The Bull Rider's Homecoming (9 page)

She looked down at the table, a faint frown creasing her forehead. “While we're disclosing...you do, of course, understand that I have more than just myself to consider when I make decisions.”

“I know.”

“I had so much fun today.” Her hand closed around her napkin and he noticed her emphasis on the past tense. “I like being with you.”

“Thank you.”

“Ever dated a single mom, Trace?”

He gave his head a shake. “Your girls are the cutest things ever. Funny and fun to be around.” His mouth tightened. “They scare me to death.”

Annie let out a breath and leaned back in her chair. “I can understand that. I hadn't spent much time around kids, either, until I had them. It was a shock when I discovered that not only were babies a lot of work, there was also a boatload of daily worry and anxiety that went along with all the joys of parenthood.”

“You started at the ground level and worked up. I've never been even near the ground level.”

Annie's chin dipped down again and Trace reached out to tilt it back up. The disappointed look in her eyes was killing him.

“So,” she said slowly. “What we're saying is that even though we are...attracted...to each other, when we look at the realities of our situation...there probably shouldn't be a situation.”

“There
can
be a situation,” he countered. “But it has to be an eyes-wide-open thing. Like I told you, I won't make promises I can't keep.”

“Then I have stuff to think about.” She got up from her chair, the legs scraping loudly over the wood floor, and Trace did the same, taking her upper arm in a gentle grip.

“Annie...”

“It's fine, Trace.” She sounded as if she meant it. “It's good to be realistic. I think that's why I asked you out—so that we could confront reality. And we have.”

She smiled up at him then pushed open the heavy pub door and stepped out into the brisk Montana spring air. Trace followed her to the truck, wishing that he didn't feel like his gut was tying itself into a knot. Honesty was good and they'd been honest. Right?

There was no reason to feel this ridiculous sense of loss after one kiss and a friendly date.

* * *

T
HE
DRIVE
BACK
to Lex's farm wasn't exactly awkward, but it was silent. The elephant in the room had been addressed much earlier than Annie had anticipated. And honestly? She'd thought it would take a couple of dates before her package-deal status and Trace's preferred lifestyle came to the forefront, but it was probably best it had happened this way.

Trace was a guy who followed the road. No matter how well they clicked, Annie would not be following the road. Then there was that matter of Trace being afraid of kids—a deal breaker for sure, except that Annie had watched Trace with her girls and firmly believed that with time, he'd figure out the whole kid thing. He was a natural, but needed the confidence that came with practice. Just her luck to be attracted to a guy who wasn't afraid of a half-ton bull, but was intimidated by a pair of small girls.

Annie dropped Trace off and drove away without experiencing another of his amazing kisses. Better that way. Really, it was. She'd followed her impulse and tested the water and things had ended in the best possible way. No messy breakups when he had to hit the road. No hiding things from her girls.

She was almost to town when her phone rang. Emily.

“Hi, Em. What's up?”

“I think you have a couple sick girls on your hands. They're wilting on the sofa as I speak.”

When her girls went down, they went down fast. At least they'd waited until she'd taken care of the other business in her life. “Be right there. Do you mind if I make a quick stop for Popsicles and Jell-O?”

“Not at all.”

Annie pulled into the store at the edge of town and stocked up on foods that would be easy for the girls to eat in their current state then hurried on to Emily's house. The girls were ambulatory, but cranky, and Emily helped Annie steer them out to the truck.

“I see you had success at the auction,” she said.

“Yes. I was going to have Danielle's dad and Curtis help me unload at the store, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow.” Annie watched her girls fasten their seat belts and slump into each other. “Or maybe the next day.”

“You have a couple sick babies,” Emily agreed.

“They won't be going to school on Monday,” Annie said.

“No.” Emily hugged herself as the wind gusted. “Let me know when they'll be back.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

Annie drove her girls home and got them situated on the sofa in front of the television. Even though they would both instantly go to sleep, neither of them liked being in bed when they were sick, and Annie was of the opinion that a sick kid should be in the place where they were most comfortable, and in the case of her girls, that was on the sofa, ignoring the television set.

