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“Thanks. Where will you be?”
“On the old bridge over Beaver Creek. It’s one of the reasons we decided to hold such a long celebration instead of just remembering the town’s actual founding date. We’re trying to raise money to repair the picturesque sites like that bridge and encourage tourism. Being so close to Yellowstone Park, we think we’ll have a fair chance of success, particularly if we can add a scenic route to the option of driving through Jasper Gulch instead of going around it on the highway.”
“I guess that makes sense for folks who have the time to just look at scenery. I’m always in a hurry or driving at night to make the next competition.”
Julie straightened and shook her head as she gazed at him and said, “That’s sad.”
“Not to me, it isn’t. I happen to like my life on the road.”
What could she do but smile? “Then more power to you. There are too many people who never decide what they want to do or who they want to be. One day they wake up and realize it’s too late for them.”
She checked her watch. “Speaking of late, I need to get these ewes lined out so the kids can start.”
“Go right ahead. We’ll just watch. Right, buddy?”
The child tugged on his hand. “There’s my mama!”
“Then you’d better go tell her where you are so she doesn’t worry.”
“Yeah!”
Julie paused as soon as she’d guided the first two ewes into the narrow passageway to the makeshift chutes the kids were using. “That was sweet of you.”
“What was?”
“Looking after that little boy until his mother found him. She must have been worried sick.”
Ryan shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t do it for her. She should have kept better track of him.”
“I’m sure she tried.”
“Maybe.”
Watching his changing expressions, Julie wondered why the mention of a mother’s care and concern seemed to bother him so much. Was that why he’d been so noncommittal when she’d asked if he intended to visit his own mother? Perhaps. Then again, maybe he was simply the kind of adult who looked out for the welfare of children.
And damsels in distress, she added silently, stifling a telling grin. There was no way she’d ever qualify as a damsel, in distress or otherwise. Given her ability to take care of herself beautifully, as well as running a ranching and internet business, she knew she wasn’t the type of woman who brought out a man’s protective instincts.
“Well, thanks anyway, on behalf of Jasper Gulch,” Julie said pleasantly. “This is a safe little town when we’re not entertaining so many visitors. Dad hired extra sheriff’s men to help the regular deputy, Cal Calloway, patrol during our special events. Truth to tell, a few men in uniform would never be able to handle all the problems that might arise if we didn’t look after one another the way we always do.”
“I’m sure your old friend Rusty would be glad to strap on a six-shooter and help,” Ryan teased.
He was trying to lighten the mood, Julie decided. And to distract her from the way his persona had hardened in defense of the child. This cowboy was a complex person, one who chose to keep his true emotions in check and present himself as a carefree drifter. He was not. She might hardly know him, but she could tell that already.
The true puzzle was not what he did for a living, it was why. Lots of young men rode well and could have competed the way Ryan did, yet most chose to stay home and use their skills on family ranches. This talented rider insisted he was proud of having no roots, of being totally free.
But he was not free, she concluded. Far from it. He was bearing a burden in his heart that she had only glimpsed. In the days to come, while the rodeo continued, she planned to find out more. To try to understand his motivation for breaking old ties and not forming new ones.
And in the meantime, she would do the only thing she could. She would pray for him and wait for the Lord’s guidance.
* * *
Ryan stood at the fence for a few minutes to watch the kids hanging on to the ewes’ fleece while the fractious sheep raced across the arena. There was no riding gear other than helmets for each child to wear, so they had to grab fists full of wool and just hope their feet didn’t slide too far to one side. Most ended up in the dirt in one or two seconds and half were crying when they were helped to stand, despite the applause from onlookers.
He’d never had the privilege of competing like this. If his big brother hadn’t taken him under his wing and taught him to ride, he might never have discovered how good he was or how much he loved rodeo. That was before Kirk had gotten involved with a bad crowd and started leaving him home to go out drinking; before he’d climbed behind the wheel of a car and died in a wreck blamed on drunk driving.
I should have told on him. Only I didn’t, did I? Ryan mused. Not that it would have made any difference. Their mother was always too busy working to pay much attention to her sons.
Ryan would probably have dropped out of high school if it had not been for the rodeo team and its coach. By the time he graduated, he was already winning local prizes. After that, it was just a matter of getting his seasoning on the road and finding his niche. He’d traveled with a couple of buddies until he’d saved up enough to buy a nice truck and strike out on his own. Now he preferred to go it alone. It was better that way. There were no scheduling conflicts to resolve and nobody minded if he won steadily, outearned his rivals and kept growing his bank account.
