told what he did for a living, but it sounded as if Judge Hamel had fudged the story. He wanted to make sure these women knew the truth. “I don't think you understand,” he said.

“Here's Alex.” Martha opened the door wider. “You must have grown tired of waiting for us adults to finish talking.”

Vic shifted in his chair and his heart clenched when he saw his nephew. He looked like Natalia when she'd been his age. Vic was ten years older than his sister and he felt a prick of shame that this was the first time he was meeting his nephew.

Big brown eyes stared at Vic. The kid appeared afraid of him—then Vic remembered his scar. Damn, what the hell was he supposed to do about that? He got up from the chair and went down on one knee in front of the boy. “It looks a lot worse than it really is.” He smiled, then straightened his mouth when Alex's eyes widened.

“I'm your uncle Vic. Your mom was my sister. You ready to hang out with me for a few weeks?”

The boy's eyes remained glued to Vic's scar. Alex didn't act as though he wanted to go with his uncle—maybe Vic could wiggle his way out of this tight spot.

“Alex, it's going to take time to find a family for you to live with. Do you want to stay here at the home or would you like to go with your uncle?” Renee asked.

The room held its breath, waiting for the boy to make his decision. Then Alex pointed a tiny finger at Vic, sealing his uncle's fate.

Chapter Four

“Ladies and gentlemen, up next is a cowgirl from Longmont, Colorado. Tanya McGee and her horse Slingshot need a time of fourteen seconds or better to take home a trophy tonight.”

“You can do this, Slingshot,” Tanya whispered in the horse's ear. “If you don't win, we're done.” And Tanya didn't want this to be her last ride. She wanted to walk away from barrel racing with at least one win—a positive memory to replace the car accident that had abruptly ended her career. “I'm warning you, Slingshot, your life at Red Rock will be boring.”

Slingshot loved to race barrels. She felt it in her bones. If he didn't like to compete he'd balk at being hauled from state to state, but he was a good traveler. He never gave her trouble loading or standing in the trailer. His only weakness was not responding to her commands during competition, and she didn't know why.

“Be sure to stick around after the rodeo, folks. Tonight's cowgirls will be signing autographs at the front entrance.”

Tanya climbed into the saddle and took several deep breaths, then closed her eyes, but they popped opened when an image of Victor's face flashed through her mind. The past two days she'd convinced herself that their night at the motel had meant nothing. The fact that Vic's face remained clear in her memory stung. Slingshot tensed and she relaxed her leg muscles. This might be her last race with the horse and she didn't need Vic's ghost sabotaging her ride.

“Looks like Tanya and Slingshot have entered the alley and are ready to go.”

As soon as she was given the signal, Tanya clicked her heels and Slingshot bolted. He broke the electronic barrier at full speed, then rounded the first barrel with ease. This time felt different—this time they were going to win. Slingshot made a tight turn around the second barrel and picked up speed. He was going too fast and she feared he'd take out the third barrel and injure them both, so she reined him in—too much. Slingshot's muscles tensed as he came out of the turn and they lost valuable seconds before he made it back to the alley.

“Tanya McGee and Slingshot posted 14.9 seconds! Good enough for second place. Thank you for coming out tonight and supporting our WPRA sanctioned barrel-racing event in Moriarty. Drive safe.”

Tanya rode Slingshot out of the arena and then walked him for ten minutes before turning him loose in the holding pen. “You threw that race.” Slingshot ignored her and drank from the water tank. “You know you're capable of winning.” When he lifted his head and snorted, she asked, “Is it me? You just don't like me riding you?”

His brown eyes blinked at her; then he turned his back and joined the other horses at the feeder. She left him to rest and went to sign autographs. The money she won tonight would pay for one more entry fee, but she'd depleted her savings. From here on out, if she decided to continue competing she'd have to put all her expenses on a credit card.

Is it worth it?

That was the million-dollar question.

“Great ride, Tanya.” Debbie Winters, the first-place winner, patted the seat next to her at the signing table.

Tanya didn't like Debbie. The former Miss Rodeo Queen was beautiful, talented and spoiled. And she'd slept with Beau—after Tanya had filed for divorce. But still...

“Beau's concerned about you,” Debbie said.

“I doubt that.” Beau didn't care about anyone but himself.

“He said you're chasing after Victor Vicario.”

Chasing?

Debbie smiled at the young girl who shoved a program in her face. “I know you're upset things didn't work out with Beau, but did you seriously think they would?” She returned the program to the little girl. “You're not the right woman for him.”

