The Bull Rider's Collection (11 page)

His words came back to her. He needed to talk to Jesse. That was true, as far as it went, she knew that. Still, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Why did every action or decision have to involve Jesse?

Because this is new to James and Jesse’s family, Jesse’s blood. And because keeping watch over Jesse has been James’s life since forever
.

The problem was, JR was James’s blood, too. And as his mother, JR’s needs would trump Jesse’s every single damn day of the week and three times on Sunday. If James couldn’t see his way clear to choose his son over his brother … .

Well then no matter how much Lizzie wanted to jump James’s bones and be jumped in return she would just have to remember that she was a grownup. JR was her child, and James was the bad influence she’d have to keep herself and her son away from.

James glanced back at the banged up import following him down the mountain. Every time Jesse’s name came up, Lizzie’s defenses went up. He understood that to a point. Jesse had been the reason they left. And one of the reasons he’d broken up with her that May evening. She wanted him to follow her to Portland. Attend school with her or find a job, anything to keep the two of them together.

But he’d chosen to go with Jesse. Jesse needed him. Lizzie should have understood that. It wouldn’t have been forever. Instead, she’d made him choose. And it had been forever. What James had thought would be a summer on the rodeo circuit had turned into five years of managing his brother’s increasingly successful career.

While Lizzie came home to raise his son, alone.

Yeah, she had a right to be mad.

This time would be different. This time he chose her — and JR — if she’d let him. James figured he had one shot at this. Especially with Cash hanging around, looking for a pre-built family. James’s family.

“Do I have a gramma?”

The voice from the backseat surprised James. He adjusted the mirror and met JR’s eyes. The boy sat strapped into a booster seat. James hadn’t even known such a thing existed before Lizzie dumped it into the truck. Apparently kids couldn’t sit in the front. Something to do with the air bags being too strong. James had a lot to learn. He and Jesse used to ride in the bed of their father’s F-150 no seat belts, no seats.

“Your grandma died, buddy.” James glanced up in the mirror, wondering what had brought on this conversation.

“Not Grammy. I know Grammy died. I remember her hugs and she smelled like Mom’s cookies.” JR leaned forward. “I want to know about your mom. Where is she?”

James shook his head. No way could he tell JR that his and Jesse’s mother had dumped them the night she split from his dad. About her promises to come back for them that never came true.

Two years ago James hired a private investigator to find her. He didn’t know what he expected, but the trail dead-ended in Vegas two years after she left. James often wondered how good an investigator the man was, or if it really was possible for people to disappear without a trace in this day and age the way she apparently had. Until, that is “Angie” and her lies showed up.

In the backseat, JR made an
mmm
-ing noise, waiting for an answer.

“No grandma, no grandpa.” Poor kid, he’d probably been hoping his long lost dad would appear with at least a new set of grandparents, if not a bustle of cousins. “But you have a new uncle.”

“Yeah, Uncle Jesse. Does he have kids?”

God, let’s hope not.

“No. There’s just the two of us.” James glanced back at Lizzie’s car.

“So did your mom and dad die?” JR kept at it like a starving dog with a chicken bone.

“JR, they’re gone. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Now you have me and Mom.” JR turned around to look out the back window. “She’s a good mom. She’ll take care of you.”

James grinned. Now the kid was trying to make him feel better. Lizzie had done a great job with him. James hoped he wouldn’t screw things up by stepping into the picture late. Too bad there wasn’t an owner’s manual on how to raise a five-year-old son.

He turned the truck onto the main road. Two miles from the rodeo grounds, the traffic on the highway ground to a halt. Glancing at the clock, they were still two hours away from Jesse’s ride. Based on the number of pickups in line ahead of them, they might just make it.

“Why’d we stop?” JR strained against the seat belt trying to see.

“Too many people want to get to the same place we do.” Another glance in his side mirror caught Lizzie staring at him. She quickly averted her eyes when she saw him looking. “I bet your mom’s bored with no one to talk to.”

“She says she never gets a quiet moment. Maybe she’s happy.” JR turned and waved until Lizzie waved back.

“Or she’s rocking out to the radio.”

“The radio doesn’t work. We sing songs all the way to town. Maybe she’s singing.”

James sneaked another quick look in his side view. Nope, didn’t look like she was singing. Looked like she was gearing up for the worst. For nothing, he hoped.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. He pushed the Bluetooth button on the dash and answered. “This is James.”