“What else do you need?” Annie asked as she arranged an afghan over Kristen.

“Nothin',” her daughter muttered as her eyes drifted shut. Katie was already out. And by this time tomorrow, they'd probably be fine. Or so Annie hoped. She hated having them miss too much school, and as it was, they were going to be upset at missing the casting announcement for the elementary play.

Oh, well. They'd get the news, good or bad, on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Annie drifted into the kitchen and sat at the table, laying her head down on her folded arms and closing her eyes. This was what her life was about right now—taking care of her girls. It had been nice going out with Trace, and she appreciated his honesty about his capabilities. In a few years she could date. Right now she was a mom. And she was good at it. She had to be. She was all her girls had.

Chapter Nine

“Wait until you see this one.” Jasper Hennessey leaned on the rails while Bill and one of his sons loaded a young bull in the chute.

Trace wasn't yet ready to ride, but his shoulder was regaining its range of motion and he had started strength-building exercises. Another few weeks and he'd be ready to go. He'd already talked to Jasper about practice. Jasper didn't have the caliber of bulls he needed to get a full workout, but he had some animals that Trace could start on. And he didn't plan to do all that much in the practice pen. It would kill him to get injured practicing rather than competing. And he definitely didn't intend to get injured before he rode Brick in December.

The gate opened and a young, riderless bull bucked its way across the arena.

“He has real potential,” Trace said. The animal was smaller than the others, but bucked in a serious way. Once he had a little more growth on him, he'd present a decent challenge to the cowboy trying to ride him.

“Good lines. I indulged myself a few years ago and bought three rodeo cows for my breeding program.”

“How's that going? Your program?” Because this young bull was definitely of a higher caliber than his older ones.

“Well...let's just say that it started as a sideline and seems to be developing into a full-time business. I barely have time for my farming anymore...which kind of works, because I hate farming. I make Bill do it.” Jasper cackled and shifted his attention back to the arena, where Bill herded the young bull toward the gate after his training run.

Raising bucking bulls was one way to stay in the bull-riding business, but it required both property and an infusion of cash. Trace had saved a goodly amount of money—more than the average bull rider—because he'd heeded his mother's warning to put something away for the unexpected. He was a believer in the unexpected, because nothing in his life had turned out as expected—but he hadn't saved enough to buy property and animals. That would involve a loan and settling into a business, staying in one locale, and he didn't know if he wanted to do that.

He didn't know if he
could
do that.

Even now the siren call of the road seemed louder every day. He was antsy and edgy and didn't feel at all himself. Twice last night he'd reached for the phone to call Grady and tell him that he'd need to pull up stakes. Both times he stopped because he was really in an ideal situation—he had a place to work out and there was a practice pen available. He just needed to tamp down this rising sense of panic and get on with preparing for his comeback.

The door opened and Cody walked in, slapping his hat against his leg to shake the water off. He nodded at Trace, who nodded back. The kid had given him a gruff apology the first afternoon Trace had shown up at the practice arena and, after that, things had been okay between them. In fact, during the weeks that they'd hung together, Trace found that he liked the kid. Cody had talent, but too many responsibilities at his family ranch to seriously pursue bull riding. He still practiced diligently and rode in as many events as he could afford to travel to. It was hard not to appreciate his dedication to the sport.

Cody came to lean on the rails next to him, silently watching the last junior bull's training run. “Going to ride today?”

“I wish.” Trace was glad to be with his own kind, but he was also envious of his own kind. He wanted to ride in the worst way.

“How much longer until you get your release?”

“I hope to ride in an event at the end of May. I have the entry.” He also had an appointment in a week with a doctor in Bozeman who was in communication with his Oklahoma surgeon.

“I see that Grady's doing really well,” Cody said. “Did you see the video of his ride last night?”

“Yep.” His friend was sitting at number twelve in the standings and was hoping to break into the top ten.

“Seen Annie lately?” Cody continued casually. Almost too casually.

“Once or twice.”

Cody shot him a sideways look. “I owe her an apology for what I did in the bar that night. I was drunker than I should have been and pretty much made an ass of myself.”

“It happens.”

“Are you two, like, seeing each other?”