The first saddle broncs were already waiting in the chutes by the time he worked his way around the arena. Mutton busting was over and the winners were proudly waving their blue ribbons while the clown-face-painted bullfighters held them up to the accolades of the crowd.
Ryan spotted Bobbi Jo in the distance and raised a hand to wave. She responded with a smile and started toward him. She wasn’t his type, but she was a faithful friend, one who was always willing to loan him one of her spare horses if he needed a mount for the grand entry or, like today, for a parade. The fact that she had a small fortune invested in her horses made her generosity even more out of the ordinary.
“Need help pinning your number on?” she asked.
“No, I’ve got it. I took the vest off and did it myself.”
“Humph. I’d have thought you’d recruit your new girlfriend to do the honors.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. I barely know her.”
“Give it a week or so,” the pretty barrel racer said. “Then tell me you aren’t interested in her.”
“Not gonna happen,” Ryan insisted. “Julie’s roots are deep here. There’s no way she’d pull up stakes and follow me all over the country.”
“Why not? I do.”
“You’re not here because I am,” Ryan said flatly. “You’re here because this is the best prize money for time spent and you know it.” He purposely changed the subject. “I understand your practice runs were very good.”
“Not as good as they’ll have to be to beat the others. That older woman from Oklahoma is a racing fool. And her horse is part Arabian, so he never gets tired.”
“You’ll do fine,” Ryan assured her. “Just don’t knock over a barrel and pick up penalties.”
“Oh, sure. Like all you have to do is keep from getting bucked off and you’ll win, too.”
“It’s a start.” He chuckled. “I’ll try to watch your run while they’re getting the bulls moved up.”
“Thanks.”
As he left his friend, Ryan recalled how Julie had promised to pray for his success. It must be nice to believe in God so strongly that she could rely on the power of prayer rather than skill.
He had no such delusions. He was in the competition because he was good at what he did. That was all there was to it. And until he was either incapacitated or got too old to compete well, he was going to keep going. Keep traveling. Keep striving to be the best in the business and take home the biggest purses. Lack of interest in roping might keep him from ever winning all-around titles like Ty Murray had, but his riding would keep him in the spotlight, hopefully for years to come.
There was nothing more he could ask. Nothing else he wanted out of life, at least for the present.
In the back of his mind, a thought that was barely there asked, Really?
Chapter Five
If the afternoon had been a bit cooler, Julie might have left her ewes at the rodeo grounds until the end of the day. The humidity was low, but once the daytime temps reached into the mid-eighties she decided to ask her youngest brother, Adam, to haul them home for her.
She rode along. “So what did you think when the time capsule turned up missing?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. Dad was sure steamed.”
“At least he kept his cool and got the crowd to move away from the site. I don’t suppose the sheriff’s officers we had patrolling the grounds came prepared to investigate a crime like that.”
“Not when Cal and the extra deputies were hired just for crowd control,” Adam replied. “There’s a forensics team coming in from Bozeman, but I don’t expect them to find anything.”
“I agree.” Julie was nodding thoughtfully. “Ryan asked if the theft might have occurred a long time ago.”
“Ryan? The guy I met by the sheep?”
“Yes. He’s one of the rough-stock cowboys. I met him this morning and we seemed to hit it off really well.”
Her brother chuckled. “I want to be there when Dad finds out you’re interested in a rodeo rider.”
“Why, because you plan to defend my right to pick my own husband?” She had to laugh at the irony. “Give me a break. You have enough trouble keeping the girls at bay with him and Mom shoving them at you. The way I see it, since you, Cord and Austin are all older than Faith and I, you guys should get married and settle down first.”
“Life doesn’t work that way, baby sister. When it’s time for me to find a wife, I fully expect her to fall into my lap, not show up because our folks have been matchmaking.”
“Well said.” Julie relaxed, leaned back and sighed. If she allowed herself to accept her brother’s reasoning, she might actually start to believe she’d met Ryan Travers because he was the one for her. Was that possible?
Not rationally, she argued inwardly. She did enjoy his company, but that didn’t mean there was any deeper meaning to their meeting. Or to the fact that they seemed very compatible in many areas. Given her aversion to city slickers like Wilbur, however, she saw no reason to shun the amiable, good-looking cowboy. As long as Ryan was in town, she could enjoy his company and perhaps discourage her father’s matchmaking, if only for two or three weeks.
She would never lead a man on, of course, which meant she would have to tell Ryan all about her dad and why she was unwilling to heed his wishes. A smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth. It could actually be fun to pretend the handsome rider was her boyfriend, particularly if he was in on the ruse and knew all about her father’s crazy efforts to get all his kids married off and settled on nearby ranches of their own.
