Texas CHAOS (Texas Heroes Book 2) (12 page)

“You don’t want to see him?”

“He’s tried to get in touch with me, but I’m not sure what he wants from me, really.” She spoke over her shoulder. “I was his responsibility for so long, I think I was a habit. He felt responsible for me. Nothing more than that.”

The regret in her voice was obvious to Hugh. “And what do you feel?” He wasn’t sure he believed her take on the situation.

“What I feel didn’t seem to matter.” Just seeing him from a distance made her want to cry. She loved him more than life. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. But nothing could be gained from seeing him now. Jenna had no doubt he would try to make her go home – but not to him. And if she couldn’t have Logan’s love, she didn’t want his protection.

Across the fairgrounds, Logan watched the last bronc leave the trailer. Taking his hat off, he wiped his brow. Compared to fighting a fire, this was a picnic. Dealing with the animals was a stress reliever. There were times when he sent one of the ranch hands to deliver stock, but when he could, he liked to come himself. Especially to an event he’d never worked before. Logan took responsibility for his animals and wanted to make sure they were well treated. Reports of abuse were few and far between, but he always wanted to check things out for himself. This was his first contract out of state and since he didn’t know the organizers, he arranged to make this round himself.

For the next few hours, he checked out the facilities and met the managers. He’d already reviewed the records and found no complaints from previous suppliers. Logan was satisfied the Red River Roundup was a legitimate organization he could add to his regular schedule. Now, he was ready for some liquid refreshment. Following the crowd, he found himself outside a rustic dining establishment called the Mean-Eyed Cow. The name made him smile. He’d known some of those heifers in his time – both with four legs and two. Opening the screen door, he strolled inside and made his way to the bar.

An old-fashioned round barstool covered in cracked blue leather swiveled at his touch. Logan propped his leg up on the metal footrest and sat down, taking the laminated menu from a nearby rack. A gum-chewing redheaded waitress sauntered over to him from the opposite side of the counter. “What can I get you? Wanna beer, cutie?”

Cutie? Logan had been called a lot of things in his time. This was first for ‘cutie’. “I think I’ll have a burger and a root beer. Cut the onions and the cheese.”

“Oh, honey, any woman would kiss you even with onion breath.” She gave him a wide smile and a wink.

Logan grinned at her, ducking his head. Females coming on to him was nothing new. What was a shame was…the only one he wanted to come on to him was long gone. He’d racked his brain trying to figure out where Jenna had disappeared to. He’d checked all the colleges in a five-hundred-mile radius, but didn’t find her. And the money he’d set aside for her hadn’t been touched. Bottom line, Jenna didn’t want him to find her. Her friend Dixie knew where she was, but she wasn’t talking. She’d called Logan an idiot for pushing Jenna away. He didn’t disagree with her at all. If only Chief Hodgins words about his own relationship to a much younger woman didn’t haunt him.
I loved Sierra until she grew to hate me for it. 

“Hey, can you pass me the salt?”

Someone nudged Logan and he grabbed the shaker passing it to the man sitting next to him. “Sure. My name’s Logan Gray.”

“Joel Hardin. You riding?” The young cowpoke offered his hand to Logan, who shook it. Returning to his food, he took a big bite of rice and gravy, washing it down with a swig of tea.

“Nope.” Logan shook his head. “I’m the stock contractor. I used to ride broncs. The only thing I ride these days is a fire truck.”

“Yea.” The other man nodded. “I guess we all have to slow down sometimes.”

Logan knew the other man meant nothing by it, but the reminder of their age difference reinforced the doubts he had about his being good for Jenna. “You might be right.”

As he sat and waited for his food, Joel got on his phone and began looking at videos. After a while, he chuckled and leaned toward Logan. “Have you seen these videos about that girl who’s been riding the bulls?”

“No.” Logan said slowly. “You mean that lady from Michigan?”

“No, Laramie’s a blonde. This is a gorgeous little brunette, rides with the Cowgirl Angels, and talk about an angel... Look.”