Tanya waited for her turn to sign the program, but the girl walked off. “And I suppose you're the right woman for him?”

Debbie flashed a smile. “Do you still have feelings for Beau? Because if you think there's a chance of you two getting back together, then—”

“No way. I'm over him. It's only his ego talking when he tells people that I'm not.”

“Then the rumors are true—you hooked up with Victor Vicario?”

“Hooked up?” Had someone spotted Vic's truck parked outside the Sweet Dreams Inn?

“Darcy Kimble saw you two leave the Muggy Rim together.”

“We grabbed a bite to eat, so what?” Damn Darcy and her big mouth.

“But you left your horse at the fairgrounds overnight.” Debbie wiggled her eyebrows.

“I don't see that this is any of your business.” Tanya wiped her perspiring brow.

“Beau's worried that you're desperate and that's why you're with Victor.”

Tanya clenched her jaw until her anger subsided. “First of all, I'm not desperate. And second, I'm not
with
anyone.”

“Just the same, you should be careful around Victor. You shouldn't trust a man who has no friends.”

“How do you know he doesn't have any friends?” Tanya asked.

“Beau said he never socializes with the other cowboys.”

“Since when is Beau Billings an expert on other people's lives? He's jealous because Vic's one of the best saddle-bronc riders on the circuit.”

And Vic was just as good in bed. Tanya's body heated when she recalled the things he'd done to her with his hands and mouth. Beau's lovemaking paled in comparison to what she and Vic had shared, partly because Vic had made sure she enjoyed the experience. Beau believed a woman should just be grateful to have him in her bed and he didn't see any reason to go out of his way to please her.

Tanya nudged Debbie. “Why all the questions?”

Debbie's cheeks reddened, but she waited to answer until after she signed a program for a pair of sisters. “I needed to know if it's really over between you and Beau.”

“You seriously like him, don't you?”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “I think he's misunderstood is all.”

Misunderstood? Tanya laughed. It was all an act. She wanted to warn Debbie but doubted she'd listen. With Beau's good looks and Debbie's beauty... “You two would make beautiful babies.”

Debbie's eyes lit up. “I know, right?”

Debbie and Beau's big egos deserved each other. “If you want Beau, go after him.”

“You're sure you don't have any lingering feelings for him?”

Not any lovey-dovey feelings, that was for sure. “I'm totally over Beau.” Tanya got the impression that Debbie was looking for a reason not to pursue Beau, because she knew he was a lost cause. Too bad some women didn't know when to call it quits.

Debbie shoved her chair back and stood. “See you down the road.”

Maybe Tanya and the beauty queen had something in common after all—whether it was a man or a horse, neither of them knew when to back off. Tanya walked back to the livestock pens. “Slingshot!” He swung his head in her direction. “I'm giving you one more chance.”

Because Slingshot deserved to prove he could win and because Tanya wasn't ready to say goodbye to Vic.

* * *

“I'
M
GETTING
HUNGRY
,” Vic said. “You want to grab lunch somewhere, Alex?”

His nephew stared in a trancelike state from the backseat. The kid had been silent since they left Albuquerque. The social worker had made sure Vic knew how to secure the booster seat in the back of his pickup. She said Alex was small for his age—barely thirty pounds and thirty-eight inches tall—and that he'd need to use the booster until he gained more weight.

“You like burgers? Tacos? Chicken fingers?” He didn't expect an answer, but he glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping for some kind of reaction. Nothing.

He could only guess what was going through the boy's head—none of it good. He took the next exit off the highway and pulled into a truck stop with a fast food restaurant inside. He filled the pickup with gas and parked in front of the building.

“Let's see what they have in here to eat.” He helped Alex out of the booster seat and set him on the ground. “Do you need to use the restroom?” No answer. They entered the convenience store, where he guided Alex into the men's restroom. Vic stepped up to a urinal and relieved himself. Alex just stared at the urinals. “Guess you can't reach that high yet.” He opened a stall door. “This will work better.” Vic held the door partially closed in case Alex needed his help. After a couple of minutes he heard the toilet flush. When Alex stepped out of the stall, Vic held him over the sink and helped him wash his hands. They shared a dryer, then left the restroom. In the adjoining restaurant Vic ordered a hamburger for himself and chicken fingers for Alex along with two sodas, then changed his mind. “Make one of those a Hi-C drink.”

“We have milk,” the cashier said.

“Milk sounds even better.” Vic carried the tray of food to a booth and sat across from Alex. The boy's chin barely cleared the edge of the table.

“Dig in.” Vic took a bite of his burger.