Tonight, at the fireworks show, she would set up the amusing scenario. Talk about fireworks!
If Ryan shows up, she added silently.
He will. Julie was positive. And since she was going to be back on the ranch soon, she’d freshen up before returning to town for the evening festivities.
Especially the bull riding. She couldn’t miss that. She’d promised Ryan she’d be there for as many of his rides as possible, and she intended to keep her word.
A warmth infused her cheeks as the reality of the situation grew clearer. Hers was more than a simple friendly promise. She truly wanted to be present to watch him ride. And to pray for his safety when the chute gate opened and he spent the next eight seconds, and beyond, in mortal danger.
Closing her eyes as her brother drove toward home, Julie began her prayers for Ryan’s safety then and there.
* * *
He’d come in third in the first round of saddle-bronc riding and had hit the ground right in front of one of the TV cameras, so his landing was liable to wind up on the late news. This ride hadn’t earned the best score he’d ever been awarded, but it wasn’t the worst either, and there were more chances coming in the ensuing days. They’d eliminate some of the less able riders this first weekend, add some special former champions the second, then tie up the titles and grand prize money during the third and final series of events. All he had to do was see that he landed in the top ten this weekend, then wait for the next chance and the next and do the same.
By the time it was all over, he expected to have lined his pockets with plenty of money and maybe come away with a new hand-tooled saddle and bridle, a pair of silver spurs and a couple of fancy buckles, too.
Barnyard aromas permeated the air. Dust rose in clouds as the livestock was shifted from place to place by expert wranglers. The sun overhead beat down on men and animals alike.
Ryan mopped his brow and donned a protective vest. He’d seen his first bull perform before, so he wasn’t going into this ride blind. He squared his hat on his head tightly and scaled the fence to prepare to step aboard.
One last look at the cowboys and groupies gathered behind the chutes was all it took to make him smile and hesitate. Julie was back!
She waved her arm wildly and grinned. “Hi!”
Acknowledging her with a nod, Ryan stood astride the chute fences, holding his weight off the animal while friends pulled his rigging tight for him and he rubbed his rosined gloves along the braided poly-and-manila rope. He slipped his glove through the handhold, laid the braid across his palm and took his wrap. Then he pounded his stiff fingers tighter with his free hand and eased himself down onto the bull’s back.
This brindle had a hump like a Brahma cross and horns big enough to reach out and touch a guy if he wasn’t careful.
Ryan pulled his feet off the rails. Nodded to signal the gate man. Held his breath. Raised his free hand over his head and tensed, ready for anything—he hoped.
The bull turned toward the arena, leaped into the air, landed stiff legged and was airborne again before even one second had passed.
There was no way to calculate the time or plan ahead. All Ryan could do was keep his balance, bend at the hips to stay out over the shoulders of the snorting, slobbering, lurching animal and hang on.
The crowd went wild, screeches, hoots and cheers buoying him up.
Focused so intently on the bull, Ryan barely heard anything beyond the animal’s growls and the roar of the spectators in the stands.
* * *
Julie was perched on the top rung of the arena fence, shouting, “Go, go, go! Yes!”
An air horn sounded. The eight seconds were up. He’d made it!
“Yay!” Her heart was already pounding from the excitement when she saw Ryan reaching for his rope to loosen it.
“Oh, no! His balance is off,” she yelled to nobody in particular. He was slipping to one side. And the bull was still bucking just as hard as it had before.
Julie gasped and held her breath. The crowd reacted the same way. The din behind her changed to a more muted reverberation. Tension was palpable.
Bullfighters in clown makeup and baggy clothes dashed into the fray. One headed straight for the bull, reaching out as if planning to touch its forehead between the curved horns.
Ryan finally pulled his hand free. He leaped, landing in the dirt and rolling aside, barely escaping the pounding cloven hoofs of the immense animal.
Julie screamed. Men were shouting.
Ryan clambered to his feet, raised his arms over his head and bounced on his toes like a prizefighter after scoring a knockout.
She caught his eye almost immediately and watched his elated grin broaden even more. By the time he’d scooped up his hat and been handed his discarded rigging, he was almost to the fence where she’d been waiting.
“Great ride!”
He beamed. “Thanks.”
“Lousy dismount, though. I thought you were a goner for sure.”
“Nah, he missed me by a mile.”
“Try a few inches. Why don’t you at least wear a helmet like so many of the other riders do?”