Joel handed Logan his phone where a You-tube video was playing. The image was small, but when he brought it closer, the identity of the rider was evident. Logan’s heart rose in his throat when he saw Jenna atop a massive bull, her hand in the air, as she was spun and jerked violently. The ride didn’t last the requisite eight seconds. After a little over four heart-rending moments, she was launched off his back and hurled through the air to land on her back a dozen feet away. “Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath. One horrifying snippet of her riding led to another, there was even some footage of the Angels performing. 

“She’s something, ain’t she? I think she’s ridden in half a dozen rodeos in the past few weeks. A real crowd favorite. She’s improving by leaps and bounds. Her name is Jenna.” Joel sighed and shook his head. “I sure wish I could meet her.”

“I feel the same way.” His voice was hoarse with emotion.

Joel winked at Logan. “Maybe I’ll get a chance. She’s riding here tonight.”

Jerking his head toward the young cowboy, he handed back the phone. “That right?” Not waiting for an answer, he shouted to the waitress. “Make mine to go. I got somewhere to be.”

***

Sitting astride Stormy, she moved in formation from the practice paddock toward the arena. Every once in a while she glanced nervously over her shoulder, expecting to see Logan stomping toward her like a mad grizzly. As much as she ached to see him, to be with him – after the fiasco of their night together and his heartbreaking revelation of how she’d manipulated their encounter – she couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t do it. The idea of facing him made her cringe, she’d humiliated herself and had no desire to repeat the process.

Shifting in the saddle, she admitted she didn't feel the best in the world. Something was off. A few aches and pains in her body was nothing compared to the unrest in her brain. To get her mind off Logan and on to the matter at hand, Jenna focused on what was going on around her. During the weeks she’d been practicing with the Angels, Jenna had learned much about the group. The women involved were much like her, all had backgrounds where they’d learned to love horses, rodeos…and cowboys. But the horses were a different story. Jenna loved the horses.

One evening around a campfire, Anne had sat her down and told the story. None of the girls had brought their own horses into the group, except for her. She and Stormy were different, having performed together before. The rest were paired together according to personality. And many times the talent lay more with the mount than the rider.

The first horse indoctrinated in the group had been Tilly. Solid black, she’d come half-starved and wild as a buck. Ann had bought her from a trader, working for months to fatten her up and build a bond of trust. Most who saw Tilly were naysayers, prophesying that she wouldn’t amount to much. But the horse was hungry for love and extremely intelligent. Slowly, Anne had started riding her, teaching Tilly the routines. Once she’d begun performing, Tilly had taken to it like a duck to water. She was fierce in her devotion. During one routine, she’d broken her back leg and no one knew it until the performance was over because Tilly never let on. Only when she was out of sight of the crowd did she pick up her leg and refuse to set it back down again. It was a year before she could once again enter the ring, but nothing had stopped her since. 

Kiowa was a golden paint, five years old, bred to be a cutting horse. He’d never been trained because he grew too big too fast. Anne purchased him for a song and within a few months, the gentle giant was a functioning part of the team.

Two-Bits was a buckskin with a dark brown mane and tail. Born wild in Colorado, Anne had purchased the mustang from an auction. Of all the horses, she said he was the fastest learner. A favorite among the girls, Two-Bits was used to train the new girls until they found a mount to suit them.

Aside from Stormy, Jenna’s favorite was a nine-year-old quarter horse called Sprite. A big bay roan, he’d been owned by a cowboy who passed away. Anne heard about Sprite at a rodeo, the horse who wouldn’t eat, mourning his master. The story touched her heart and she bought him, giving him special attention until he came into his own. Jenna was trying to learn rope tricks and Sprite had proved to be a great help. He and Stormy got along well, which was a good thing. She had aspirations to learn the Roman Ride where she’d stand on the back of two horses, one foot on each. Sprite was her choice to team with Stormy. Anne had approved her request and Jenna couldn’t wait.

Snow White Sonya was a crowd favorite. For some reason, she’d taken a liking to the American flag. A small compact girl, she strutted her stuff when the flag was flown, dropping her head and prancing like a Lipizzaner, the white show horses from Austria. The last horse in their troupe was a buckskin roan, another wild mustang captured in Wyoming. To hear Anne tell it, Jon Bon was her favorite. He had a stubborn streak and required extra training. For a while, it hadn’t been clear if he’d made the cut. Anne had finally figured out that he wasn’t cooperating because he craved the extra attention that his stubbornness brought. The three-year-old was now a full part of the team and today just like the other horses, he was raring to get in the ring.