Tiny fingers picked off pieces of the chicken and popped them into his mouth. Vic pushed his fries across the tray. “Help yourself.” He opened a ketchup packet and squeezed a blob on the food wrapper, then dunked the end of a fry in it. Alex copied him. Now he knew two things about Alex—he liked chicken and ketchup on his fries.

“You been to any movies lately?” Alex shook his head. Good, Vic was making progress. “Me, neither. Do you have a favorite football team?” Stupid question. He doubted the boy knew anything about sports when he'd been raised around females his whole life. Vic's older brother had played football in middle school but got mixed up with gangs and dropped out of school in tenth grade.

Vic hadn't tried out for sports in school. Maybe if he'd had any discipline in his early life, he might have been able to handle a coach yelling at him, but he'd gotten enough flak from his teachers and didn't need more after school let out. “I cheer for the Dallas Cowboys when I can catch a game in my motel room.”

He wanted to learn as much as possible about Alex, but what if his questions spawned bad memories? The last thing he intended to do was make his nephew cry. Then again maybe Alex was too tough to cry. Vic and his siblings had learned early in life that crying got them nowhere with their mother. Surely Vic's mother had treated Alex the same way. Why else would she have gone off and left Alex alone? Hell, she'd probably forgotten her grandson even lived with her. Vic knew from experience that when she needed a hit, everyone around her ceased to exist.

“Did I tell you that I rode a horse called Banjo once?” He took a sip of his soda. “He was pitch-black with white markings on his legs. Looked like he wore socks.”

Alex's gaze remained glued to his food, but Vic sensed he was listening because when he'd pause, Alex would glance up at Vic as if he was waiting for his uncle to continue speaking.

“I think you're gonna like rodeo. You ever met a real cowboy before?” Vic didn't consider himself a real cowboy. He wasn't born and raised on a ranch or a farm. He knew nothing about caring for or training horses. He just rode the wild ones. “You have to be careful around the rough stock because they can get agitated.”

Vic ate the rest of his burger, but Alex had only eaten two of his four chicken fingers. “If you finish your meal, you can buy a treat before we hit the road again.”

Alex inhaled his chicken. Evidently the kid liked sweets. “Good job, buddy. You have to eat all your meals, so you'll grow up nice and strong. Who knows, maybe one day you'll be a bull rider.” He gathered their garbage and dumped the contents into the trash container. “Let's check out the ice cream in the freezer.” They returned to the convenience mart and stared at the treats in the freezer. “Which one do you want?” Vic asked.

Alex glanced at Vic, then back at the freezer. “You want me to lift you up?” The knot in his gut eased when Alex raised his arms. Vic hoisted him higher so he could view his choices. “Take whichever one you want.”

He picked a firecracker Popsicle and Vic said, “Grab another for me. I haven't had one of these since I was a kid.” Ice-cream trucks didn't dare drive through the barrio unless they wanted to risk being robbed at gunpoint.

Back in his pickup, Vic set Alex in the front seat next to him and they ate their treats in silence. He waited for the boy to finish, then wiped off his sticky hands with a napkin. When pieces of the tissue stuck to his fingers, Vic said, “We better buy a few supplies before we take off.”

They returned to the store and Vic carried a shopping basket through the aisles, Alex following behind him. He dropped a box of tissues in the basket then a package of wet wipes, granola bars, bubble gum, a six-pack of water bottles, a notepad and a package of colored markers.

Back in the truck, Vic buckled Alex into the booster seat and cleaned his sticky hands with a wipe. “We have a lot of driving to do, so if you get bored you can color.” He set the markers and pad of paper on the seat next to Alex.

Once he merged onto the highway, Vic tuned the radio to a sports talk show. He checked the rearview mirror every few minutes. Alex stared out the window, his face expressionless. Vic wished he knew how to reassure the kid that everything would be okay. But Vic wasn't sure anything would be okay again.

“If you ask me, rodeos are pretty awesome.” He hoped the one-sided conversation would keep the boy's bad memories at bay. Vic could manage that when Alex was awake, but he had no idea how to protect him from bad dreams when he slept.

“We'll arrive at the rodeo early this Saturday and then I'll show you around.” He checked the mirror again—Alex had fallen asleep.

What kind of mother had his sister been—besides not a good one? The social worker had no idea who Alex's father was—there was no record of Natalia receiving any child support payments. The guy was probably a gangbanger or had been one of her paying customers. He gripped the wheel tighter. If Maria Fitzgerald hadn't taken Vic under her wings, he might be sitting behind bars right now, too. He for sure wouldn't be busting broncs.