“Where are you dude?” Jesse’s voice boomed over the speakers. “You didn’t come back to the room last night. I thought we’d have some time to talk.”

“I’m on the highway outside the rodeo grounds. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” James cringed, realizing he’d said we. Maybe Jesse hadn’t heard.

But like the five-year-old in the backseat, Jesse picked up everything James wasn’t ready to explain. “We? Is that why you didn’t show up last night? You found a little honey? Or are you doing the deed with Lizzie.”

“No, he’s with me,” JR called out.

“Who’s that?”

“JR Hudson,” JR called back.

James grabbed the cell and pushed the button to take the conversation private. “Look Jesse, we need to talk.”

“Sounds like it.” Jesse sounded thoughtful. “Well, you know where to find me.” He hung up.

James shook his head. That had gone well. Jesse could ask any of the locals everything he wanted to know about JR Hudson. Probably even find out that James was JR’s dad. Particularly since James had introduced JR to Mr. Cooper as his son before he’d said anything to his brother.

Great thinking, Ace
.

“Who was that?” JR’s voice broke into James’s muddled thoughts.

“Uncle Jesse. He’s waiting for us at the rodeo grounds.”

“Do you think he’ll let me sit on a bull?”

James choked. “Those bulls are dangerous. Don’t even think about climbing on one. It’s not like riding a sheep.” No wonder Lizzie wasn’t keen on JR mutton busting this year. Raising a child was a nightmare waiting to happen — especially when they had ideas like this.

JR hung his head. “I just asked. No need to get mad.”

“Just make sure you stay right with me when we meet your uncle. I don’t want to explain to your mom how you got hurt the first time you were on my watch.”

“Okay.” JR turned around in his seat, straining to see Lizzie, waving big to get her attention. When she finally waved back, JR seemed satisfied and turned back to James. “Maybe Uncle Jesse would let me help him get ready. Gramps used to ride bulls and he said he had lots of people helping him get ready to ride. I’m a good helper.”

“I know you are. Look how you helped me clean up around the cabins.” James grinned. Jesse had no idea what he was in for. James didn’t know whether to drop the bomb before Jesse rode or give him a few minutes more of irresponsibility before he turned into someone’s uncle.

“Are we there yet?”

“Soon, buddy, soon.”

• • •

Lizzie stuffed the booster seat back into her car before catching up with James and JR. She didn’t know what kind of fireworks would happen when James broke the news, but she wanted to be ready to head home if things got heated. James hadn’t been happy about handing the seat over. Still, for all James’s talk about being there for JR, if Jesse got stubborn about this, Lizzie didn’t want JR to end up in the middle of hers and the brothers’ ghosts, hearing things he didn’t need to hear.

“I get a corndog for lunch. Right?” JR watched the crowd buzzing around them.

“If that’s what you want.” James put his arm around Lizzie when she walked up. “Right, Lizzie?”

“The boy would eat nothing else if I’d let him. When we went to the state fair last year he ate five in one day.” Lizzie glanced around the grounds. From what she could see, most of the town was already inside while the rest of it was with them in the parking lot. “Big crowd today.”

“That’s good. Means the purses will be bigger than advertised.” James watched the barrel racing as they stood in line to pay their entrance fees.

“Does Jesse make much money riding?” Lizzie pulled JR closer as a horse and rider stepped close to the ticket line on their way back to the stables.

“He didn’t at first. We ate a lot of fast food value meals at first. You wouldn’t believe how much food twenty bucks will buy if you’re careful.” James swung JR up on his shoulders. “Can you see better?”

“I can see the corndog stand,” JR crowed.

“He’s got his priorities straight.” James laughed, holding on to JR’s legs. He returned to Lizzie’s question. “After that first year we knew which rodeos to avoid and which ones paid. Once Jesse hit his first championship, we were in the money.”

“He makes because he’s a champion? I didn’t know the rodeos worked that way.” There was a lot she didn’t know about the business of rodeo.

James shook his head. “They don’t. He makes more because sponsors pay all his expenses, including my salary, and he keeps the purse money.” He shrugged. “The kicker is you have to have that championship buckle before the big guys will look at you.”

“Do you like managing his career?” Lizzie searched his face, wondering what she expected to find.