So was Jenna.

When she was in front of the crowd, when the music was playing, when the energy of the animals was high and she was a part of it all – she could put Logan out of her mind for just a little while. Deep in her heart, Jenna knew that was why she was bull riding. Oh, she enjoyed the rush, but it gave her an escape. When she was on the back of a roaring bull, there was no time to remember.

Pity it lasted only eight seconds.

“Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome a group of young ladies who are fast becoming the most talked about performers on the rodeo circuit. They’re beautiful, they’re talented, and they’re here tonight! Cowgirl Angels!”

With the roar of the crowd, the gates opened and Anne led them out. Stormy pranced in place until it was his turn to enter the arena and start the wide circle for the flag presentation. Camera flashes went off in every direction and Jenna held her hat high as she rode around the ring. Unlike some of the girls, she didn’t try to connect with the crowd. Her attention was focused on the rider in front of her and Stormy’s next move.

Up in the stands, Logan’s attention was fully focused on Jenna. This was the first time he’d seen her since he’d walked away from her lying in his bed. Rushing from the bar, he’d hoped to get to her before she went on, but no such luck. So here he was, sitting in the stands with the rest of the audience watching the woman he adored, the one he dreamed about each night, doing daredevil tricks that made his blood run cold.

Logan had eyes for no other. She might as well have been riding alone. When the rest stood in formation for her routine, the crowd went still. Even in his agitated state, he couldn’t deny that she was a ballerina on horseback. Elegant and sure. Poetry in motion. From one daring position to another, Jenna hung off her horse, just inches from pounding sharp hooves. Flowing from one move to the next, she redefined the roles of athlete and performer, merging the two in a way that made what she did look effortless. Logan looked around at the faces of the crowd as she rode by. Little girls wanted to be her, women envied her and men…they just wanted her.

Logan understood the feeling. He’d been a fool to let her go. She belonged to him and he wanted the privilege of protecting her, loving her – not as some pseudo uncle figure, but as the man who adored her more than life itself. And so he watched…and planned what he’d say to her the first chance he got.

As the Cowgirl Angels time in the spotlight wound down, he started making his way down from his high spot in the bleachers so he could intercept her when she rode through the gate. Fate intervened when a clown climbed the stands to make balloon animals and every kid stood up to bar the way between him and the steps leading the ground. “Excuse me, excuse me.” Several times, he tried to aim in a different direction, but excited youngsters in full cowboy gear stood between him and the exit.

When his boots finally touched dirt, the announcer’s voice cut through the noise.

“Now for what you’ve been waiting for…bull riding!”

Logan’s head jerked up to listen.

“Take your seats because this is something you don’t want to miss. Oklahoma has been blessed this season with a sight to behold. Put your hands together! The first contestant, riding unridden Bushwhacker is Jenna Travis!”

“
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
” Logan took off toward the chutes in a run. There was no way he'd get there in time to stop her, but he'd be there just the same.

Jenna sat on top of Bushwhacker. “Remember me, boy? You just give me a good show and I’ll make sure the guys give you an extra bucket of grain.” She knew the animal was agitated and had no memory of her. Jenna was just talking to calm her own nerves more than anything.

Gripping the flat braided rope in her gloved hand, she held the eye of the cowboy manning the chute. Coming directly from the Cowgirl Angels routine, she still wore the pink shirt and the sequined fringed white vest. Next to the men who were competing, Jenna knew she looked out of place, like a butterfly flitting among a flock of hawks. With a nod, she gave the signal and the gate to the bucking chute swung open. Bushwhacker, seeing an out and freedom, exploded forward. Jenna felt her body jerk and pop like it was on the end of a whip. The bull bucked and reared up, pure raw power coming down viciously on its front legs. She fought to stay on, holding her left hand in the air and gripping the bull with her thighs. Trying to focus was hard, all she could think was – ‘if Logan sees this, he’s going to kill me’.