“Nope.” Trace cocked his head to look at the kid sideways. “She's busy being a mom and I'm not going to interfere with that.” He gave the kid a stern look. “You probably shouldn't, either.”

“Wouldn't matter if I wanted to.” Cody kicked the rail in front of him with the toe of his dusty boot, making Trace wonder what had finally woken the kid up to the truth.

“Probably not,” he agreed mildly.

Cody gave him a crooked smile. “Some of the guys are going out tonight after practice. New place we need to check out. Want to come?”

“Going to make an ass of yourself?”

“Probably.”

Trace grinned. “I wouldn't mind a night out.”

* * *

“Y
OU
HAVE
FUN
at your party,” Katie said as Annie dropped the girls at Emily's house Saturday morning. Just as Annie had predicted, they'd bounced back fast from their illness last Sunday and only missed one day of school that week.

“Tell Granny happy birthday and that we wish we were there,” Kristen added, sounding only a little pouty. To them a birthday party with no kids was no party at all.

“I'll do that,” Annie said with a laugh, giving hugs to each girl. “Tomorrow we'll work on the costumes, okay?” The girls had indeed been cast as butterflies, along with thirteen other first-and second-graders. Their relief at not being squirrels had been almost palpable.

“We can draw pictures of what we want to make!” Kristen said.

“As long as it looks like a scarf, great.” Annie had found twelve scarves at the local thrift store during her lunch and Granny had donated three more, giving her the basic materials she needed to turn little kids into winged insects. A little glitter, some pipe cleaners and headbands. Yes. She had this.

She had started the day with a burst of energy, even taking time to mop the kitchen floor before loading the girls into the car, but by the time she reached the store, she felt oddly light-headed. The light-headedness became a dull ache as the day progressed, and when it was time to close the store and head to the party at five o'clock, Annie wanted nothing more than to pick up her girls and go home. For Granny's sake she soldiered on.

When they arrived at the brand-new bar and restaurant at the south end of town, the place was already crowded. Danielle pointed to an open door at the opposite side of the room and she and Annie wound their way through the throng of people to the banquet room.

“Glad we didn't start this party at seven, like Mom wanted,” Danielle murmured. Annie nodded. The reason they had it at five o'clock was because due to pregnancy, Danielle conked out around eight every night. “Oh, look! Doesn't Granny look great?”

“She really does. Hope I look that good at eighty.”

Dorothy Perry was dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress, and when she caught sight of Danielle and Annie she crossed the room to hug them both.

“Happy birthday, Dorothy,” Annie said. “You look wonderful.”

“Not a day over seventy-five, right?”

“You look younger than that.” Danielle beamed at her grandmother and hugged her again.

“Your mom outdid herself,” Annie murmured to Danielle as the guest of honor went to greet two of Danielle's cousins. There were balloons and streamers and a three-layer cake. In the corner a mobile bar was set up so that the guests didn't have to go to the bar proper to get their drinks, which was just as well, because it was getting loud and rowdy out there. Danielle's mother closed the door to their private room after a noisy group settled at a table nearby. Just before the door swung shut, Annie heard Shelly Hensley's distinctive voice rise above the ruckus.

Excellent.

Annie turned down champagne and instead nursed a glass of ice water as she made small talk with Perry friends and family, happy to be part of the tightly knit group, yet also wishing she were at home. Where it was quiet. The party noise was getting to her, making her head throb, and if Dorothy didn't blow out her candles soon, she was going to have to make her excuses and go home while she still could. Her headache wasn't getting worse, though, so she persevered, making small talk until a server set a plate of deviled eggs on the table behind her and her stomach clenched as the smell hit her nostrils.

“I've got to go,” she whispered to Danielle.

Instantly her friend was ready to drive her home.

“No,” Annie said. “I'm not that far gone, but I want to get the girls and get home before I am.”

“Text me when you get home.”

Annie smiled, even though it hurt. “I will.” She made her way to the door, wincing as she opened it and the noise washed over her. She'd only gone a couple of feet when someone pushed their way in front of her, barring her path.

Shelly. Drunk Shelly. Her least favorite kind of Shelly.