James’s lips twisted. “Truthfully? When we were building the ‘Jesse’ brand, it was challenging. I liked that. Now it’s a lot of travel and public relations bull — ”

“James, little ears.” She pointed her chin toward JR.

“Sorry. All the … .” he hesitated trying to find an appropriate word, “stuff you have to do for the sponsors is pretty overwhelming. The saying ‘there’s no free lunch’ is especially true in the rodeo world. Part of Jesse’s job is to speak to corporate types in suits and ties while they
ooh
and
ahh
around the bull penned up in their parking lots. He’s their trick pony to pull out and show off. It’s not fun.”

“So why do you stay?”

“Jesse loves it. And before this weekend, there was no other family.” He bounced JR to get his attention. “Hold on, buddy. I have to pull out money for this nice lady to let us in.”

“Let us in, let us in,” JR chanted.

“You two are impossible.” Lizzie plucked the twenty from James’s hand. “Two adults and one child. Or maybe it’s two children and one adult?”

The girl laughed. “Boys grow up to be big boys with bigger toys.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Lizzie grinned at the teenager, who handed her change that Lizzie plucked it into the pocket of the western chambray shirt James wore. The blue made his tan skin stand out and made her fingers itch to caress more than fabric. “Just like Mickey D’s. Change back from your dollar.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t eaten yet.” James pointed to the corndog stand. “Let’s get food then find seats.”

Ten minutes later, carrying corndogs and drinks, they sat in the middle of the stands, watching the end of the barrel racing. Lizzie watched the girls race around with a pang of regret. She’d raced in high school, but it wasn’t her passion. She’d wanted to go to journalism school and become the next Diane Sawyer. Being rodeo queen was fun, but in journalism, she could have seen a life traveling the world. Her mom had even gotten her to take a few basic online college classes toward that end before she’d gotten too sick to leave her bed. Lizzie had quit studying to take care of her.

Wryly, she realized that she could have done much of that same travelling and story-writing with JR in tow if she hadn’t let her mom force her to choose stay-in-one-place child-rearing over finding James years ago. If she had though, JR would never have known his grandmother. Cripe, she and James had both made choices because of the family they knew, hadn’t they?

“Your mom used to be the best barrel racer in town,” she heard James tell JR.

“Really, Mom? Why’d you quit? It would have been cool to have a rodeo mom.” JR’s eyes bright, imagining the life he might be leading.

Lizzie chucked his chin. “It’s kind of hard to lean down and stay centered on a horse when you’re pregnant.” She smiled. “Besides, there’s no place on the saddle for a car seat.”

“Mom! I meant after I was born. Grammy would have watched me.” JR’s eyes were wide as the next rider burst into the arena.

Lizzie pulled him into a side hug. “I know she would have. I wanted to be your mom more than I wanted to ride horses.”

James eyed her. “You’d make a great journalist, Liz.”

She blushed and took a bite of corndog. He remembered. “Thanks. Someday I’ll get my degree.”

James studied her seriously. “What’s wrong with now? I’m here, I can help. The online degrees are better all the time, or you could go to school part time.”

“James Sullivan, you are horrible.” Taken aback, Lizzie stared at him. “First you want to help me get the cabins ready to reopen, now you want me to go back to school? When? You going to put extra days in my week? Because that’s what it’ll take to do everything.” She shook her head.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered going back to school. Boise State had a great online program, but school cost money, even online. Every time she thought she had enough saved up to get started, something at the house broke, JR got sick, or the economy tanked.

Or Mom died.

Yes, exactly. That, too. She and her dad were both having trouble coming back from that.

“Lizzie, look.” James’s jaw worked around a truth he hated, one he’d kept to himself for a long time. “I … well, Jesse and I know something about being in the welfare system.” He looked away from her to stare at nothing. “When mom left and dad started drinking, there stopped being enough. Dad would lose jobs, go on benders, not come home. Social Services got involved. They wanted to split us up, put us in foster care. Dad’d sober up long enough to keep that from happening then it would fall apart again.” He took a deep breath, looked hard at her. “The point is, I don’t want you and JR left in the system when there’s help out there to change things for you. Whether it’s Social Services programs or you apply for scholarships or grants or you take it from me. I want you to take it from me, Lizzie. If not for yourself then for JR at least. I have the right and the responsibility to provide for him no matter what you let me do for you.”