“Well, if it isn't Miss Helpful.”

Annie pulled in a breath, barely noticing the crowd around her. She wasn't going to engage Shelly, but she didn't know how she was going to get around her, either. When she stepped sideways, the woman smirked and mirrored her movement.

Annie raised weary eyes and said simply. “Get out of my way, Shelly, or I may just throw up on your shoes.”

They were open-toed shoes, high heeled and glittery, and something in Annie's expression must have told Shelly that she wasn't kidding—not one little bit—so the woman quickly stepped aside, an expression of extreme distaste on her face, as several of her cronies laughed.

“Drunk at six o'clock,” Shelly said with a curl of her lips.

“Yeah,” Annie said as she headed for the door. “What would it be like?”

There was more laughter and then Annie stepped out of the bar and let the heavy door swing shut behind her. Cool air washed over her, making her feel less foggy-headed, but she still needed to get her girls and get home. Fast. Because she had the feeling that whatever this was, it was going to get worse before it got better—just as it had when her girls had caught it.

“You do not look healthy,” Emily said a few minutes later as Katie and Kristen put on their coats. “Do you want me to keep the girls for you overnight?”

“No. We'll be fine once we get home.” She'd just gone shopping so there was plenty of easy food to eat and all she needed was a little rest.

“If you say so. But give a call if you need anything at all.”

Annie nodded and rolled up the window as the girls got into their seats.

“You're sick, Mom?”

“Just a little,” Annie said. “I'll take a nap when we get home and you guys can watch TV. Okay?”

“Don't worry,” Katie said. “We'll take real good care of you. We'll make Jell-O and everything.”

“No,” Annie said automatically. “Don't make Jell-O.” Heaven forbid. “I'll be happy with cold orange juice. Or maybe a Popsicle.”

“Popsicles helped me,” Katie said reassuringly.

In her girls' world, there wasn't much that a Popsicle couldn't cure. She wished things were that easy in her world.

* * *

W
HEN
T
RACE
, C
ODY
,
Bill Hennessey and the rest of the bull-riding crew arrived at the new bar that the boys had wanted to check out, it was ridiculously crowded. And apparently there was a party in the back, too. Trace had just worked his way through the crowd to reach the far end of the bar when he heard a voice that made the muscles in his neck go tight.

Shelly.

She either didn't see him or didn't recognize him, so Trace pulled his hat down a little lower to keep from having another confrontation with the woman.

“I'll take care of the drinks,” Cody said. He raised a hand to hail the cute server then made his way through the crowd to intercept her.

“Ah, the vigor of youth,” Bill murmured and Trace smiled. A few minutes later Cody was back. “Brianne will get to us as soon as she can.” He gave a small laugh. “I guess Shelly confronted Annie a few minutes ago and Annie threatened to throw up on her shoes. Brianne hates Shelly, you know. I guess it was pretty funny.”

“Annie's here?” Trace cast a quick look around the crowded room but didn't spot her anywhere.

“Gone. Shelly let her pass. Puke is such an awesome weapon.”

Cody seemed to think it was pretty funny, but Trace didn't see the humor—other than the fact that Shelly had apparently backed down. She didn't seem as obnoxious as she had in the Shamrock, but Trace still kept his hat low as he leaned on the bar, listening to the younger guys. Bill leaned silently beside him.

“Getting too old for crowded bars,” he finally said.

Trace shook his head. “I must be getting old, too.” Although, truthfully, he'd never liked crowded bars. Quiet places where he could enjoy his drink and some decent conversation were more his speed.

“Want to leave this place to the younger crowd?”

“Yeah. I need to go check on a friend.”

“I kind of thought you might.”

Trace didn't know what to expect when he knocked lightly on Annie's back door twenty minutes later. It was very possible that the girls wouldn't let him in due to the stranger-danger factor, but when they peeked from the side window and saw that it was him, they opened right up.

“Hi, Mr. D'laney,” Kristen said. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard your mom wasn't feeling too well and I thought I'd see if you guys were all right.”

“We're fine,” Katie assured him. “We just got home.” She pointed at their coats, which were draped over the backs of the kitchen chairs.